Page 81 of Wildly Inappropriate

She stands up too, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “I’m proud of you. I know today didn’t go the way you wanted, but it will all be okay. No one can win every tournament.”

Of course she would say that. She’s sweet and caring and—distracting me from what I need to do again. “Yeah. Sure,” I say, my posture rigid, trying not to let myself fall into her warm embrace. I know I need to use this motivation to end this now, before we get in too deep. Before I hurt her more than I’m going to.

“Look, Lila,” I say, turning around and stepping out of her arms. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Confusion flicks across her features. “What do you mean?”

“I clearly hadn’t thought through what it meant for us to be together for longer than the time we had agreed upon, and now that I have, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Her facial expression flashes between hurt and anger, and she takes a step back, crossing her arms in a way that is half defiance, half defeat.

“You’re breaking up with me? Why?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I can see how much this is hurting her, and it takes all of my self-control not to go over to her and hug her.

“This just isn’t a good idea.”

“But…”—her lower lip quivers, and I can feel my heart collapsing in on itself as tears pool in her eyes—“but I think I love you.”

“I…I can’t be in a relationship right now, Lila. You saw what happened this morning. We fought, and my game completely fell apart.”

“Wait, you’re blaming me?” She wipes at her eyes, smearing her makeup as she does.

“No. But at the same time, I can’t deny the facts sitting in front of me. I have to focus on my game, and you demand my attention. As youshouldwith someone you’re in a relationship with. It just can’t be me.”

“You played well in the rest of the tournaments this summer. I was around then.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “I thought you might be my good-luck charm there for a minute, but this morning…I can’t have that kind of distraction. You should’ve known I can’t have that kind of distraction.”

Her face crumples. “That’s not fair, JT. You were suffering. I just wanted to talk to you. To be there for you. Tohelpyou.”

“I can’t do it, Lila.” I throw my clothes into my bag, Lila standing there, silently crying as she watches me pack.

“You can!” she all but yells, the fire in her calling to me. “You just don’t want to. At least have the courage to tell me the truth. You just don’t want to put in the effort to make us work.”

“Sure,” I say, because it’s what she needs to hear. It’s the guy I need to be to make her see that I can’t be her HEA.

I grab my toothbrush and bathroom bag and put it in my bag before zipping the whole thing up.

“At least now you can go back to hating me. It’ll make everything far less complicated for everyone.”

“I don’t want to hate you! Don’t you understand? I loved you when I was 14 and you were the only one of Jameo’s friends who would spend time with me. I loved you at 18 when you kissed me for the first time. I loved you at 21 when I realized you would never feel the same way about me, and I love you now, even as you’re ripping my heart out.”

A montage of our time together plays before my eyes, every scene changing as I’m given a new perspective of our history together. One that, if I were someone else, might actually turn into a happily ever after. But unfortunately, I can’t turn back from my path. My parents need me, and I can’t let their comfortable lives be another thing they end up sacrificing because they decided to help me chase my dream.

I can’t look at Lila as I prepare to leave. Her fire is slowly draining away from her, and I know it’s all my fault. But hopefully, with time, she’ll get it back. She’ll find it again with someone else.

“I can’t be the guy you need, Lila, but I hope you find him.”

“JT, don’t. Please.” The final word comes out as a whisper, the plea of someone about to have everything taken from them, and it guts me. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’ll get Sam to coordinate shipping my stuff in Wild Bluffs back to me,” I say, bags in hand as I force myself to walk out the door. “Bye, Lila.”

I hear the door swing closed, and I pause, realizing I can hear Lila’s sobs out in the hall. I force my legs to move me away from our room and the temptation I have to run back to her and beg her for forgiveness. I promise myself that this is the last time that I will hurt her.

I need another room for tonight, and fast, so even though it’s late in New York, I call Sam.

“What’s up, boss?”

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