Page 76 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

She snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a hypocrite. You’re doing the same thing with Jenna! What in the hell are you accusing me of when you’re the one who’s so busy letting her hang all over you?”

For a moment, I saw her eyes start to burn with anger. The tension in the room is palpable. “I never asked for Jenna to be around,” I say, my voice strained. “You’re making it harder for me to deal with this mess.”

“Harder?” She laughs, but the sound is bitter. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be nothing. You’ve made me loyal, Vaughn, and now you want to pretend like it’s all my fault.”

The words smack me in the face, and I blink. “Because you think I’ve taken you for granted?” I say, incredulous. “I’ve done a lot to keep this team together, and I’m under more pressure than you know. All I’m asking is, please stay focused.”

“Focused?” she repeats, her voice rising. “Because you’ve been so focused on problems that you created, you forgot about the people who actually give a shit about you. I’m more than just your secretary, Vaughn. I’m your partner. But you refuse to see it.”

I can feel the tension in the air crackling as we both glower at each other, and I wonder for a second if this is how it all ends—an abrupt explosion in which it all becomes clear. But I can’t back down. “Listen, I can’t afford distractions right now.”

“Distractions?” She scoffs, her anger palpable. “You mean like Jenna? You’re the one that’s allowing yourself to fall into this mess. Don’t you see how you were sabotaging everything?”

“No, I’m not sabotaging anything,” I say, the frustration boiling over. “I don’t need you to dictate how I deal with my life or my career or anything else.”

The fire in her eyes doesn’t waver. She shakes her head. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about this. I’m sick of feeling like I’m not important. You’re just gonna stand there while I make a fool of myself?”

“Maybe you should think about how your actions reflect on me,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “I don’t want you out there with my teammates, and then you come back to me as if nothing happened.”

Rachel looks pained and angry; she steps back. “I’m not a scapegoat, Vaughn. I’m trying to support you, but you’re making it impossible.”

Her words weigh down on me, and for a moment, I can’t think. “Then what do you want from me?” I ask, my voice softer now.

“I want you to stop pushing me away,” she replies, her voice trembling. “It’s hard, and I want you to know I’m in this with you, no matter how hard it gets. But you must let me in instead of shutting me out.”

The air between us crackles, and I can see the pain in her eyes. I feel angry, I feel frustrated, and I feel I want to connect with her so badly. I can’t help the feeling that I’m standing on unsafe ground, not knowing in which direction to go.

“Rachel, I . . .” I start, but she cuts me off.

“Just think about it, Vaughn. I can’t keep being treated like I’m disposable. I won’t stand for it.”

With that, she turns and storms out, leaving me standing there, more alone than I’ve ever been. Everything has been exposed, but nothing is resolved. I know my feelings. I feel them, and I have done what I’ve done.

The room falls into a heavy silence as Rachel storms out. Each beat of my heart feels like a loud thud, the weight of our confrontation reverberating in every pulse. Somewhere deep down, I know I can’t keep pushing her away, but I never wanted it to come to this.

I just need to process everything, but I can’t get her anger out of my mind. Then, out of nowhere, I have a thought and call after her.

“Wait!”

I see her shoulders tense as Rachel pauses at the door, her back to me. “What?” she snaps, her voice sharp.

“Are you jealous?” The question slips out before I can stop myself. I can’t believe I just said that, but the air is charged with unsaid things, and I need to challenge her.

Her eyes are wide with disbelief. She spins around. “Jealous? Of what? You and Jenna?”

“Yeah, of what you saw on Collins’s Instagram,” I clarify, coming closer. “Is that what this is about?”

She looks at me for a second, a flicker of uncertainty on her face, but it’s gone in a second and is replaced with anger. “I’m not jealous, Vaughn. I just don’t want to be treated like I’m disposable.”

I can’t let her go like this. “So you are jealous!” I press, speaking a little louder. “How come you care about who I’m with?”

“Let me leave,” she says, her tone firm, but I’m not ready to back down.

I block her path to the door as I step forward. “No, we won’t talk about this until we do.”

“Vaughn,” she warns, her voice strained, “I don’t want to argue.”

“Then what do you want?” I ask, my frustration spilling over. “Because I can’t keep pretending that this doesn’t bother you.”

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