Page 37 of Scoring Grey

“Never have. Like I said, she was only ever a tool. I wanted to hurt you the way you had hurt me, but I’ll never make that mistake again.” I kiss the back of her hand. “I’ll handle Blair. I’ve already made it clear we are not friends and threatened her photographer. She’s not going to be a problem.”

12

ELOISE

It isn’t a coincidence that Blair’s suddenly working for the Kings after I arrive in town. Do I believe Cal when he says nothing happened between them? I do, but I’ve never trusted her. My silence wasn’t insecurity. I don’t want a man who can easily be taken, but letting him believe I was uncomfortable was better than revealing my theories because they give away too much. Cal already lost his mom, even if he and his father have a strained relationship. Having one parent is better than having none, and I don’t want to be the reason he loses it.

However, I’d be willing to bet every dollar in my hard-earned bank account that Lucas got wind of us getting back together through Cal, and that’s why Blair’s here now. That man was never subtle about letting Cal know how highly he thought of Blair. I’m certain he called in a favor and made it happen, but what I spent hours trying to put together is what she stands to gain. Why is Blair doing Lucas’s bidding? Did he threaten her too, or is her end goal still Cal?

I was right to be anxious about coming here. It’s been six years, and in that time, I haven’t come close to making heads or tails out of Lucas’s words from our fateful encounter the night I discovered I was pregnant. What I do know is that when I stay away from Cal, Lucas keeps his distance. Staying away means I was keeping up my end of a deal I never made. He told me to stay away and I did, but now I’m here; that’s how I know everything happening now is his counterplay.

I squeeze my hair in the towel, ringing out as much moisture as possible before flipping on the blow-dryer and staring blankly in the mirror as I recall the first time Lucas made a show of honoring his threats. A few months after Adler was born, Cal came home for a holiday break and discovered I had a baby. I ran into him in a parking lot. I looked a mess, but he didn’t notice. He couldn’t. His eyes were glued to the blond-haired baby boy strapped to my chest. Adler was and is a spitting image of his father, save for the blue eyes. Those are mine. There was no hiding it, and truth be told, I didn’t want to. I had time to think about my choices after Adler was born.

My decision to keep my pregnancy and his birth a secret from Cal nearly broke me. Cal showing up as I put groceries in my trunk wasn’t my choice, but I was glad it happened. It took a weight off my chest. I always knew he’d eventually find out. I hadn’t planned on keeping his son from him forever, only until I had time to figure shit out. The last thing I wanted was my new baby to be brought into whatever feud or mess started long before he arrived.

For a few days, it felt like things might not be so bad. I let myself believe there was a chance Cal and I could be the family I’d hoped we’d be. I knew Lucas was well aware I kept my baby. Cal may have left town for college, but Lucas didn’t. Our town was small, and the rumor mill was large. People knew I was pregnant, but Lucas left me alone until he didn’t. One afternoon, as I was leaving to take Adler on a walk, a black Mercedes that I’d know anywhere drove by. It was Lucas. The man had no reason to drive through my neighborhood. It was on the other side of Nantucket, in a very upscale neighborhood comprised of old-money socialites who wouldn’t have given him a seat at their tables. That day, his presence didn’t scare me. I was young, with a reckless spirit, but his drive-by gave me pause. It was a reminder that he was still watching, still holding his threat and keeping secrets.

After his visit, I pushed Cal away. I had no choice. I needed to protect our baby and my family, but even more than that, I didn’t want to be the reason Cal gave up his dreams or the knife that severed the bond between a father and son, no matter how tattered and worn that bond may have been. But today, Lucas showed part of his hand. Blair Wyndham is doing his dirty work, and I don’t know what she stands to gain from playing his game, but I intend to win.

I toss my towel in the hamper and slip on my nightgown. It’s late, but I was waiting to see if Dash might come home. After he dropped me off at the stadium this afternoon, he said he’d see me back at the house. However, when I returned from dropping Cal off at the airport, there was a note in my condo that read:

“I’m going on an adventure. Don’t wait up.”

Setting my phone down on the nightstand, I pull back the covers and toss the decorative pillows to the end of the bed before crawling in. I’m just settling into the ridiculously soft sheets when my phone pings with a text. A smile pulls at my lips when I see Cal’s number. I was hoping I’d hear from him before I went to sleep. I know the phone works both ways, but I see him when he gets home from practice and games. He’s zonked, and I’m trying hard to keep my walls in place, though every day spent in this condo, I feel them falling.

Callum: Are you awake?

Eloise: I am.

He’s probably tired after his game and doesn’t want to get stuck on a call.

Callum: That’s right, I forgot you walked into practice during warm-ups.

Eloise: What’s that supposed to mean?

Callum: You know exactly what it means, blondie. I saw the way your cheeks flushed when I caught you watching me.

Callum: It’s okay. I put myself to sleep thinking about how good I’d look on top of you, too.

I shake my head at his antics, and before I can type back with a snappy reply of my own, he calls.

“Hey,” I answer, a little too breathy, out of sorts from his texts, and caught off guard by his call. It’s late. I’m supposed to sound tired.

“Hey,” he replies, his tone lacking its normal lightheartedness.

“I’m guessing you guys didn’t win.”

“No…” He sighs. “You don’t watch my games? I understand why you don’t come, but seriously, you can’t even turn on the TV?” He’s a little miffed, and rightfully so. However, I don’t refuse to watch his games.

“I watch your games, Cal. Not all of them.” I twist a lock of my hair between my fingers and examine my dead ends. “They’re not always easy to watch, but that wasn’t my reason today. I got stuck in my head and, therefore, my painting.”

He’s quiet, and I feel bad that I overlooked the game. It’s only been a few hours, but I miss him. Staying in his place when he’s gone has helped, but sleeping in his bed has only amplified everything I feel for him. Part of me wonders if he knew it would, but before I can give his reasons any more thought, he says, “I haven’t had a great season.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Everyone goes through ups and downs. Your stats are down from last year, but they’re not your worst. You just haven’t found your groove yet.”

“You know my stats?” His tone is a decibel more upbeat than it was seconds ago.

“Yes, I told you I watch your games.” Just because I walked away from him doesn’t mean I wanted to. It doesn’t mean I stopped caring.

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