Page 68 of Nash

“Follow me,” I say, grabbing my bag and heading outside. We walk a few feet away from the coffee shop to a quiet street corner.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Is that all this was?” Nash asked, slowly pacing in front of me. “Was I only a tool to get views?”

I've never seen him so intense, so worked up. He can barely stop moving, and those normally playful blue eyes are like ice chips as he looks at me. “How can you ask me that? Do you not know me at all?”

“I don't know, Reese,” he says, throwing his hands up before letting them smack against his sides. “I don't know if I do. Oneminute, I'm excited, thinking about the future with you, and the next I'm being attacked by a teammate who's accusing me of not giving a shit about his well-being. And then I get told that you're out making dates with douchebags, trying to get new content becauseourvideos aren't performing well.”

My lips part, and I swear I feel his words like a physical blow.

“You aren't serious,” I say, shaking my head. “You honestly think that's what I'm about? You think I only care about the page’s performance?”

“You didn't take down Daniel's video.” He doesn't yell, but his tone is sharp enough that I flinch.

“I—”

“You knew he was getting horrible,dangerouscomments and you didn't take it down,” he cuts right over me, not even giving me a second to explain. “Do you really only care about the view count? Even though Daniel's receiving death threats and his wife is afraid to go out in public. That's why you're here with Darrell, having a date when you couldn't even make time to be with me this week?—”

“That's enough,” I cut him off, tears spilling down my cheeks. My voice cracks but I don't care. “I've heard enough,” I say, swallowing the emotion clogging my throat. “I don't know what triggered this, and I don't know how you can spend the last five months with me and think these things about me, but if you do believe them…if you believe thevilewords that are spewing from your mouth right now, you have no clue who I am.” I shake my head, my heart sinking into my stomach. “I thought you were smarter than this,” I say. “I understand getting angry. Hell, I got angry just now when Darrell informed me that you've been telling everybody in the locker room that I do this forfun. That this was just a beneficial situation forbothof us. But I was going to ask you about it. I was going to hear you out because I didn't believe for a second that's how you spoke about me when Iwasn't present. But look at you, all up in your anger and taking it out on me when you're not even giving me a chance to explain.” Disappointment settles heavy in my now cracking heart.

Patience. Monroe had told me I’d need to have patience exploring this new, serious territory with Nash, butdamn. It’s hard when he’s being so reactive.

If he’d given me one chance to explain I would’ve told him all about the situation with Daniel and the video. I would’ve told him Ididtake the video down.Daysago. I had an entire discussion with Crossland McLaren and Coach about it. But I couldn't do anything about the screen recordings of the video that were circulating around the sports influencers right now. As much as I try to reach out to every single one to get them to take theirs down so we can stop doing more damage and bringing attention to all the derogatory comments, I couldn't keep up with every single one of them. I spoke to Daniel’s wife, explaining all of that, plus what I was working on to try and help the situation, and she was completely understanding. Supportive even, but she must not have had a chance to tell Daniel about it yet.

I shake my head, wanting to tell him, but after what he’s said? There’s no point.

“Can’t believe this,” I say, mostly to myself.

The anger seems to fade out of him, his shoulders dropping, his eyes clearing from the hardness that clung to them seconds ago. “Reese?—”

“No,” I say, my heart flinching at the way he says my name—like a plea and apology at the same time. But I'm done. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”

I head toward my car, and hear him following me, my name on his lips.

“Don't,” I say, throwing my hand up at him. “Do not follow me. I need space…if you say anything else…”

I might not have the patience to stop my heart from fully breaking.

“I’m sorry,” he says as I get into my car. “Reese…”

I drive off, and the farther I get the stronger my tears fall. I dial up the girls and call an emergency meeting, and within fifteen minutes I'm in Monroe’s living room, Blakely and her surrounding me on her couch as I let it all out.

“I took the video down,” I explain through my sobs. “I took it down the second it turned dangerous. I told Daniel’s wife that, but she must not have told him everything or Daniel must not understand that I can't control every screen recording and stitch that's been made. I needed to talk to him in person, but Nash didn't even let me explain. And God, he thought I was having a date with Darrell? That I was making some deal with him? How could he even think that about me?”

“He's being an idiot,” Monroe says, hugging me close.

“He's in love with you,” Blakely says, totally not what I was expecting.

“What? He is not,” I say. “Someone in love with someone wouldn't say those things.”

Blakely looks at me sympathetically. “I'm sorry,” she says. “But that's how I'm reading it. Nash has never been in a real relationship before, and he’s never acted like this before. He's terrified of losing you, and the first second he thought he did, the first second that he thought you may have played him, he let his hurt and anger take over. I'm not saying it's an excuse, I'm just saying that was a terrified man reacting in a very terrible way to a situation he didn't understand.”

I hate that she makes sense. “You're supposed to just call him an asshole with me,” I say, laughing darkly. “Not make sense.”

“Okay then,” Blakely says. “He's an asshole and we should go put sugar in his gas tank.”

“I happen to have a new bag of sugar in my pantry,” Monroe says, and I can't help but laugh through my tears.

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