Page 105 of How to Score Off Field

And goes back to voicemail.

I give my brother a frantic look when the phone beeps so I can leave a message.

“Uh. Hey, Tess, it’s me. Drew. Uh—Colter.” I’m an idiot. “I was watchingSportsCenter,and uh, there’s a story about me, and I was wondering if you knew anything about it? About, um, me getting a young woman pregnant? Seriously, Tess, please call me back, I’m kind of freaking out here. Let me know you’re okay. We need to talk. If this isn’t you they’re talking about, then I’m seriously fucked. Okay. Well. Call me. Bye.”

“Well, you’re not winning any awards for speech writing.”

“Screw you.”

And that’s when my stomach heaves. Clenches.

Empties.

Straight into the garbage can.

CHAPTER38

TESS

THE HEART WAS MADE TO BE BROKEN. – OSCAR WILDE

“Why wouldyou have sold the story? Why, Grady?”

I don’t understand.

Plus, I’m not far along, anything could happen between now and…

I told him in confidence because Miranda convinced me it was the right thing to do and what’s the first thing my brother does?

Sells the story to the press.

I’m so confused.

“Uh. Hey, Tess, it’s me. Drew. Uh—Colter. I was watchingSportsCenterand, uh, there’s a story about me, and I was wondering if you knew anything about it? About, um, me getting a young woman pregnant? Seriously, Tess, please call me back, I’m kind of freaking out here. Let me know you’re okay. We need to talk. If this isn’t you they’re talking about, then I’m seriously fucked. Okay. Well. Call me. Bye.”

I watched as my phone rang and saw that it was Drew; watched the NEW VOICEMAIL notification light up my phone, listened in horror as I played it.

His voice.

He sounded so…

Sad.

And confused.

One more thing we have in common.

“He feels betrayed. He thinks I did this to him!” I shout at my brother, who has the gall to sit in my best friend’s kitchen, looking not the least bit affected by the shitstorm of drama he created.

“Actions have consequences,” Grady states, plucking a banana off the counter and peeling it.

My brother hates bananas, so I know he’s only doing it to appear unaffected and bored.

When did he become such a dick?

“This is not what I need right now.”

“You clearly don’t know what you need,” he tells me, eyes scanning down the front of my shirt.

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