Page 59 of Faking It with my Hockey Crush

“Because you deserve nothing less,” he yelled back. “You wreck your own life, and now, you’ve gone and wrecked Emma’s. Her life was perfect before you walked into it. She had a reputation, a business, a life away from you. Now, you’ve humiliated her all over again.”

His words pierce me because I know this is going to kill her when she sees it. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. After everything that happened between us, all the words we shared last night, and that wonderful tender kiss, I can feel things falling apart. Even though this isn’t my fault. For a change.

But as I’m thinking of all that, Thomas’s words are echoing in my head.

“Now, you’ve gone and humiliated her all over again.”

“What do you mean, ‘all over again?’” I glare at him.

Thomas holds my stare, but I can see the slightest bit of doubt in his eyes. “You did the same in high school,” he rasps.

“And how would you know about that?” I push.

“Because I was there,” he spits. But his words are losing the conviction they held moments ago when he was yelling at me, and I’m trying to figure out why. And then it suddenly hits me.

I stare right into his eyes. “You like her. You’ve always liked her.”

“What?” Thomas falters, his face reddening, his frown so deep you could fall into it. And then he shakes his head frantically. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

But he’s lying through his teeth, and we both know it.

“This is why you’ve been such a pain in my neck since I got here. Admit it. You like Emma.”

He stands there, his eyes looking anywhere but me, still shaking his head as though he’s in some sort of denial. And then he spins to glare at me.

“And what if I do?” he barks, clearly figuring I’m not going to let it go. “It’s not like you care about her. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You always had to be brilliant at everything, didn’t you, Ryan? I could never fill your shoes. I was always in your shadow. And even though I’m the smarter, more caring one of the two of us, Emma Carter has never looked at me twice.”

“You knew she had a crush on me?” I blurt.

“Of course I did,” he hissed. “In high school, I was pining for her while she was pining for you. It was pathetic, really.” With his anger building again, he narrows his eyes. “But you broke her heart all those years ago, and now, you’re going to do it all over again,” he yells.

I don’t fight back this time, though. I can see the pain in his eyes. The deep, soulful pain of a man who has yearned after something he can never have. And maybe, given my current situation, I can empathize more than Thomas knows. But I don’t want to argue with him anymore.

“You’re right. I was an arrogant jerk back then,” I say, my voice quiet and calm. “I was foolhardy and made stupid mistakes. And yes, I did hurt Emma. I didn’t know I hurt her, but then, I was an arrogant jerk, right?”

Thomas is now looking at me with a fixed stare.

“But now, I’m in love with her, Thomas. I love her,” I say, thumping my fist to my naked chest. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her, and while I don’t know what our future holds, there is no way I would jeopardize my chances of being with her like this.” I shake the newspaper that I’m still gripping. “I wasn’t there.”

My brother looks at me with a cynical stare. I can see his mind working, trying to figure out whether I’m telling the truth or not. The silence is heavy and deafening between us, and then eventually, he sighs.

“So, how did she get that picture?” he asks. His tone is still terse, but it’s calmer than before, which, I suppose, is something.

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

“Let me see it,” he says, waving his hand at the paper.

I hand it over, and he takes a long look at it. He examines it for several minutes, and without lifting his eyes, he says, “Could be Photoshopped.”

“It has to be Photoshopped,” I blurt. “She took a picture of the bar while she was here in town, and… and…” I struggle to fill in the rest, flapping my arms in desperation.

“Paid someone else to put you and her in it,” Thomas concludes calmly.

“Yes. Yes,” I cry, desperately grasping on to the only explanation that seems logical.

Thomas drops the paper and looks at me again for a long moment. “So, you love her.”

I nod. “With all my heart.”

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