Page 25 of Broken Player

The words started pouring out of me like they'd been on the tip of my tongue, waiting to escape and confess all my sins. "I never should have left without saying goodbye. I couldn't stay, but you didn't deserve that."

"Whydidyou leave like that?" she wondered, her fingers playing with the hem of her tank top.

Exhaling deeply, my shoulders slumped. I moved to sit up and lean against the wall before I let myself admit out loud how much I really fucked up. "Do you remember the night before I left?"

She scoffed and folded her arms across her chest as hurt flashed in her eyes. "Of course I remember. You gave me my first kiss and then took off as if you'd been shot. Then I never saw you again. Well, until yesterday."

I lowered my head, unable to take the hurt in her eyes. I could never tell her it hurt me just as badly as it did her for me to walk away, but I was trying to protect her from me. She'd deserved better back then. Honestly, she still deserved better.

"You'll never know how fucking sorry I am for that, but I hope you can believe me when I say I thought I was doing it to protect you."

She stood up and crossed the room, lowering herself to her knees so she was sitting right in front of me. She reached out and cupped my cheek with her soft hand, lifting my head so that she could look into my eyes. "I believe that. You were always my best protector, Maddox."

I leaned into her touch, never looking away from her intense stare. "I just want to know why you never called or wrote or texted. Why you completely shut me out," she softly demanded.

Reaching up, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, stroking her soft skin with my thumb as her palm rested on my cheek. Now that she'd touched me, I never wanted her to stop."I knew I'd never be good enough for you, Ryan. You deserve so much better than me. What if I-"

My voice had gone gruff, and I struggled to get the words out without the emotion overtaking me, my throat clogging, and my eyes starting to sting.

"Shh," she soothed. "I know you better than you think, Maddox Everleigh. There was never a chance you would turn out like him. You're good and kind in here," she said, moving her other hand to rest her palm on my chest over my heart.

The kindness and certainty in her eyes made my chest warm under her palm. A tear slipped down my cheek before I lowered my head into my hands and started sobbing uncontrollably. Fuck, when was the last time I cried? I came here to apologize and beg Ryan to give me a second chance, and here I was, breaking down on her bedroom floor instead.

Instead of being horrified by me like she should've been, she wrapped her arms around me. She held me close to her warm body while I cried, whispering comforting words into my hair, running her fingers through it like she used to do when we were kids, and I ran to her house after my dad beat the shit out of me. She'd always been my safe place, my refuge.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, and she leaned back, standing up. She grabbed my hand and pulled me up with her. She silently crossed the room and slid into her bed, pulling back the covers and patting the spot next to her. I couldn't believe she wanted me to stay after everything I did to hurt her.

I wasn't going to miss out on any opportunity to spend more time with her. Lowering myself unsteadily to the bed, I untied my boots and pulled them off before moving under the blanket and laying flat on my back. I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her close to me the whole night, but she didn't belong to me yet, and I wouldn't disrespect her that way.

Instead, I reached out and wrapped my pinky around hers before closing my eyes. Now that I'd unlocked the vault of my feelings, there was no going back. No shoving shit back inside. If she married another man at this point, I was pretty sure it'd destroy me.

The next morning, I woke up to cold sheets in the bed next to me. I had to wonder if I imagined the whole Maddox-drunkenly-crawling through-my-window-at-one a.m. situation. Was I so desperate for him to reciprocate my feelings that I made the whole thing up? I stood from my bed, stretching my arms overhead as I considered everything that happened last night.

Glancing back, I noticed a small scrap of paper on the side of the bed he slept on. All it said was one word:Thanks. -M. I blew out a breath as my heart rate picked up, and a slow smile spread across my face. It had been real.

Maddox did care about me, enough that he put us both through hell to try and make sure I lived a happy life. But what had he done to himself in the process? My smile quickly evaporated as I thought about his stint a few years ago in rehab I saw in the headlines, the constant string of girls hanging off of him in the news. He seemed so broken last night, and my heart ached for him, for what could have been.

But what should I do with his late-night confession? The information burned a hole in my brain, begging me to dosomethingwith it, but I had no idea what. I always hoped the day would come where Maddox would come back to me and tell me he wanted me like I wanted him. That he’d been waiting just as long and he made a terrible mistake when he left.

My stomach sank when I remembered why I fell asleep with hot tears streaming down my cheeks last night. Yates. I agreed to marry him, signed a contract, and now the ranch would be safe. No one would ever be able to take it away again, and I couldn’t walk away from that no matter what.

My good mood instantly evaporated. I had a strong feeling that Maddox wouldn’t wait around a whole year while I was married to another man I didn’t even know and could never love. My heart had always belonged to someone else.

Why couldn’t Maddox have come to me two days earlier? The ranch may still have been in danger of foreclosure, but I wouldn’t be engaged to Yates with a wedding on the horizon. The soft click of my bedroom door opening startled me out of my thoughts, and Quinn poked his head into my room.

He smiled at me, but it quickly fell off of his face as he took in my expression. Stepping into my room, he closed the door softly behind him, and then as he stepped closer to me, he faltered, stopping and sniffing the air. Confusion swam in his eyes as he looked me up and down. “Why do I smell cologne in here?”

I winced a little before patting the mattress next to me. “Come sit.”

Quinn sank down next to me but leaned back so he could watch my face. “Spill,” he demanded.

“Promise not to freak out?” I asked.

“More than when you came home and told me you were engaged to some rando you’d just met?” he countered, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, more than that.” I was twisting my fingers together, and Quinn reached out and grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together.

“I probably shouldn’t, but I promise. I reserve the right to punch someone if I need to, though.” Quinn scooted back on thebed until he leaned against my headboard, dragging me back with him where I sat across from him cross-legged.

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