Page 135 of Second-Rate Superstar

It was finally time for me to get my fresh start.

Chapter 32

Dakota

Bristol found me curledup on the living room floor in the fetal position with the front door still wide open when she returned home from class.

“Dakota!” she cried, rushing to my side. “What’s wrong?”

I had no idea how long it had been since Braxton left me there, but I knew I’d run out of tears, and my eyes were sore from crying. Though nothing could compare to the pain of my heart cracking in two.

When I didn’t answer, Bristol rubbed her hands over my arms. “You’re freezing! Why is the door open?” She left my side and shut it before returning, trying to ease me into a sitting position.

“Dakota, you’re scaring me.” Panic laced her voice.

I managed to get out a single word. “Braxton.”

Bristol gasped. “Oh my God. Did he get injured? Is he okay?”

“Pretty sure he broke up with me.” Tears sprang to my eyes once more as a fresh wave of pain washed over me.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense. He’s crazy about you.”

“He found out about the book.”

Peering down at me, Bristol’s brow furrowed. “What book? Yours?”

God, we had been popping champagne and celebrating its success only days ago, and now it had torn my life apart.

I managed a weak nod. “He thinks I used him.”

She paused, thinking it over. “Are you sure you aren’t playing it up bigger in your mind? He’s Braxton. Literally the sweetest guy on the planet. If he knew how wrecked you were, it would kill him. I know it.”

Swallowing, I sniffled. “You didn’t see him. He was so angry.”

Bristol stiffened, tightening her arms around me. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not physically. His words cut as sharp as knives, though. The things he said . . .” My voice broke. “I’m the villain in his story.”

“No, Dakota,” she whispered.

“It’s true.” Big, fat tears rolled down my face. “I should have never used the personal details of his life in my book. I was so caught up in how he made me feel and how different he was from the stereotypes that I was eager to share that side of athletes with the world. I wasn’t thinking. I made a huge mistake, and it may have cost me everything.”

Stroking my hair, Bristol tried to console me. “Look, give it a little time. Let him cool off, and then you can have a conversation. He loves you. Anyone with eyes can see that. Everything will be fine. I know it.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I was willing to try. If there were even the slightest chance I could fix this, it would be a miracle.

That hope was all I could cling to as I cried myself to sleep.

I gave it three days before I tried calling Braxton, but as expected, he didn’t answer.

Busying myself with damage control, I waited another two before trying again.

Still no answer.

Another day went by, and I figured it was time for a new tactic. Declining my calls was easy—the simple press of a button. If I texted, the message would pop up on his lock screen, and I might have a chance of him reading it before swiping to delete.

Taking a deep breath, I typed out the words.

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