Page 81 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

I know he’s lying to me. I can’t believe how stupid I was to trust him. “I’m so sick of you saying that. You know trust works both ways. If you can’t tell me, then you obviously don’t trust me.”

“I trust you so much, baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” I say, my voice breaking.

“Soph, please let me in. I can hear you crying. It’s killing me.” I hear his hand running down the door. “Just please let me hold you right now, baby. That’s all I want.”

“I’ll let you in if you tell me why you’re paying her,” I say, between sniffles. “If not, I want you to go away.”

“I can’t tell you.” His voice breaks a little bit. “She has information that could hurt me—that could hurt my family. She’s blackmailing me. It makes me uncomfortable to be around her.”

“What information?” I say. “Just tell me.”

“Seb!” Joe’s booming voice makes me jump. “What the hell?”

“Did Chick tell you where I was?” Seb sounds angry.

“That old man has never done one thing to make my job easier,” Joe growls. “I saw him trying to leave in your car and stopped him. Do you have any idea where he lives? You can’t have your Range Rover parked in that neighborhood. Have you lost your damn mind? Get your ass off the floor. We’re leaving.”

“Go away, Joe. I’m not leaving until she lets me in.”

“You’re leaving if I have to drag you out of here,” Joe says. “Are you serious right now? We leave at seven in the morning on the last series of the season. We’re a game out of first place. Get your damn head straight.”

“I don’t care—”

“You don’t care?” I’ve never heard Joe sound this angry. He’s usually pretty under control, but it sounds like he’s about to blow. “I can give you almost two hundred million reasons why you should. Or are you forgetting about that contract you signed in the off-season? Get your ass off the floor. Now.”

“Sophie,” Seb whispers through the door crack. “I’m so sorry. It’s not what you think, but I’m so sorry I’ve caused you any pain. What can I do? I’ll do anything—”

“Go away, Seb. Please. That’s the only thing you can do to make it better right now.”

“Will you talk to me on the phone? I’ll call you when I get to the car.”

“No, I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Just go away.” I push myself off the floor. “This is making it worse, Seb. You’re hurting me more. Go away. Please.”

“Soph.” It sounds like he’s crying.

“Seb,” Joe says, quieter now, “you asked me to have her back, too. We need to leave. If not for your sake, then for hers. You’re hurting her. You can circle back around later, but give her some space for now.”

“Sophie, would it make you feel better if I left?” Seb says. He’s definitely crying.

I’m so close to opening the door. I want to hold him, too. I take a quick step back.

“Yes,” I say, my voice shaking. “Please go away.”

“Okay, I’ll give you the night, but I’m calling you tomorrow.” I can tell he’s still pressed up against the door. “Please pick up the phone when I call. Please.”

I don’t say anything, but I walk back over and lean against the door. I can almost feel his body pressed against the other side.

“Goodnight, Sophie,” he whispers.

When I hear him start walking down the hall, I run back to my bedroom and dive under the blankets.

* * *

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