Page 98 of Burner Account

I tried a different approach. “Isaiah.” By some miracle, I managed to take a step closer to him. “Have I ever given you any reason to believe I’m not all in with you? Because I am.”

He chewed his lip. “No. You haven’t. But…”

I held my breath, totally at a loss for what might follow that “but.” I’d tried so damn hard to make him happy. Where had I gone wrong? I was so bad at this. So fucking clueless about relationships. I couldn’t guess what I’d fucked up, only that I was determined to fix it if he’d give me that chance.

I was already startled by the direction this conversation had taken, and I definitely wasn’t ready for the tears in his eyes or the way his voice wavered when he asked, “Would you have even noticed me if you didn’t already know Ian?”

I blinked. “What… What do you mean?”

“Look at me, Tanner,” he pleaded softly. “Look atyou. If we’d crossed paths normally—if you hadn’t known me for four years before we met face to face—would I have even registered on your radar?”

The words“Of course I would have!”were right on the tip of my tongue, but the hurt in his eyes—the way he seemed to be bracing for my inevitable admission that, no, I wouldn’t have noticed him—paralyzed me. How could he think for even a second that I didn’t want him? Or that I’d needed four years of his personality as a primer before I could be attracted to him? Had he not seen the way I’d been wrapped around his finger from day one?

But as he looked away from me, the pain unmistakable in his expression, the truth settled in. The memory of other conversations that had left me speechless and confused.

And angry. So, so fucking angry.

That anger surged up in me now, but I forced it down; it wasn’t meant for him.

“Isaiah.” I touched his face and made him look in my eyes again. “I’m not your ex.”

He flinched, pressing his lips together.

I kept my voice soft, though not very steady. “Everything he’s made you feel about yourself—it’s a lie. It’s bullshit.”

“I want to believe that so bad. I really do.” His shoulders slumped. “But it’s not just him.”

“What do you mean?”

He swept his tongue across his lips. “My own family doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”

My heart dropped into my feet. “What? Why wouldn’t—” The conversation with Laura reverberated through my brain. Christ. She’d been concerned I’d break his heart. Had she and the family primed him for that by telling him it was inevitable? “What the fuck?”

Isaiah avoided my gaze. “Remember when my sister pulled me aside at the party?”

Ooh, yeah. I remembered. Because he’d come back looking like someone had died, and though he’d insisted he was okay, I’d felt it in my bones that he wasn’t. “Yeah. I remember.”

He swallowed hard. “My sister was pissed at me for upstaging her daughter at the graduation party. By showing off my boytoy.”

“Your boytoy? Seriously?”

Without looking at me, he nodded. “She said the only thing she could figure was that I wanted everyone to see you so they’d believe we hooked up for a little while. That way they wouldn’t think I was full of shit after you dumped me and moved on.”

“Jesus. She really said that?” I wasn’t surprised that his sister had said something obnoxious; she’d been abrasive as hell the whole time I’d been in her presence. Even when she was smiling and being polite, I could see it in her eyes.

Like, listen up, lady—I watch my media-trained teammates plaster on smiles in front of cameras all the time, and I see right through their bullshit. You think you’re fooling me?

Isaiah rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled. “Then my mom piled on, and basically told me that I shouldn’t get my hopes up with you.” He met my gaze, and the extra shine in his eyes hit me hard. “Because you’re a young, rich athlete who lives a different lifestyle than the rest of us.”

Christ. It had stung when Laura had said all that to me, but I hadn’t thought she’d actually say it to him. I didn’t want to tell him about our conversation, so I erred on the side of playing stupid. “What… What the fuck does that even mean?”

He swiped at his eyes, and his voice wasn’t steady when he spoke. “That someone like you is only going to slum it with someone like me until you remember you can do so fucking much better.” The tears welled up even more, and he dropped his gaze. “She didn’t come out and say it, but she wanted me to make peace with the fact that we’re both eventually going to figure out you can do way better than me.”

My heart once again hit the floor. “Isaiah.” I took his hand and clasped it in mine. “Look at me.” He’d never struggled that hard to meet my gaze. Not that I’d ever seen. Finally, though, our eyes met, and it was a serious fight to keep myself together as I whispered, “Thereisn’tbetter than you.”

“There is, though.” He squeezed my hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as out of my element as I was tonight. I mean, come on.” He threw up his other hand as he said with a watery laugh, “One of the wives thought I was a fuckingwaiter.”

My lips parted. “What?”

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