“Asher, it’s okay,” Felicity said quietly, coming around to me. “We’re all here.”
“Ah, fuck it,” he expelled a long breath and then fixed his eyes on his two best friends and then he said the words I knew it would kill him to say.
“I won’t being playing college football next season.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Asher
The two guys who knew me better than anyone stared at me as if they no longer knew who I was.
“You’re joking,” Jase laughed but it was a strangled kind of sound that made me internally flinch. “It’s a joke.”
“It’s not a joke, Jase,” I said grimly. “I won’t be playing football for the Panthers.”
He sat straighter, running a brisk hand down his face. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind.”
“Jason.” Felicity shot him a harsh look before settling her eyes on me. “But you love football,” she said.
“Yeah, well, football isn’t going to secure my future. And we can’t all be like you, man, with a shot at going pro.”
Jason winced at the bitterness in my tone. I wanted to tell him it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with my piece of shit father, but I couldn’t find the words.
I was still surprised I’d even told them the truth about college.
“So if you’re not going to play football, what the fuck are you going to do?”
“You know Pittsburgh is my old man’s alma mater. I’m going to study business and when I graduate...” the words lodged in my throat. “I’m going to help Dad expand his tech business.”
“If that’s what you want, man.” Cam smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then good for you.”
“I still don’t get it,” Jase narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing me as if he saw right through my bullshit. “You can study and play football. Why would you—”
“Gotta grow up one day, right? Figured I might as well get a head start. Besides, it won’t be the same without you guys.”
“Ash, man, come on, this doesn’t make any sense.” I’d expected this, expected Jase to be the one who wouldn’t let it go. “You’re a Raider,” he said. “The dream was always college football.”
“Yeah, well, dreams change,” I said, exhaling a shaky breath as I locked eyes on him. Jase didn’t get it. How could he? Football had always been everything to him, the dream and the end goal. And despite his rocky relationship with his dad, at least Mr. Ford understood what it was like to want something so badly it consumed your every waking minute.
Right from when he first held a football, Jason was a star in his father’s eyes. I was nothing but a bitter disappointment to mine.
And now I’d disappointed my best friend. The guy who had been my captain and quarterback for as long as I could remember.
We were locked in an impasse. Jason wanted to say more; it was right there in his eyes. The need to unearth my reasons, to know why it had to be like this. And I was silently pleading with him to let it go.
In the end, it wasn’t me who walked away like I’d expected. It was Jason.
“Fuck,” I hissed, clenching a fist against my thigh. Mya got up and came to me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“He’ll come around.”
“Excuse me,” Felicity jumped to her feet. “While I go beat some sense into my boyfriend.”
“We should probably make a start on getting the bags,” Hailee said to Cameron who was staring at me with an apologetic expression.
“He’ll cool off. This is your decision, not his.”
“Thanks.” I gave him a sharp nod, unwilling to offer him any further explanation.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said the second me and Mya were alone.
She craned her neck to look at me. “Maybe the whole truth would have been better.”
“I tried but I’m not ready. If you think this changes things, them knowing the whole story will really screw things up.”
“They’re your friends, Ash, they’ll understand.”
Looping my arms around her, I held Mya tight to my chest. “I’m not ready.”
I didn’t know if I ever would be. I’d lived with this lie for so long it had become an extension of me. A ten-foot wall erected out of lousy jokes and false smiles. Telling them would be like baring myself to the world, the real me. Not the version people knew and loved. But the other version.
The dark tainted version that had anger simmering in his veins and pain festering in his heart.
“Okay,” Mya whispered. “We’ll figure it out.”
“As long as I have you, it’ll be okay.” My lips fixed over hers, finding solace in her softness, the little noises she made as my tongue stroked hers. Being with Mya was going to be complicated. But my whole fucking life was complicated.
At least with her by my side, I didn’t have to face the shitstorm alone.
After giving everyone a ride home, I returned the minivan to the rental place and picked up my Jeep. Mya had offered to ride with me, but I needed space. Time to clear my head, ready to deal with Dad’s bullshit when I got home.
Pushing open the door, I steeled myself when his voice drifted down the hall. “Asher, Son, we’re in the kitchen.”
Waiting to pounce, no doubt.
I ditched my bags by the staircase and made my way toward the back of the house.
“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” Mom greeted me first, her smile too wide, her eyes red and swollen.
She’d been crying.
Which meant he’d upset her.
Anger boiled in my blood. “Happy New Year, Mom. Dad.” I gave him a sharp nod while I hugged Mom.
“Did you have fun?” she asked, her voice significantly lower than usual.
“New York was great, thanks.” I forced a smile. “Did you have a nice evening?”
Dad and Mom spent every year at The Danforth, the only five-star hotel and restaurant in a twenty-five-mile radius. They always hosted an extravagant and exclusive dinner. It was the perfect place for Dad to rub shoulders with the other businessmen and wealthy people living in the local area.
“It was...” She hesitated, telling me all I needed to know, “lovely.”
Dad grunted. “The Ginly’s were there. Good people. Malcolm and I were hoping that since you and Kellie will be attending Pittsburgh in the fall together, that maybe you could—”
“The rest of the year is mine,” I ground out. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“I did. But then I didn’t expect you to be gallivanting around town with the Hernandez girl.”
“Mya. Her name is Mya.”
“I know very well what her name is, Son. What I can’t quite understand though is if you’re dating her to make a point or because you genuinely care about the girl?”
“Care about her?” I spat. “I don’t fucking care about her. I love her. I’m in love with her.” My chest heaved with the weight of the words.
“Love?” He chuckled darkly, the sound making my muscles tense. “You’re eighteen, Son. Love is for fools.”