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She’s my phone-a-friend.
My lifeline.
Every.
Single.
Time.
I squeeze my eyelids shut. “It was about Britt.”
“Ahhh.”
“Everything that’s happened has really knocked me off balance.”
“That’s understandable, Colby. Anyone going through what you are would feel the same way. It’s just going to take time.”
“I thought I knew her.” All right, maybe that’s not entirely true. I could sense from the beginning she was holding back. I just never imagined it was something of this magnitude. “This would have been easier to deal with if she’d told me the truth from the beginning.”
“Well…I can only imagine that she needed time to build trust before revealing who she really was.”
“I guess.” That acknowledgment isn’t enough to stop the hurt from flooding in.
“Have you figured out where you two go from here?”
I rest my elbows on my outstretched knees before hanging my head. “Nope.”
“What you need to decide is if you’re ready to walk away and end your relationship.”
My heart picks up tempo at the thought. “I’ve never felt this confused or torn.”
“I know, sweetie. Britt’s the first girl you’ve introduced us to since high school. You wouldn’t have done that unless you’d developed strong feelings for her.”
She’s not wrong. But still…
“The trust has been broken, and I’m not sure if it can be repaired.”
“Because she didn’t tell you who she was right away?”
“Well, yeah,” I mumble.
“Kind of seems like she might’ve had a good reason to be cautious. Look what’s happened in just twenty-four hours.” When I fail to respond, she continues. “The only advice I can give you is to think long and hard about your future and who you want to share it with.”
“Thanks, Mom. You’re right.”
“Anytime.”
“I love you.”
“Right back at you, Colby.”
After I hang up, the silence of the locker room presses in on me as our conversation circles through my brain.
Mom is right.
It all comes down to what I want my future to look like.
35
BRITT
My belly is a tangle of painful knots as I pace the small dining area. Even though I’ve been expecting the knock, the sound of it is enough to startle me.
I just want to get this over with.
With a swipe of my palms against my jeans, I force myself to answer the door. I swing it open and find Axel waiting on the other side. He’s dressed similarly as to when I caught sight of him in Vegas. Like he’s ready to hit the club. Lavender dress shirt unbuttoned midway down his chest and black pants. A black leather jacket is draped over his shoulders and his favorite crocodile loafers complete the look. I’m sure his stylist threw this together before he took off.
“Hi. Thanks for coming over.”
“Well, it’s not like I was going to head back to LA without talking to you. I didn’t fly out here to be ignored, B.”
Already I can see how this conversation will go.
He brushes past me before I can invite him inside and drops down on the couch as if he owns the place. A bored expression settles on his face as his gaze roves over the interior.
“So…this is where you’ve been hiding yourself all these months, huh?” His upper lip curls. “I figured you’d be in Costa Rica or Paris. Maybe a spa in the Sonoran Desert.” He waves a manicured hand around the space. “Not some shithole college town.”
I should thank him for reminding me of who he really is when he’s not putting on a show and trying to dazzle the audience. It’ll make this convo much easier.
I gravitate to the armchair across from him and attempt to appear just as nonchalant about the situation as he is. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He shrugs as if he doesn’t care one way or the other. “Look, dude. You can do whatever the hell you want. But I draw the line when it affects me or my career. And right now, your bullshit is spilling over.”
I can only blink.
Whatever I was expecting him to say, that wasn’t it.
He straightens before leaning forward. His steely gaze stays pinned to mine. “You’ve spent more than enough months slumming it, trying to find yourself. And we’ve all been patient. Now it’s time to pack up and return to reality.” He jerks a brow. “You remember what that is, right? It’s the show that pays our bills.”
My mouth turns bone dry as I force out the one question that has been gnawing at me for years. “And what if that’s no longer what I want?”
For the first time since waltzing into the apartment, genuine humor lights up his handsome face. “Give me a break, B.” He throws his arms wide. “Take a good look around. This is what you want? This…ordinariness?”
He spits the last word out as if it’s a dirty one.
I glance around the apartment. All the little touches I’ve added over the months have turned it into a home. Maybe it’s less than seven hundred square feet in size, but it’s become a refuge.
