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“Fuck you.” I slap a massive shoulder pad. “Fuck if that’s why I’m here.”
His face twists, and he takes a step into my space.
“Why are you here? You treated him like shit.” He sneers. “Yeah, I know. You didn’t want him before, so why are you here now?”
“Because I—”
My mouth goes dry. I’m not saying this to Gray. Only to Drew. But Gray is glaring a hole through my head, and he’s the only one who can bring me to Drew.
“I care about him.” It’s true but not the whole truth. “I don’t know if he needs me or even wants to see me. But he needs someone. He’s alone and hurting, and I—” My breath hitches. “I want him to know that I’m here. For him. I... I don’t want him to feel alone right now.”
Gray looks at me for what feels like an eternity, and then his shoulders sag. “Look, they aren’t letting anyone see him now, only the coaches. They’re taking him to the hospital. Go home.”
His gaze scans my front and I realize that I’m covered in honey mustard and barbecue sauce. “Take a shower, and I’ll pick you up. We can go together.”
thirty-two
Anna
Leaving Drew behind is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. I’m shaking by the time I get home.
An hour later, I’m in Gray’s truck, and we’re headed to the hospital.
Our silence is awkward and heavy. I know Gray doesn’t like me, and I’m not keen on why he doesn’t. Guilt is a brick on my chest.
“You were wrong about him,” Gray finally says.
I stir from my vigil out the window. And he continues when I give him a questioning look. “Drew doesn’t sleep around. As in, he doesn’t have casual sex. Not for a while now.”
I must look skeptical—and I admit, I am a little shocked—because Gray shrugs. “Yeah, he went a bit wild for a couple of years. We all did. And yeah, he’s got girls hanging on him left and right. But that’s all they do. Hang there.”
“Out of the goodness of his heart.” The vision of endless toothpaste commercial candidates dancing through my head makes it all a little hard to believe.
“No,” Gray says with exaggerated patience. “More like he’s too lazy and too easygoing to give them the brush-off. He might fool around now and then, but he doesn’t fuck them.”
Gray snorts when I raise my brow. “Don’t believe me. But it’s the truth. Coach batters safe sex messages into our heads on a constant basis. Drew’s a star, and people will do anything to catch a ride. He’s got to watch out for false pregnancy accusations, potential cries of rape from women he never met, bullshit that most college guys never deal with. And well...”
“Well, what?”
Gray scratches behind his ear. “He got burned. The beginning of junior year. Jenny.” This comes out like a bad word. “Drew and Jenny had been together since the end of sophomore year. She wanted to get married.”
“When they were twenty?” I practically yell. “That’s ridiculous.”
He nods like I’m preaching to the choir. “That’s what Drew told her. But Jenny wanted insurance. That he wouldn’t sleep around, find another girl, as if that was even remotely Drew’s style. When Drew said no, that they were too young, she gave him an ultimatum and he walked.”
“Well, it’s certainly an unfortunate story—”
“A week later,” Gray cut in. “Jenny’s telling anyone who’d listen how Drew dumped her because he was stressed over football. That he was scared of losing. That his arm was ‘in agony’ after every practice. She showed people their text messages. Select ones that skewed the truth to her purposes.”
“That bitch.”
Gray’s expression turns ugly. “You said it. And they listened. The press. Other teams. You expose a hint of weakness, and they pounce. Drew was pummeled during every game we had. Now, every girl he’s with, he has to wonder if she’ll sell him out.”
I sink back into the leather seat, deflated. “Why are you telling me all this? I mean, shouldn’t you be watching his back, not spilling his secrets?”
“I am watching his back. You need to know that he isn’t a player. And if that’s all you’re after—”
“There are things about me that Drew had wrong too. I’m not telling them to you. But he’s more to me than just...”
