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“And you’re not pregnant. Will this ease Grayson’s worries?”
“Not likely.” I snap a photo of the negative test. “But at least I have evidence to show him he has nothing to freak out about.”
I’m not really all that sure it matters at this point. He’s beyond the point of being rational, and even though I want to fight for him anyway—for us and for the future where we stand together watching this same kind of test but hoping for a different outcome—I’m not sure it’s a fight I have any chance of winning.
Chapter 53: Grayson Nash
Does Anybody Actually Know You
I glance up from where I’m focused on my leg curls when I see something out of the corner of my eye, and I spot Patrick waving his hands at me.
“Nash!”
I yank out an AirPod after I lower the weight. “What?”
“Are you okay?”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Why?”
“I’ve just never seen you go this hard.”
“Yeah, well, we haven’t known each other that long.”
“I’ve also never seen you this grouchy,” he points out.
“I’m not grouchy,” I say. It’s a lie. I’m definitely grouchy.
“What’s going on, man?” he asks.
I sigh. “Nothing I want to talk about.”
“Okay. Well, I’m here, you know,” he says.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“And I’ll be right here all season,” he adds. “It’s not like you can get rid of me. So you might as well get it off your chest so we can move forward.”
“I’m just going through some personal shit. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Got it.” He presses his lips together and nods, and then he studies me thoughtfully for a beat. “You know, you’re one of those guys who seems like he’s everybody’s best friend, but does anybody actually know you? The real you, I mean.”
It’s a fair question, and the answer is complicated.
If anyone does, it’s Ava.
Beckett comes close, but given that I’ve been lying to him for the last four months about what’s really going on with his sister, I’m not sure I can still claim him on the people who know me well list.
He walks away, clearly asking a rhetorical question, but it’s the kind of question that kicks me clean in the stomach when I’m already down.
It’s the kind of question I’ll take some time to ponder.
Yeah, I can talk to anybody. I can entertain a room. I can make everyone feel like they’re my best friend.
But the vulnerable side of me locks a lot of myself away. Maybe it’s some small part in the back of my mind that thinks people only like me because I play football, or because I have money, or because I have connections.
It’s the part of me I refuse to acknowledge most of the time, but I’ve never heard that pushing away your real feelings is a solid way of dealing with things.
Except…it’s how I’ve dealt with things my entire life.
