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“Hey, Kyleigh.” Tweetie gives her a hug, then whispers something in her ear.
Her gaze shoots to the couch. I follow her line of vision, and sure enough, there’s Conor drilling holes into both of us with his eyes—mostly where my hand rests on her hip.
We enter the VIP area, saying our hellos, and I introduce her to the guys she doesn’t know. I get her a glass of wine, and we stand on the edge of the VIP lounge and talk to my teammates and any of their significant others who are here. Kyleigh leans into me. I wrap my arm around her stomach, holding her back to my front.
But I can’t help feeling as though Conor is watching us, and when I look up, sure enough, the woman next to him—who is trying her hardest to garner his attention—sighs and slumps down in the circular booth, crossing her arms in a pout. I shake my head at him. He needs to get over this.
Kyleigh turns toward me, her lips kissing my neck. “Let’s dance,” she says in my ear over the loud music.
I pat her ass and stand straight, taking her glass and putting our drinks on the table next to us. Before we get a chance to head to the dance floor, Conor walks past, shouldering me as if he wants me to know he’s pissed.
Yeah, I already got the memo, asshole.
I tell Kyleigh to stay in the VIP section while I venture out to talk to Conor. I weave through the crowds, guys giving me high fives and girls stepping in front of me to try to grab my attention. Finally, I push open the back door where I saw Conor go and enter the alley beside the club. He’s walking toward the street.
“Conor,” I shout.
He stops and slowly circles back. Once he sees I’m alone and Kyleigh isn’t with me, he walks back my way. “What do you want, Landry? You can go fuck my sister on the dance floor now, I’m leaving.”
“We’re a couple, and I’m sorry if it bothers you, but when are you going to stop being such a dick about this?”
“I’m the dick?” He points at himself. “You know the bro code—don’t fuck the baby sister!”
“Where’s that written?”
“It’s common sense. I’m your teammate, and even if I wasn’t, you’re my friend. Hell, at one time you were my best friend, and I was fucking excited to come back here and build that back up. And we were until I realized the girl you’re fucking is my sister. I heard what you said about her. You implied that she was just a fuck.”
My stomach sinks, and I run a hand down my face. “I said that because I didn’t want to hear Tweetie’s shit. Hell, man, I love her. She’s all I think about. She’s all I want. She’s all I see.”
I swear that only seems to make him angrier. “Until when? Until you’re on the road, and she’s back home, and you haven’t seen each other or spent any real time together for weeks? Some woman will give you a little extra attention. Will she be all you see then?”
Anger boils inside me like a cauldron over the fact that he thinks so little of me.
“Nice best friend you are.” I pocket my hands so I’m not tempted to punch him like he did me.
He leans forward. “A leopard doesn’t change his spots.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You forget, we were best friends. How many girls’ hearts did you break in college, Mr. Heartbreaker?”
“Fuck you. None.”
“That’s what you say, and maybe that’s what you think, but I was there with you, seeing you with different girls. No one held your interest longer than a night or two. You’ll get bored of her just like you did the rest. Or decide she’s getting too close to your issues and back away.”
I want to stick up for myself and say that he’s referring to the college version of me. Throw stones that he wasn’t innocent either. But I’m not that twenty-year-old kid anymore. I’m almost thirty and have done a lot of growing up since then.
He looks over my shoulder and eyes me again. “Six years ago, I saw my mom with another man at a hotel bar. I confronted her, and she told me it was a mistake and that she was wrong to risk her marriage. Guess what? Here we are six years later, and she did it again. Like I said, a leopard doesn’t change their spots.”
I’m too shocked to say anything. The gasp behind me confirms I’m not the only one who heard him.
“You never told me!” Kyleigh rushes to my side.
I put my arm around Kyleigh because her world just got crushed again.
“You were nineteen, Ky. In your first year of college. You didn’t need to know. Mom came to one of my games and told me she and Dad were having troubles. She threw around the word divorce. I believed her remorse and kept her secret.”
Kyleigh steps in front of me. “We’re a team. We’re supposed to get through this shit together, but you took it upon yourself to try to deal with it alone and not fill me in.”
