“Genni’s asking me—well, you know, if we’re going to the wedding—or not.”
Poor Will sounded like he was walking in a mine field. Genni had become friends with Corey’s ex-girlfriend over the last three years. But Will, in solidarity with Corey, said he was only going to the wedding if Corey was. And no matter how much Corey said he didn’t care if Will went or not, Will wasn’t budging. Probably because Will had no interest in going, and he was using Corey as an excuse.
“I said—”
Will cut him off. “Last week, when we had dinner with them, both Hunter and Mel sounded like they wanted you to come.”
Corey groaned.
“Don’t stay friends with your ex-girlfriends if you don’t want to keep getting invited to weddings.” Will laughed. “But they did seem hurt that you were hedging about it, so this is actually me saying call her and tell her why you aren’t coming, man.”
“It’s going to come back and bite you in the ass if Holls talks me into going. You know that, right?” Corey asked.
“You and Taran should come. I love hanging out with her. And it would save me the fight with Genni.”
“I couldn’t bring Taran,” Corey scoffed.
“Why?” Will sounded lost, but to Corey, it was obvious.
“They made it clear that it’s a small private thing. No press.” Corey cracked his neck.
“Huh.” Will huffed.
Corey waited for Will to add more, but he was met with silence. “Did I lose you?”
“Nope, I’m here.” Will’s voice was laced with disapproval.
“What bug crawled up your ass?”
“No bug. Just thought when you said you were trusting her, you meant opening up and trusting her. Not the same shit as always—”
“That’s not fair.” Corey cut him off. His hands gripped tightly on the wheel.
“I agree. It’s not fair at all. You need to get your head out of your ass because you’ll hurt that girl.”
“Me?” Corey had opened up to her like he’d never done before. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do. Do you not realize that Taran is completely capable of dating you and being a reporter at the same time without confusing the line?”
Corey swallowed.
“She’s written about Clayton and even done two blogs about things with the family—with everyone’s approval. And I’ve yet to see your name mentioned. I’ve also noticed there have been no stories about Beth and Marc’s demon child who they can’t get to sleep. No gossip about the fact that you definitely dated Mel Holly. No stories about your crappy mood swings. Not once has this girl overstepped in any way. And yet she’s not good enough to take to your friend’s wedding. Just good enough to wet your dick—”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Corey barely got the words out through his clenched teeth.
“Fine, but don’t come crying to me when this explodes again. Because trust isn’t pretending you believe she has your back while you’re waiting for her to prove she doesn’t—”
Corey slammed his finger against the red button, ending the call. He was trying so hard with Taran. How could it not be enough? After stewing for the last of the drive, he parked his truck and headed into the locker room on autopilot.
“Someone had a good night.” Daily’s cheery voice pulled Corey out of his dark thoughts.
“What?” he asked, dropping his phone and wallet into his locker.
“Ten minutes late and in yesterday’s clothes.” The teasing smirk made Corey roll his eyes. A few teammates turned their way, but Corey shook his head, causing them to lose interest.
“It’s jeans and a white T-shirt—I own more than one.”
Daily walked over and traced a line over his shoulder blade with his finger.