Page 88 of These Dirty Lies

Page List


Font:  

“Like you’re about to cause trouble.”

“Nah, man. I just want to hang out at the bonfire and chill.” Maybe a beer or two and a smoke would ease some of the restlessness inside me. I wasn’t going for the crowd or the noise or to hang out with the team, I was going for the distraction.

“If you say so.” Zane smirked, but his expression quickly fell. “But first we’ve got to survive the pep rally.”

“Okay, ladies, listen up.” Coach beckoned us in. The cheers of the crowd beyond the doors rumbled like thunder in the distance.

Darling Hill High was eager to welcome its team onto the stage because if one thing gave the school spirit, it was football.

I’d always loved it. The thrill of holding the ball in my hands, of commanding my teammates to deliver the perfect play. Squashing our opponents didn’t hurt either. But as the years went on, and my skill on the field grew, I became detached.

I was good, really damn good. I held two of the state records for passing yards and completions, and on paper I was the kind of player Division 1 colleges wanted in their ranks. But I was also a liability. My grades were mediocre at best, my attendance record was poor, and my school report was littered with suspensions and problem behavior. I was the Hawks’ star player with a questionable reputation. Albany U might have wanted my skill on the field, but it would come with a bunch of conditions I wasn’t sure I could promise to uphold. Because when you’d spent your whole life being told you weren’t good enough, that you’d never amount to anything, it was hard to shake that label.

And too fucking easy to live up to it.

“Last season we almost had it.” Coach Farringdon’s eyes found mine, disappointment radiating there. “But I’m not looking to live in the past. We drew a line under last season, and I want everyone to focus on this year. We have a strong team. A team who can go all the way. You just need to believe it.”

He ran his eyes over every single player, silently letting them know they were here because he deemed them good enough. Worthy enough to wear a Hawks jersey and represent his team.

“We might be the underdogs, everyone might expect us to mess up again, but this is our season. I can feel it.” He whipped off his ball cap and dragged his hand through his salt and pepper hair. “I want you to go out there tonight and soak it up. Your school is behind you. I’m behind you. You just have to believe you can do it. Hands in.”

We all moved closer, shoulder to shoulder. Friends. Teammates. Brothers.

“Nix, son, you want to do the honors?”

Fuck.

Pressure closed in around me, making my lungs smart. I drew in a deep breath, shaking off the weight of expectation. Coach’s. My teammates. The whole damn school’s.

“Uh, yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Coach is right, we came close last year.” Too fucking close, but it had slipped through our fingers, and it was all my fault. Because I’d lost sight of the prize. “So this year we need to step up and make it ours. We’re a good team, a strong fucking team, and we can do it. I know we can. Hawks on three. One… two… three… Hawks.”

My teammates’ cheers rolled through me, boosting the adrenaline coursing through my veins. But when we burst through the doors and jogged into the gymnasium, a sinking feeling spread through me.

Because I knew if I looked into the bleachers, I wouldn’t find her.

Harleigh was gone.

She was one of them now. She was where she’d always belonged.

And I needed to let her go.

But how did you give up a part of yourself—the better part?

She hadn’t just been my best friend; she had been my conscience. My redemption. My anchor.

Harleigh Wren Maguire had been my reason for breathing. Without her, I was drifting. Lost in an angry sea that wanted to pull me under.

It had taken months, months for me to get back to a place where I could function without her. But now she was back. Right on the other side of the reservoir, living on her father’s estate. And my heart, my heart couldn’t fucking accept it.

Even if my head knew I had to let her go.

“Soak it up, Nix.” Coach clapped me on the shoulder, jolting me from my reverie. “This is all for you, son. It’s all for you.”

“Yeah.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile as he guided me toward the podium.

It was all for me…

They were all chanting my name.


Tags: L.A. Cotton Darling Hill Erotic