Page 227 of Just for the Cameras
Graydon takes off toward the garage, grabbing his keys.
Oh shit.
“Graydon, stop, where are you going?”
“Going to talk to my dad.”
I’m off the couch and running after him before I can take my next breath. Quickly, I put myself in front of the garage door and place my hand on his chest. “Please don’t go over there, Graydon.”
“Why the fuck not? He needs to realize that he has no right being a part of my goddamn business. And I have no problem teaching him that lesson.”
“I know.” I rub my hand against his chest. “But going over there, especially in this state, is not going to help.”
“It’ll help me. I’ve been wanting to bury his goddamn head with my fist for a long time now.”
“And that’s what I’m worried about.”
“You don’t need to worry about me.” He shifts me to the side, but I hold his arm.
“Please, Graydon,” I beg. “Please don’t go over there. Stay here with me.”
His eyes find mine, and I plead with him, hoping he can see my desperation.
“He’s never going to learn if I don’t tell him to mind his own damn business. He’s going to keep interfering with my life. Over and over again, until…until he does something like take you away from me.”
If Graydon only knew the full extent of the conversation I heard. But considering his reaction to the little news I gave him, there is no way I’m going to give him all the information. He would combust.
“That’s not going to happen,” I say softly, attempting to ease the tension rolling through him. “I’m not going anywhere, Graydon. This is where I want to be, with you, here, so don’t worry about me.”
“I am worried about you,” he says, a small piece of him calming. “I have…I have too much baggage, beautiful.” And my heart cracks from that statement because I know he sees that as a negative…a burden, but I don’t see it that way.
“Everyone has baggage in their life, Graydon. Some more than others, but that doesn’t make you any different.”
“It does,” he says, his eyes snapping to mine. “My own father abandoned my mother when she needed him the most. He abandoned me, left me to rot with a goddamn nanny while he was off fucking women and playing football. And now, while I’m older, living my own life, he’s still trying to fuck with me. Attempting a trade for his benefit. Parents are not supposed to do that.”
Neither are good coaches, to my knowledge. How could his coach support his jerkface father’s plans?
“I know,” I say softly. “And I’m so sorry that you have to have someone like him in your life. You don’t deserve that—”
“No, I do.” He shakes his head. “It’s not like I’m a goddamn hero that goes around saving lives. I’m a selfish asshole who plays football.”
“Selfish asshole? How on earth do you see yourself that way?”
His eyes land on mine, insecurity puncturing his pupils, and in a low, saddened voice, he says, “Claimed you as mine.”
“Graydon,” I whisper, my heart breaking. “That’s not selfish.”
“It’s not?” he asks, taking a step back. “Look at the shit I’ve already put you through. From the moment I met you, I’ve been a burden. I’ve hurt you. I’ve asked you to do things I had no right asking you to do, and now you’re subject to—”
“Stop,” I say, gripping his cheeks. “You’re spiraling.”
“Of course I’m spiraling.” He pushes his hand through his hair and steps away. “You realize how ridiculous this is, right? My dad wants to get me traded so I don’t break his records because he’s so damn full of himself that he can’t possibly watch his son, that he couldn’t care two shits about, rise above him. And you, the girl I fucking like, have to be the one who sits there and listens to it. It’s embarrassing, Maple. You deserve better than this.”
“Stop saying what I deserve because you don’t get to have an opinion on that matter. This is my life, and I’m choosing what I want to do with it.”
“You’re choosing wrong,” he snaps, causing me to falter in my confidence. He walks over to the kitchen and places his hands on the counter, where he takes a few deep breaths. “Maybe…maybe you should leave.”
Absolutely not.
