Page 11 of Elite Player
He shrugs. “Figured it was probably better than whatever they’re serving you here.”
That’s when I crumple. This man, who doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall, has been to the hospital to visit me twice, cared enough to basically purchase me an entire home goodsstore, and provided me with a dinner that I never even asked for. While my family stands outside, probably gossiping and talking behind my back about how it all happened.
I don’t know how to handle any of it.
Nico, my family, this situation I’ve found myself in.
“I’m so sorry,” I hiccup, and he swipes his palms over my cheeks, shushing me.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He genuinely smiles at that. “Probably that your family thinks we’re getting married.”
I moan, dropping my head, and he leans into me, wrapping his arm around my middle, hand soothing along my spine.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I admit, alarmingly honest. Maybe it’s the concussion. Or maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t sprinted out the door, leaving me to handle this all on my own. Or maybe I simply trust him; I don’t know. But when he asks me to start from the beginning, I do.
“That’s my mom, grandmother, brother, sister, and my sister’s boyfriend. They came here because I need to be rescued.”
“From me?” Nico guesses, and when I lift my head, he wipes under my nose with the hem of his T-shirt. It’s sweetly endearing and completely embarrassing that he’s watching me fall apart.
I sniffle. “You’re the only reason they haven’t hauled me away yet.”
He lightly drags his knuckle across my temple, under the bandage. “Did you tell them what happened? That I knocked you out?”
“I told her I had an accident at work, and my mom thinks it’s a sign. The city is too dangerous.”
“Or just me,” he says with a grin that could incinerate panties. When I roll my eyes, he releases a soft, understanding laugh that calms me. Because at least he’s not freaking out. He’s taking this all surprisingly well. Especially when he settles innext to me on the bed, leaning back against the raised mattress so we’re shoulder to shoulder. “Okay, draw the connection for me because I’m not getting it.”
“My family doesn’t want me living here. They believe every bad thing they’ve ever heard about the city and don’t believe anything good I’ve ever told them. Plus, I’m unmarried, which…you know…”
He frowns. “No. I don’t know…”
I wave at myself, my greasy hair and face bare of makeup. Though I’m comfy in the clothes Nico provided for me in one of his gift bags, I don’t exactly have men lining up to date me, let alone marry me. “I’m… Never mind.”
“No.” Nico urges me to go on, tugging on my hand, his fingers folding around mine. I’m not sure if he’s always so tactile or not, but I don’t hate it. I really do think the combination of the concussion and Nico’s attractiveness is short-circuiting my brain. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It started last year,” I say, gaze settled on my knuckle, where he rubs his thumb back and forth. “I was supposed to go on a date, and I got stood up. Instead of telling my mom the truth, I lied and told her it went fine so she’d stop asking about it.”
Nico hums, drawing my chin up, my attention on his face, to his eyes alight with understanding. “But she didn’t stop asking, and suddenly, you have a fiancé.”
I nod, blinking back the wetness seeping into my eyes again. Because this is stupid.Iam stupid.
“And I walked in the door…your fiancé.”
I bite into my lip, nodding again, before mumbling a quiet, “I’m so sorry.”
He stares blankly at the wall, his cheeks puffed up with air, slowly releasing it like a pinprick in a balloon. When he’s done, he does it one more time, and I rub my fingers over my forehead, where a tension headache has formed.
If only I had the guts to stand up to them, to all of them. To my mom for never believing in me. To my dad for never payingattention to me. To my brother for being an asshole. To my sister for being everything I’m not. Waylon…
God. If only I could explain how their words have torn me down so long and often that living here away from them has made me happier. I’ve become a better person, and the little confidence I have gained here so easily slips away when I’m confronted by them. Especially in person.
My stomach churns, thinking of admitting the truth. Letting them know it’s all been a farce. Giving them exactly what they want. Proving them right. I am nothing.
Ugly.
