Page 8 of Unexpected Shot
That gets a minor laugh from me as Maddox knows I love to fuck with him. “I bet you can.”
“I’m going to ignore that dig, mainly because I did set myself up for it,” Maddox says. “But my question is, why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you hate Shelby?”
“I don’t hate her,” I say, which earns me two sets of lifted eyebrows. “I don’t,” I insist. “She hates me. Completely different.”
“Bullshit.”
Gabi’s reaction is firm, definite…and correct.
“Okay, she hates me more than I hate her,” I assert. “And I didn’t truly start hating her until she really hated me first. So, because of that, I contend that she hates me more.”
“But that doesn’t answer my question.” Damnit. He wasn’t supposed to realize that. “Why do you hate Shelby?”
“Yes, please answer,” Gabi says. “There has to be a story there. In fact, I know there is, and I know it happened when we were in high school. But the fact that both of you have kept it from me all these years is ridiculous.”
I shake my head, not wanting to air out this dirty laundry right now. For one, it’s not my story to tell. Two, I still, to this day, don’t know what happened at the tournament. One minute I was turning in cards, knowing I was the runner-up. I was fine with it. Shelby played her ass off that day. Yet, before I knew it, I was being called up as the winner. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t do anything to stop it, or even understand what the hell had just happened.
After the dust settled, I tried to talk to the tournament directors. All they said was that Chad did the math wrong on my scorecard and I shot better than I thought. When they counted the scorecards again, it showed I was the winner, not Shelby. I tried to object, but they weren’t having it. I believe their words were, “what’s done is done.” And me, being a dumb eighteen-year-old, I just let it pass.
Which, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have. It’s the biggest regret of my life.
I’ve tried to talk to her. Many times. I’ve tried to explain myself. But she won’t hear it. The stubborn woman has only dug her heels in more. And after so many years, a man can only try and explain his situation so many times before accepting it’s a lost cause.
Which sucks. Because I’m a lot of things in this life. Cocky. Brazen. A bit of an attention seeker. But I am not, never have been, and never will be, a cheater.
“I’m sorry, but if you’re ever going to hear that story, it needs to come from Shelby.” Standing up, I grab the bag of desserts Gabi packaged for me. “Until then, I’m going to continue giving her the same energy she gives me.”
I lean in to give my sister a kiss on the cheek, and quickly snuggle my nephew. “Thanks for the treats. I’ll be back Friday.”
Gabi nods, and as she starts to walk away, Maddox steps up next to me. “Are we still on for Sunday?”
Maddox meant to whisper, but he’s shit at it, making Gabi turn around.
The question’s clear on her face before she even asks, “What’s Sunday?”
I give Maddox a side-eye before answering her. “Poker Club. One last big night before Theo heads to spring training.”
The lie is easy enough to say, which is why we call our little group Poker Club. Telling anyone that Maddox, two other professional athletes—Theo Lawson and Asher Reed—and I get together once a month to bake is a conversation none of us want to have.
“Fun!” Gabi exclaims. “Maybe I’ll have Shelby over for a girls’ night. Maybe get her drunk enough that she tells me why she hates you.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I’m heading for the door when my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I’m a little surprised to see my agent's name on the text.
Ethan
Come to my office this afternoon. Three o’clock. Don’t be late.
What the hell? What does Ethan need that would necessitate him summoning me to the office on an hour’s notice? This day just keeps getting better and better…
“Everything okay?”
“I think?” I say to Gabi. “It’s my agent.”
