Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
And just like that, Lucas is walking away. I’m frozen in place, helplessly watching him go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Lucas
I’m distracted all through my shoot, angry and sad and a million other emotions. Everyone can tell, and they’re steering clear. I’m a dick when I’m like this, but I can’t stop it today. I keep everyone later than usual because photography distracts me, and that’s what I need right now.
A better man wouldn’t have walked out on Hunter the way I did, but I’ve never pretended to be anything more than what I am. Everything my father said about me clashes with how Hunter defended me, the way he stood up to my father for the first time…for me. And I know my dad won’t take that sitting down.
I’m exhausted by the time I call it a day. I don’t really think about where I’m going before I find myself at the gallery. Isla takes one look at me, and I can tell she knows something’s wrong. I don’t say anything to her, instead going directly to our office. It takes about fifteen minutes, but then she joins me, closing the door behind her.
“What is it, babe?”
“My father decided to come and see Hunter during his Kansas City bye week. He saw us kissing and, of course, put the blame on me. Accused us of being together the whole time, of betraying Ellis, told Hunter I only wanted him to piss my dad off. Everything was my fault. Nothing new there.”
“Shit. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“So yeah, I’m sure everything is over with Hunter.”
She frowns, her brows drawn together the way they do when she wonders how I got from point A to point B. “Did he say that?”
“No, but you don’t understand the way he feels about football, about my father; hell, about Ellis. He’ll do the right thing, and he’s definitely not gonna want to bring negative attention to his game.”
“If that’s the case, Hunter doesn’t deserve you. I have a feeling it’s not, though.” She leans against the desk, next to my chair. “I’ll admit, I had my concerns in the beginning, but I saw how he is with you. He’s crazy about you, babe. He’s scared and worried about what will happen, but he loves you. He’s not going anywhere. But until you acknowledge you’re worthy of love, you’re always going to have that fear.” Isla leans over and kisses my forehead. “And you are…worthy of love.”
“You’re so mushy lately.”
“I’m serious.”
I sigh. “I know.” I rest my elbows on my knees, hands in my hair. “Fuck, this is hard. It was one thing to want him forever, but it’s even harder to have him. I keep waiting for something to go wrong. He hasn’t even called me.”
“Would you answer if he did?” My silence is all the confirmation she needs. “Then I’ll be an optimist for you: at least it’s only your father who knows, and not the whole world and your father simultaneously.”
“That’s the thing…I want people to know.” I realized that when he didn’t want to come with me to the shoot today. “I want to be with him for real, yet that feels like one step closer to the end.”
“I should refer you to my therapist.”
I roll my eyes.
“You think I jest.”
No, and it probably wouldn’t be a bad thing. My head can be a pretty fucked-up place, and I haven’t seen a therapist in a long time.
“I should go home and see him.”
“Did you run out right after it happened?” I look at her, and she shakes her head. “Of course you did. I know I’m fabulous and way more fun than him, but you should go see your man. He must be as confused as you are.”
She’s right. She always is.
I stand up and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Is. I’ll…go survey the damage.” Partly from my father, and partly from me. What was I thinking, leaving like that? I’m sure Hunter has been on edge all fucking day.
“Such a pessimist.”
“We covered that already, remember? You’re the optimist.”
“It’ll be okay, babe. I promise.”
“I hope you’re right.”
It feels like it takes ten hours to drive to Hunter’s place, which I guess isn’t hard to believe considering we live in LA and it takes ten hours to get anywhere. I have a key, but for some reason I knock, afraid he’s already decided he’s done with me and maybe changed the locks. I wait a couple of minutes, and when he doesn’t answer, I ring the bell. When it becomes clear no one’s coming, that he’s either not home or doesn’t want to talk to me, I sit on the step, pull out my phone, and call him.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” We’re both quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry I left. I was all up in my head, feeling guilty you had to deal with that, scared about how it will affect you, and selfish enough that I was also wondering if this will be the thing that makes me lose you.”