Fading Out (Living Heartwood 3) - Page 59

Someone who can take care of her in the way she’s been accustomed to her whole life. I know, I’m not a fool—I get that love trumps all, and it’s what’s on the inside that counts. And all the other shit that’s floating around on little social media images shared all over the world.

And I know we can make it work between us without worldly comforts and financial security—if it came to that. Ari once said she’s nothing like her parents, and I do trust that. She’s not superficial. She’s just accustomed. She doesn’t know anything different.

But I do.

I know just how much money issues can stress out a relationship. I watched my parents argue about how to pay bills and send my brother and me to school. The weathered expressions on their faces at Christmas after they worked an additional part-time job to buy a few extra presents. I worked, too. During high school and into my second year of college to put away enough to live off of so I could play ball fulltime. I have a little saved away from my father’s life insurance, but I refuse to touch it. It’s there for emergencies only.

Ari’s had her own struggles, but she’s never had to worry about not having enough money to eat. She’s the most brilliant and supportive person I’ve ever known, and I can’t think of a single thing that would break her spirit. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let anything try.

So that’s why I’ve just come from Coach Carson’s office. After half a year of scouts making offers, attempts to recruit me for teams, I’ve officially made my choice. And Mathis was the only name I needed to hear. It wasn’t that difficult of a decision.

Going pro for Ari feels right.

There’s no buried anger or resentment, like there would’ve been had I made myself accept an offer for my dad. The bitterness of living a life he’d planned out for me. Or rather, a life he’d planned out for my brother, and I got stuck with the hand-me-downs. Fulfilling his dreams where Jake dropped the ball.

With Ari, there’s no sacrifice. She’ll encourage me to write and do the things I love right alongside football. There’s no option, really. I can give her a life, and she can help me live mine.

Because I do have to prove that much to her. That even though her family will never accept me as good enough, I will at least show them I’ll take care of their daughter in the way that’s most important to them.

I’m firm in my convictions as I round the corner toward my dorm room. So confident, in fact, I’m not looking where I’m heading, lost in thought; it was so easy all along. I can’t believe I ever battled the idea of my future. My eyes have been cleared of the fog, everything falling into place.

“Hey, bro.”

My head snaps up and my feet skid to a stop a few feet from my door. Jake is leaning against the wall, a stuffed trash bag at his feet, his arms crossed over his chest. His clothes sag off his tall, lean frame. He used to be massive; a solid wall of muscles and talent. Now, the hard years and probably the most recent stint in jail has transformed him into a lanky version of his former, glorified self.

But I’m in too good of a mood even for Jake’s shit to bring me down. With a wayward nod of acceptance, I reach out and embrace my brother. He claps me on the back. “How’d you get here?” I ask.

Backing out of our awkward hug, he shrugs. “I caught a ride down with a buddy. He got released the same day.”

I nod my understanding. Really, I’m relieved. One less trip I had to make, but still, I’d rather have picked him up. So I could’ve dropped him off somewhere other than here. Which brings me to: “Where you staying?”

“Ryder, relax. I’m not going to cramp your style, man.” He nods to my door. “This still your room?”

“Yeah,” I say, taking out my key and opening the door. “Glad you remembered.” But I’m actually impressed. It’s been about two years since he was last here, and he was sober exactly two days out of that whole week.

As we enter, I’m again relieved; Gavin is out. I’ll have to thank Vee for keeping him so busy lately. I’m not sure how the guys will feel about having Jake around. He’s not the most welcome person around here. Although he went to a different college and played for another team, still, with how things went down with his career, no one wants his bad luck anywhere near.

As Jake sets his trash bag on the floor, he gives my room a once over. I can’t help the tension forming between my shoulder blades. Wondering if he’s already casing my room; scoping out what he can get the most for. It’s a knee-jerk reaction. But one that’s not at all unfounded.

“I’m staying at the Lodge just down the road.” He grabs the remote from my bed and settles on the one chair in the small room. “Figured I’d stick around for a game or two. Give you some pointers. Then maybe head Mom’s way.”

“All right, yeah. Sounds cool,” I say. Though a call, a head’s up, would’ve been appreciated. But that’s Jake. Making it seem like he’s doing you a favor when in fa

ct he’s looking out for himself.

It took most of my life to figure this out. Years of looking up to my big brother, hero-worshiping him, made it painfully difficult to accept. I wanted to continue believing in him—believing the lie. Sometimes it’s easier than facing the truth.

“That bar still downtown?” he asks, pulling me out of my reverie.

And like that, my mood takes a dive. It didn’t take long. The last thing I want to do is bring Jake to a bar where I’ll be forced to babysit him. If he doesn’t wind up back in jail by the end of the night.

Frustration laces my next words. “I have an exam tomorrow, Jake. So, not really in the partying mood.” I shrug a shoulder. “Your showing up is kind of short notice.”

He tosses the remote down after finding nothing interesting on the flatscreen. Turns toward me. “What? Come on. I wanted to surprise you. We haven’t hung out in forever, man.”

“And that’s my fault?” I want to take it back as soon as it leaves my mouth. Fighting with Jake, trying to make a point, is a waste of breath. That’s what I’ve always told myself. I just need to ride this out until he leaves town.

But suddenly—I no longer care how riled he gets. I’ve always backed down from him, not wanting to stir all the bad shit up. Leave it where it settled, keep it buried. I’ve never once confronted him with the truth. And I’m now wondering if that was more for him or me.

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Living Heartwood Romance
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