Under the Lights Page 39

We all knew I was the crown prince of pretending.

Brady’s mom, Coralee, answered the door. She was the mother I never had.

“Well, Gunner, it’s good to see you. Come on in. I just took the others some snacks. Chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven.”

Just what I wanted to hear.

“Thanks, Mrs. Higgens,” I said, and she patted my back in her maternal way as I walked past her, towering over her by at least seven inches.

“They’re in the den about to watch last week’s game, again,” she added with an amused sigh.

We often watched our games from the past week over and over to improve on things we messed up and perfect things that were working. That would help get my mind off things. I loved this house.

“Okay,” I replied, then headed to the den, where I could hear Brady’s voice rising as it did when he got excited about a play.

“I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m saying if we take it in closer and tighten it, then we could demolish the Trojans on Friday night” was Brady’s argument when I walked into the room.

“And I’m saying it looks as tight as we can get it,” West replied, sounding annoyed.

“Could y’all just eat the cookies and stop arguing over this?” Maggie piped up.

“I’ll eat the cookies quietly,” I added to the conversation, and all three pairs of eyes swung to me.

“Gunner, good, you’re here. Listen—watch this play and tell that hardhead it can be tightened up and we can pull in Nash for the snap.” Brady looked passionate and fired up. That was why he was going to an SEC college and making a career out of the game. He saw what everyone else didn’t.

“Can I have cookies first? Your momma said they’re still warm.”

Maggie laughed, and Brady rolled his eyes. “We have a game to win Friday night, and you are worried about cookies.”

I nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Maggie pointed to the table where Coralee had left a large tray of cookies, some small sandwiches, and a bowl of barbecue chips. I made my way over to it and got three cookies for good measure and poured myself a glass of milk out of the bottle she had sitting in ice. Coralee Higgens was like Martha Freaking Stewart.

Brady sighed dramatically and dropped down onto the leather chair behind him. “I give up,” he groaned.

“Does that mean we can watch an episode of Fuller House?” Maggie asked in a tone that wasn’t serious. She was teasing her cousin.

“What the hell is Fuller House?” Brady asked as I walked over to sit in the other empty chair.

“Full House all grown up,” Maggie explained.

“Full House, that show from like the eighties or something?”

Maggie nodded. “Yep.”

That just got another irritated groan from Brady.

“He’s focused on winning. It makes him moody,” West told Maggie as he held her hand in his. I’d call him a pussy, but the dude had lost his dad recently and Maggie had helped keep him together.

“You seen Willa this afternoon?” Brady asked as he turned his attention to me.

I did not want to talk about Willa. I shrugged. “Nope. Haven’t seen her since we got to school.”

Brady frowned. “She seemed upset after school. I was wondering if she’d said anything to you. She promised me she was fine, but she wasn’t. I wonder if the crap she’s dealing with from her home is bothering her.”

Guilt. It ate through me like a painful stab in the chest. She was upset over the kiss and my leaving her. I did that. Not what she’d dealt with at home but what I’d done to her. I was a jerk. She knew that now.

I wanted to be all she needed, but I couldn’t be. I was too broken myself. I didn’t trust myself with something as precious as Willa’s heart. I’d been a screw-up my entire life. Acting out for attention and getting the wrong kind. Willa needed more than me. I wanted her to have the best. I wasn’t even a tenth of what she deserved.

“She seemed fine to me today” was all I said. “Let’s see that play, and I’ll give you my opinion,” I said, changing the subject off me and Willa. I didn’t need Brady thinking anything happened. He’d just make me feel worse. Besides, she needed him, and he didn’t need to be thinking about her kissing me.

Brady jumped up and grabbed the remote. “Watch the left side,” he said enthusiastically.

“Here we go again,” West grumbled.

I Don’t Hate You

CHAPTER 33

WILLA

The phone rang, and I almost didn’t answer it. The last call had been from Gunner, who hadn’t said anything to me but had asked to speak to Nonna. Apparently he was staying the night at Brady’s. I didn’t have to wonder why. It was obvious he was avoiding me. I’d be getting up early in the morning and going to the bus stop. I knew without asking that Gunner wouldn’t be coming to pick me up. The kiss had sent him running. Fine. Whatever. It would never happen again.

Kissing Gunner had shown me what I had been trying to ignore. He was the boy who had my heart now. Not Brady. But I couldn’t force him to want me. I would let him react however he needed. I understood hiding from life. I’d done it myself.

“Get the phone,” Nonna called from her bedroom. I had no choice now. I was going to have to answer the stupid thing.

Taking a deep breath and reminding myself if it was Gunner I couldn’t curse him out because he was dealing with a lot right now, I reached for the phone.

“Hello.”

There was a pause, and I almost said hello again; then he spoke.

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