If You Were Mine Read online

Page 26


  There’s nothing I can do at this point.

  “Alright, Claire, let’s get going.” Liam turns to a still silent JT. “They’re releasing you. No charges are being pressed.” He glances towards Ryan and Holly.

  I can’t help look their way as well. My ex-boyfriend looks pissed off.

  “For some reason, I have the feeling there’s more to the story than what you’ve told us.”

  My gaze flies to his. When he continues staring at me, I say instead, “I’m really tired. Can we get out of here, please?”

  For just a moment, I’m not sure if he’s going to press the issue or not. But then he shrugs. “Yeah, let’s go before the press catches wind of this.” Shaking his head, Liam mutters under his breath, “Not to mention the front office. Your ass is in enough of a sling. This will definitely push them right over the edge.”

  JT’s only answer is to shrug.

  At this point, he won’t even look at me. Something twists painfully under my breast.

  I hate whatever this is that’s now happening between us. I wish I could ask Liam to give us a few minutes alone so that we can talk, but I know he’s already suspicious of our relationship. My gaze flicks towards Cullum. The way he continues to watch the pair of us with that knowing expression… as if he’s just waiting for the opportunity to be proven right regarding my involvement with JT. And until I know exactly what we are, if anything, I’m not saying a word to them. I’m not going to make this situation even worse than it already is.

  Sucking in a big breath, I say, “Maybe I should ride back with JT so I can get my clothes and books.” I don’t even look at JT. I have no idea if he even wants me riding back with him, but we need to talk. And if it’s not now, then I don’t know when it will be.

  “How about we swing over on the way home, Claire-Bear?” Cullum’s sparkling blue eyes drill into mine. “Then you can pick up all your stuff.”

  Well, shit.

  There’s really nothing more for me to say. Not without rousing anymore suspicion.

  “Sure, okay,” I reluctantly agree, “that works.”

  Again I glance at JT hoping for some kind of insight, but his expression remains closed. I have no idea what he’s thinking or if he even cares that we seem to be over. Maybe he’s glad that I’ll be moving in with Liam. Maybe I was nothing more than a passing distraction, and now that he’s taken my virginity, he can move on.

  I hate just how much pain that thought brings to me.

  “Alright man, we’ll see you back at your house.” Liam claps JT on the back. “Thanks again for everything.”

  Not once does JT’s guarded green gaze touch mine. It’s like I’m no longer even there. “I told you, it wasn’t a problem.”

  That being said, JT takes off, and I stay with my brothers. Although I can’t stop my eyes from trailing wistfully after him, wishing that I were leaving with him instead. The further away he gets, the more torn up I feel about the way everything ended.

  Because I think that’s exactly what happened.

  We ended.

  As the three of us walk towards Liam’s Escalade, Cullum slings an arm around my shoulder before hauling me close. I almost stumble when he whispers in my ear, “You sure know how to pick them, don’t you?”

  To those words, I say nothing because he’s right.

  I certainly know how to pick them.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  JT

  Coach throws the newspaper down in front of me as I sit on the other side of his desk. I don’t have to glance at it to know what I’m going to find. Unfortunately, I’ve already seen the photograph.

  Actually, there are several photographs now circulating.

  It didn’t take long for the video to explode all over the internet last night. Every entertainment and gossip website had it splashed across their home page, not to mention all the sports channels that have picked up the story and are now running with it.

  I almost snort at that.

  Story…

  What freaking story?

  Although try telling Claire’s ex-boyfriend that. I think that douchebag has been interviewed on five different stations already. And that was at eight o’clock this morning. It’s probably more by now. Every time he tells the tale, it becomes even more embellished. Even more outlandish. You can totally tell that he’s soaking up all the attention this is bringing him.

  What a piece of shit.

  All I can say is that I never liked that motherfucker. Not from the first moment I laid eyes on him. Although it’s a little hard to feel vindicated when the progress I’ve made in the last eight months has been blown to total shit. Especially when all you see on the twenty-second video clip is me attacking some kid half my size, punching him over and over in the face.

  Yeah… it may have felt good in the moment, but not so much anymore.

  “JT,” Coach snaps, “are you paying attention to one damn word I’m saying?”

  The fact that he looks like he’s on the verge of stroking out has me sitting up a little bit straighter. “Sorry, Coach.” Not knowing what else to do, I run my hands through my hair. I’ve already apologized. Half a dozen times. But that doesn’t stop the words from sliding off my lips again. “I’m really sorry about all this. The situation got out of control before I could think about what I was doing.”

  That’s not exactly true.

  I knew what I was doing.

  Now… should I have hit that douchebag?

  Especially in such a public setting?

  That’s a tough call.

  Although I’m willing to bet the front office and the coach’s staff would all unanimously agree that the appropriate response would have been to walk away like a pussy with my tail tucked between my legs.

  Am I sorry that I lost my shit?

  Yeah… I guess.

  But hearing him talk smack about Claire like that had me totally snapping. Coupled with the fact that I’m still pissed about him trying to force himself on her. And then to tell her roommate, the one person who is supposed to be her best friend, that she just freaked out because she’s inexperienced…

  Even thinking about that little weasel has me fisting my hands together, wanting to knock him out all over again.

  Looking disappointed, Coach shakes his head. “What the fuck am I going to do with you, Higgins?”

  That sounds more like a rhetorical question to me.

  At the moment, all hell is breaking loose around me. That freaking video- actually, there are several- is everywhere. The last time I looked, it had over a million hits on YouTube. A few of the stations and websites are playing up the angle that I went after some defenseless college kid. Not only stole his girlfriend, but then attacked him when all he was trying to do was have a simple conversation with her.

  Jackwad, of course, has tweaked his original story to fit that scenario. I’ve got to hand it to the kid. He certainly knows how to work a situation, that’s for sure. Since my PR dude has told me not to respond- no matter what- I’m only being quoted as saying repeatedly- no comment. Which doesn’t exactly paint me in the best light.

  I’ll tell you what, though- if I could get my damn hands on that punk again, I’d do a hell of a lot more than break his fucking nose. That being said, no one is happy with me at the moment. From the general manager of the team on down. Apparently, you screw up one time in eight months, and suddenly you’re on everyone’s shit list. Although I can’t say that any of my teammates are pissed that I’ve once again managed to end up on the front page. Liam let it be known that I was protecting Claire.

  So… at least there’s that.

  As of yet, I haven’t reached out to her.

  I just… can’t.

  Not right now.

  I have no idea where we stand with one another. And listening to her tell Liam that we’re nothing more than friends… that I offered her a place to stay and that’s the extent of it... I’m not sure what to do with that.

  I mean… that�
�s exactly what she kept saying to me the entire time we were together.

  That what we had was just sex.

  That I was just taking her virginity.

  Hell… how many times did I shut down her attempts to look for an apartment?

  At least half a dozen.

  So… yeah… maybe this was strictly about sex as far as she was concerned. How the hell do I know?

  For the next five minutes, Coach continues reaming me out. I’m half wondering if this will be the final straw that breaks the camel’s back and I’ll end up getting traded at the end of the season. I can tell that he’s just starting to wind up again when there’s a knock on his office door. I don’t bother turning around to see who it is. At this point, it doesn’t matter. I just want this meeting over with, so I can move on with my day.

  Coach waves whoever it is into his office. I sit up a little bit straighter when I see my father. I’m sure surprise is written all over my face. And none of it is pleasant. If I was already having a fucked-up day, it just nosedived. Apparently, I’m about to jackhammer to an all-time new low. Which, quite frankly, I didn’t think was possible.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  “Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind if I have a few words alone with Jameson?”

  Well, shit.

  This doesn’t bode well for me at all.

  Honestly, my father has called six or seven times, and I’ve let them all go straight to voicemail. Awesome. Looks like he brought the ass chewing to me.

  “Yeah, sure. Maybe you can talk some sense into your boy.”

  My father grimaces at those words as if they are actually painful. “Doubtful.”

  Without another word, Coach quietly shuts the door behind him. For just a moment, my father glares at me as if I’m a piece of shit on the heel of one of his expensive wingtips before folding his big arms across his chest.

  “Couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone when I called?”

  Keeping my eyes on him, I shrug carelessly. Once again, I’m reduced to being a sulky fourteen-year-old punk in his presence. It leaves me gnashing my teeth together. “Been busy.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Your antics are plastered all over the papers and television.”

  “Not to mention the internet.” Christ… I should really learn to keep my big mouth shut. All I can say is that he brings out the worst in me.

  Eyes narrowing, he snaps, “You think this is funny?”

  I sigh before admitting wearily, “No. It’s not funny at all.”

  Before I can say anything else, he snaps, “Your damn right it’s not. I spoke with Stu today.”

  Even though those words surprise me, I don’t let it show. Because that’s exactly what he’s waiting for. A reaction. Stu Stermfield is the General Manager of the organization. They’ve been friends for years. Ever since my father coached here in Green Bay.

  He allows those words to sink in for just a moment before saying in a careful tone, “I think it might be best for everyone involved if you cut ties after the season and looked elsewhere for a team.”

  My brows practically hit the ceiling at his audacity. My father really is a pompous asshole to think he still has that much pull around here. Even with all his clout, he’s no longer in charge. He’s a glorified old-timer who is trotted out for meet and greets. He waves to the fans and shakes a few hands. He signs a few autographs and tells a couple of stories.

  That’s it.

  “All you’ve done since arriving in Green Bay is tarnish the Higgins name and make a laughingstock out of us. Quite honestly, your mother and I are fed up. We’ve had enough. It’s high time you moved on.”

  “Excuse me?” I almost laugh. “You actually spoke with Stu about trading me? You want me out of Green Bay that badly?”

  Not answering my questions, he sighs. It’s a long, drawn-out sound. “You know, from the very beginning you were a difficult child. Always demanding so much attention from everyone. Always trying to keep up with your brother. Always wanting to steal the spotlight from him. You were such a goddamn nuisance.” He shakes his head as if he can’t understand any of it. “I’d hoped that once you were older, you might outgrow those childish tendencies and start acting like a mature adult, but that has yet to occur.” He shakes his head. “Your career and how you’ve chosen to conduct yourself aren’t befitting to the Higgins name. It never has been. And clearly, it never will be.” He continues to glower. There’s not one single drop of emotion to be found within his expression. It’s as if we’re nothing more than strangers. Actually, he’d probably feel less animosity for a stranger than he does for me. “Your mother and I have grown weary of your antics. At this point, we feel it’s just best to walk away.”

  Walk away?

  What the hell does that even mean?

  My mouth almost tumbles open, but I keep my jaw firmly locked. The last thing I want is to give him the satisfaction of seeing that his barbed darts have struck a chord with me.

  I’ve never understood my father’s dislike of me.

  I just know that I’ve always felt it. He’s made sure of that. It’s almost laughable that I spent so many years doing anything I could just to please him. Trying to be the best at everything just so he would give me one small, crumb of affection and yet he’s always stingily withheld it.

  So clearly do I remember sitting in the kitchen with Bess after a game or when I would bring home an A on an exam. Without fail, she would make my favorite dinner and snickerdoodle cookies in celebration. We would sit at the kitchen island, just the two of us, and talk. She would tell me over and over again just how pleased my parents were with my accomplishments, but deep down I knew her words were a lie.

  “Why?”

  The word slips out of my mouth before I can rein it back in again. But then I realize just how tired I am of holding in all this poison, first trying to please him and then trying everything within my power just to piss him off. If I couldn’t have positive attention, I was hell-bent on seeking out negative attention in its place. That turned out to be so much easier than trying to earn his accolades. In fact, it was ridiculously easy because the man always seemed to be lying in wait for me to fuck up.

  Well… I’m done with that.

  In all honesty, I should have washed my hands of him years ago. But I suppose, buried somewhere deep down, I’ve been holding out hope that at some point our relationship could be different. That maybe he would eventually soften up. That he would finally see me for the man I’ve grown into. The accomplishments I’ve worked for and earned over the years.

  But that hasn’t happened.

  Today feels like the first time I’ve come to a place of understanding, of acceptance regarding what I’ve secretly been waiting for and the fact that it will never come to fruition. Furthermore, I don’t need his love or approval. There’s only one person who matters to me, and I’ve backed away from her because I was unsure of just where we stood with one another. I was afraid to put myself out there any more than I already have. Afraid she would turn away just as my parents have repeatedly done throughout my entire life.

  “Why?” He seems genuinely puzzled by the word.

  Realizing that it no longer matters, I come to my feet, ready to end this farce of a relationship. “Forget it, Dad.”

  His brows draw together as he continues glaring. “Sit down, Jameson. I’m not finished talking with you.”

  Ignoring him, I move towards the door. “Actually, I’m more than done talking with you.”

  Gritting his teeth, he points towards the chair I’ve only just vacated. “Sit your ass back down right now!”

  A gurgle of laughter escapes from my mouth. “Or what?” I tilt my head to the side. “What exactly are you going to do?”

  His jaw goes a little slack as his fingers clench and unclench uselessly at his sides. I’m not worried that he’ll try taking a swing at me. My father may be a lot of things, but he’s never once laid his hands on me. He’s a lot more cowardly then th
at. He would much rather beat me down verbally than strike me with his fists.

  And I’ve had enough.

  Before he can answer, I take another step towards him. My words are quietly spoken because I want him to hear them. I don’t want anger and rage clouding my message.

  “You know what, Dad, I think you’re absolutely right. Distance from one another is exactly what we need. All you’ve done my entire life is beat me down. Whatever happens from this point forward is none of your concern. I absolve you from all responsibility.”

  His mouth starts working as if he’s gearing up to argue.

  I can’t help but snort. “That’s what you’ve wanted from the beginning, right? Well, now you have it.”

  Realizing that I’ve said exactly what I needed to get off my chest, I head for the door. With each step I take, it feels as if the weight of the world is falling away from me. I’ve never felt so free. I’m suddenly wishing that I would have swept him from my life years ago.

  Just as I’m about to step over the threshold, he calls my name.

  I turn before cocking a disinterested brow in his direction.

  “I’ll have the rest of your belongings boxed up and sent over.”

  “Don’t bother. There’s nothing you have that I want anymore.”

  And then I’m gone.

  A million pounds of weight fall away as I go.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Claire

  “Hey.” Standing next to the lounger I’m sitting on, Cullum holds out a bottle of water. I take it before setting it down on the small wooden table next to me. “You’ve been out here for a while. Everything okay?”

  I shade my eyes against the brightly shining autumn sun before staring up at my brother for just a moment. Even though my life is in total upheaval, it’s still good to have him here. With his work schedule and my course load, we don’t always get a chance to see one another as often as we’d like.