Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Now I feel like I’ve lost his respect, and honestly, I probably have. It shouldn’t hurt this much—but it does. It feels like someone I care about is walking away, and it hits me square in the chest, raw and familiar. Because I’ve felt this before—when my dad walked out and left us behind. When someone you look up to turns away, it doesn’t just hurt. It hollows you out.
Behind me, Leighton’s voice cuts through the quiet. “I’m so sorry. I came to the office today to tell you, Dad. I wanted you to know. That’s why I was there. That’s why I texted you. That’s why I wanted to have breakfast with you.”
“I can’t talk about this right now. We’ll handle this when I’m home. Good night, Leighton,” he says, more stoic than I’ve ever seen.
Then, he’s gone, up the stairs, and I rush back to her. Leighton’s hands cover her face, tears streaking her cheeks. My heart shatters.
“Sweetheart,” I say, desperate for words. All my schooling, all my talk of learning from my mistakes, and I’ve come up empty. Only that won’t do. I’ve got to do right by her. I reach for her hands, peel them off her eyes. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. Can I call you tonight when we land?”
She sniffs, swiping at her cheeks. “Go. Focus on playing. Don’t worry about me.”
“But I do worry about you.”
“I don’t deserve it,” she chokes out. “I ruined everything. I acted like my mother. This was awful, and it’s all my fault.”
“Leighton, it’s not. This blew up—it’s too much for anyone.”
“It is my fault,” she insists, her voice ragged. “I ruined it for you. For him. For us all. And now this talk of a—”
She doesn’t say the word trade, but it hangs between us like a curse. My chest tightens. I want to tell her we’ll figure that out too. But what the hell do my assurances mean anymore? I’m supposed to be the calm, steady hand. Lot of good that did.
And while her words gut me, I don’t want to make anything worse. “The whole thing…it just…” I drag a hand through my hair, searching for something to say to make it better.
But I find nothing.
“Go.” Her tone softens but still cracks. “You need to play well tomorrow. It’s an important game, and I can’t ruin things more.”
I hesitate, trying again. “I’ll fix this, I swear.”
She stops crying, staring at me like she’s seeing straight through me. “You’ve got a team to fix. And you should talk to your agent. I can handle myself.”
Dread roars through me. Does she want to cool it? I’m not sure I can even say those words. “What do you mean?” I ask, and there’s horror in my voice.
Her gaze flickers. “Miles, your career was perfect before this. You’ve worked too hard to let me mess it up. Everything I planned is spiraling out of control, and I won’t drag you down with me.” She looks at the time on her phone. “And if you’re not on the bus going to the airport, they will trade you for sure.”
My gut twists. I want to argue, but I can’t push her. Not now. And the fact is, she’s right. I’ve got to get my ass on that bus. Plus, she has her meeting with Melissa tomorrow. She has her dad to face. Me? I’ve got this epic failure of leadership to answer for.
But as I watch her retreat behind her walls, something cracks inside me too.
49
THE BAMBOO BIKE MAKERS STRIKE AGAIN
Leighton
“I feel we should tell her,” Indigo says.
I privately groan as I walk through the doorway of the bedroom and into the living room, the early morning sun spilling through the window.
“I feel it’s a mistake,” Ezra says.
They must be really used to not having me around if they’re speaking like this with me here. But they both turn at the same time as I trudge to the kitchen in my old apartment turned temporary refuge from my own bad decisions. From the mess I made of my life. I didn’t have the heart to go to Miles’s home last night. It felt wrong. Presumptuous, even. So I came here. Much to their surprise. And clearly, they’re not really accustomed to me being here anymore. It makes sense. It’s been close to a month since I’ve stayed, and I’ve only returned a few times to grab clothes.
Indigo meets my gaze and gasps, her braid whipping around as she turns and faces me. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were up.”
Ezra winces, dips his head, his man bun bobbing with him. “Oops.” When he looks up again, he turns to her and says, “I told you so.”
These two haven’t changed one bit. “So tell me what?”
Indigo twists her fingers together, looks at Ezra with I’m sorry written in her eyes, and says to me, “I feel you should know we’ve been performing fellatio and cunnilingus in your bedroom.”