Johnny Deeper: A Sports Romance (47 page)

I move with shaking knees and sit down on the edge of my bed. “Why are you going through my things?” I ask again.

“It’s my house. They’re my things,” he says, flicking his wrist to toss the test into the trash can beside his foot. “How far along are you?”

“Dad, please…” I pull my eyes away from the trash. “I don’t feel comfortable talking to you about—”

“I don’t care how comfortable you feel. I’m your father and—”

“Since
when
?”

“I am your father and you will answer my questions,” he continues. “How far along are you?”

A rock builds in my throat, latching on so tightly that I can’t force it down. “I’m not sure,” I answer. “Two months or so…?”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Who’s the father?”

I press my lips together. “Dad, please…”

“Eliza,” he growls, “if you say you don’t know, I swear…”

“No, I
know
who the father is, I just…”

“Then who is it?”

I look at the floor. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. I should have told Junior when I found out.
God, how could I be so stupid to—

“Eliza.”

I flinch at his tone, digging my nails into the bed beneath me. “Junior Morgan.”

His silence turns the room ice cold. I keep my head down, physically unable to move. My eyes lock on a spot in the carpet; the smallest bit of meaningless discoloration.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The disappointment in his voice cuts deep. “Does he know?”

“No,” I answer. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Good. Don’t.”

I snap up. “What?”

“Don’t say a word to him about it,” he tells me. “On Monday, you and I will go upstate and have it taken care of.”

My fists tighten. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“You
really
don’t have a say in that at all.”

“I don’t?” he asks. “I get to pay for your school, give you a home, money, clothing, but I don’t have a say in how you conduct yourself?”

“Not with this.”

“We had a deal, Eliza. I’d say I’ve more than held up my end of it. You sneaking around behind my back, whoring yourself out to my football players wasn’t part of that deal.”

“I did not
whore
myself—”

“That’s what they’ll say,” he interrupts. “
Like Daddy, Like Daughter.”
He shakes his head. “I brought you out here to give us both a fresh start. A new image. Think about what this will do to that life — but, more importantly, what it’ll do to Junior’s life.”

I close my eyes and the tears fall down. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You don’t give a shit about me. It’s about him and your little coaching project.”

“With my help, Junior will go straight to the top just like I did,” he argues. “Don’t you want that for him? If you have this baby now, you’ll rob him of that and he’ll resent you for it.”

I force the sob down. “You know what, Dad? You’re right. Maybe he is just like you. Maybe I
should
spare this child a lifetime of missed birthdays and broken promises.”

“That’s enough.”

“No.” I stand up, ignoring my shaking legs. “I’m not finished yet. The truth is that you were a
terrible
father but Junior
isn’t like you
.”

“Yes, he is.” His lips twitch. “Don’t be naive, Eliza. Do you
really
think that he’s going to throw all of his dreams away… for
you
?”

The sob invades, triggering a truth that I can’t ignore. “I love him,” I whisper at the floor, trying to convince myself more than anybody how much that matters.

“That fades,” he says, calm and cold. “That’s a fact. A man isn’t remembered for the women he loved. He’s remembered for the victories he earned and the legacy he leaves behind. That doesn’t include you.” He turns away and grips the doorknob. “Monday morning. Pack a bag. You’ll be gone for a few days.”

I collapse before the door even closes, sinking hard onto the bed and crying until my entire body turns numb.

Chapter 27

Junior

I pull out my phone to check the time again. It’s four thirty-five. I have to be at the stadium in about twenty minutes to get ready for the game but Eliza was supposed to meet me here in the study room at four.

Where are you?

I send the text but I don’t expect a reply. She hasn’t replied to the last three I sent her since I got here.

There was something wrong last night, I just knew it. I could feel it in my gut all night long but I didn’t do a damn thing about it. And now she’s gone, ignoring my texts and I can’t think of a damn reason why.

I grab my jacket and rush down the stairs to the ground floor.

Eliza has a show tonight so she should be heading to Talon Hall now, if she’s not there already. I push through the crowds of gathering students and sports fans as I cross campus, all of them heading towards the stadium to witness the final game of the season — the one that determines our status in the regional championship, which was the other thing that kept me awake all night. I honestly don’t care much about that right now.

I have to find Eliza first.

I reach the quad with long, eager strides but I grind to a halt the second I see her just outside of Talon Hall.

“Ellie!”

She doesn’t acknowledge it but I know she’s well within earshot distance. Even her pace quickens — like she’s purposefully trying to outrun me. She grabs the door handle and throws it open, rushing inside and leaving me behind.

“Eliza!”
I follow her in and rush across the lobby to cut her off. “Hey, wait a second…”

She halts with her head down, barely even glancing up at me. “Hey, Junior.”

I stare into her pale face, catching all the emotion as it bleeds from her ice-blue eyes. “Ellie, what’s going on? Why didn’t you meet me?”

She blinks and twitches around, glancing at any and everything other than me. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“You
forgot
?”

“Look, Junior, I really need to get backstage—”

I grab her arms to keep her in front of me. “Ellie,
stop.
” She deflates, heaving out the last of her breath. “I need to know what’s going on with you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Junior, please—”

“Ellie,
look at me.
”

She finally looks up, making eye contact for one fleeting, painful second. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore, Junior.”

Every muscle in my body flexes but it’s not enough to stop the deep, piercing pain in my chest.

“Why?”

Eliza closes her eyes. “I… just think it’s time,” she says. “I mean, we always knew it’d end eventually, right?”

I shake my head. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened—”

“Ellie—”

She takes a quick step away, knocking my hands off her arms. “Junior, we both have a lot on our minds right now. You have your game and I have my show, so can we just focus on those right now, please?”

She dodges around me before I can even respond, taking off towards the auditorium like a damn bullet.

“Ellie, what did I do?”

Her pace slows and she turns back for a second. “Nothing,” she answers, her eyes still locked to the floor between us. “Bye, Junior.”

I let her leave, keeping my eyes on her until she disappears behind the large double doors.

What did I do?

It had to be something I did, right? Girls don’t just break-up with you for no reason. There’s
always
a reason — something concrete that you can look back on that pinpoints the exact moment when things went wrong. An emotional linchpin that brings everything down.

Or maybe I’m not the one who pulled it at all.

Being with Eliza Pierce was always a risk and that risk had a face.

Cary Pierce.

I spin towards the exit as Grant steps into the lobby. “Grant!”

He glances up from the floor, his entire body weighed down with nerves. “Oh, hey, Lover Boy.”

“Have you talked to Eliza today?”

“No,” he says. “Not since dress rehearsal yesterday. Why?”

“There’s something wrong with her.”

He stands up a little taller. “How so?”

“She’s… distant. She won’t talk to me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her,” he chuckles. “It’s
opening night
. You’re lucky I’m even forming complete sentences right now.”

“No, this is different. She just broke up with me.”

He pauses. “Okay, yeah, that’s weird.”

“I need you to go in there and ask her what happened, then text me what she says.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Grant, come on,” I argue. “This is important.”

“So is
this
,” he says. “I don’t expect a big jock like you to understand but what you’re asking of me is in direct violation of the code of friendship. If I did that, it’d be a serious breach of trust. I will not, under any circumstances—”

“I’ll let you borrow the Junior-mobile for a night.”

His brows twitch.
“A weekend,”
he counters. “
Next
weekend. Ty and I have plans.”

I nod. “It’s all yours.”

“Deal. Give me ten minutes.”

“Thank you.”

Grant heads for the auditorium and I pull my phone out of my pocket. It’s almost five now. I want to stay here and get to the bottom of this but I can’t exactly skip out on the game either.

I leave for the stadium, keeping my head down to avoid the constant cries of people screaming my name. Usually, this turns me on like nothing else. I used to make sure they noticed me but right now, there’s a not a damn thing that will stop me from getting to the locker room and out of sight.

What happened, Ellie?

Chapter 28

Eliza

My reflection stares back at me and no matter how much I try, I can’t wipe that judgmental gaze out of my eyes.

I focus on what I can control and that’s the show. I grab my make-up foundation and smear a thin layer on my skin. I draw thick lines around my eyes with black liner to make them pop under the stage lights. I swallow the lump down my throat to keep from crying and try not to think about how I just turned my back on the only love I’ve ever known.

Grant sits down on the edge of the vanity table. “Lover Boy wants to know what’s wrong with you.”

I sigh. “You talked to him?”

“He accosted me in the lobby. I feared for my life,” he jokes, laying a hand on his heart. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I say, grabbing the lipstick from my make-up bag.

Grant snatches it from my hand and slides the bag away from me. “What’s wrong?” he asks again.

“Grant, we need to get ready.”

“We’ll get ready after. What happened?”

I take a deep breath but it doesn’t help. “Dad found out about us.”

He gives a slow nod. “How did he find out?”

“He found…” I hesitate. “He just found out.”

“Did you tell Junior?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I heave an impatient breath.
“Grant…”

“He said you broke up with him.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because we can’t be together,” I answer. “We never should have been in the first place.”

Grant shakes his head. “Why are you letting this tear you apart? What aren’t you telling me?”

A fresh wave of nausea plagues me. I’ve felt it since last night; a slow burn inside that never quite seems to go away no matter what I do.

“Junior will never choose me,” I mutter.

“Choose you?” he repeats. “Over what?”

“Over football. Over everything — the fame, money. All of it.”

“That’s
crap
,” Grant spits.

“Is it?” I ask. “My dad chose it over me before. What makes Junior any different?”

“The difference is that Junior
loves
you.”