The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(92)

“Troy, I can’t hear this. Okay? I can’t. I took the keys. I will never keep you from your son. I don’t ever want him to be without you. I’ve given you what you’ve asked for, but I can’t hear this.”

“I watched him kiss you,” he grits out. “There’s a whole lot I can handle, but that’s not it.”

“What you saw was a lie. I did not kiss him back—”

“Do you hate me?” He asks, his eyes shining with regret.

“Do you hate me?” I rasp out, unable to keep the tears from falling.

He shakes his head, fisting his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I seem to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“I don’t think that way at all.”

His voice is distant, he’s not hearing me. Every part of me is helplessly flailing with the knowledge I pushed him away to the point he’s entertaining the idea of other women.

“I keep coming back here because this is where I want to be. I don’t want to be anywhere else. But I’m not the man for you.”

“You’re the only man for me,” I sniffle again, ducking my head to catch his gaze. “You are the only man for me. I’m in love with you, Troy. I love you.”

His eyes search mine for endless seconds, and for the first time since our conversation started, I feel his need to believe me. My hopes fall away when his blue gaze drops to the porch between us.

“I tell you I hit on another woman, and you tell me you love me.” He shakes his head, his eyes incredulous. “Can’t you see how fucked up we are?”

“Messy. That’s what we are, but messy together makes us perfect. You said that. I guess you forgot that part.”

“I don’t want to.”

He rakes a hand through his hair as I study him. I’ve never seen him so distraught.

“Troy, what happened tonight?”

“I did what I always do, I screwed things up by thinking I could mean more.”

“You mean a lot to plenty of people, including your son and me.”

He brings watery eyes to mine. “Hope so.”

“Please, you’re scaring the hell out of me. Tell me what—”

“I have to leave,” he says, his voice cracking as he wipes at his eyes furiously with the back of his hand. “I’m going to have to b-break a promise to Dante. I’m supposed to take him fishing tomorrow, but I have shit to figure out.”

“What do you mean, leave?”

“I’ve been kicked out.”

“Theo kicked you out?”

He nods. “I deserved it. Trust me.”

“What did you do?”

“It was his girlfriend.”

“What?”

“I hit on his girlfriend.” He shakes his head. “It was a misunderstanding, but no one will believe that. He sure as hell didn’t. To him, it’s just me being me, right? It should come as no surprise to anyone that this entitled jock tried to take what didn’t belong to him. Just Troy being Troy.”

“That’s not who you are at all.”

His eyes snap to mine. “You’re the only one who’s seen me, in years. You’re the only one who’s seen me, and you”—tears glide down his face—“you still couldn’t believe me. You’re the one person in the fucking world I needed to believe me.”

“Tell me what to say.” My heart is chipping away piece by piece, and I’m helpless to stop it. “Tell me what to say, what to do.”

He swallows. “I can’t do this anymore with you,” another tear glides down his cheek. “I can’t be here anymore. Just…don’t let my son think I left him. Promise me. I’ll apologize to him myself when I can do it without feeling like this.” He buries his face in his hands, his chest pumping with his silent cries. I’m ashes standing next to him, the unbearable ache to pull him into me making it impossible to breathe. “I just need to get myself t-together,” he cries hoarsely, his body shuddering. “I’m trying, Clarissa. I’m trying so f-f-fucking hard.”

“I know you are. Troy, I know,” unable to take another second, I move to embrace him, and he jerks his head, staring down at me with red-rimmed eyes.

“I love you so fucking much it hurts,” he says softly, “but that’s all it seems to do to me. You keep breaking my heart.” And that’s when my own heart stops. He grabs my hand, pulling my palm flat to his chest. “I would’ve given it all up for you. Everything, ball, everything, if you would have just given me all of you.”

Openly crying, we stare at the other, our hearts raw. I’ve never in my life loathed myself so much. It’s agony, the sight of him so openly broken, my doing and undoing.

“I hate myself for letting you down. I hate the mess I’ve made. Please don’t go. Stay here with us. We can fix this.” I cling to him, feeling him slip away by the second. Just as he tears himself from my grasp, lifting accusing eyes to mine.

“You know, it was Kevin’s needle,” he says, anger lacing his words as my jaw goes slack. “Apparently, he was experimenting and decided not to make a habit of it. Don’t worry, we had a fist to mouth conversation about it tonight after Theo made sure everyone at that party knew what a piece of shit I am.” He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle before his face turns solemn. “I don’t know if I can forgive him.” He drops his head. “Jesus, I feel like I’ve lost everyone.”