The Hardest Fall(53)

I was too late to realize my last sentence would set him off again.

“You don’t owe him a single thing—not one thing, Zoe.”

“I know that, I guess, but still, I don’t want any strings. If he won’t tell Chris by January or February… Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Mark anymore. Dylan, on the other hand, I don’t want you to worry about. Yes, he is my roommate, but we barely see each other. Trust me, he is even busier than me”—which was a shame—“so you have nothing to worry about. You know I’d tell you if he was making me uncomfortable or if we were seeing each other. I always tell you stuff like that, you know that.”

“Would you? Because I’ve heard more than a few things you’ve been keeping from me in this phone conversation.”

Touché.

Change the subject, Zoe.

“Uh…what I was trying to tell you earlier…last night two of Dylan’s teammates came to the apartment. One of them was Chris, and I was there…and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even know where to put my hands. It was so awkward.”

“You could’ve told him.”

“Dad, I can’t just come out and tell him out of nowhere. Do you forget how I reacted? He’d think I was crazy, and what was I supposed to say, anyway? Oh, hello, I’m your long-lost sister you never knew you had. So, how have you been? Oh, also, the woman you know as your mom is actually not. Do you want to know about your real mother? Besides, I might have stared at him a little too much yesterday, so he might already think I’m missing a few screws.”

“If only your mom could’ve gotten in touch with him before she…then you wouldn’t have to go through all this. She wanted to see him so much.”

I could never tell him my mom was actually more excited about seeing Mark than anything else. She was hopeful, even.

I would never forget the day she told me Ronald Clarke wasn’t my real father. She’d broken my heart that day, and if my dad—because whatever she said, he’d always be my dad, because blood doesn’t make you family, not always—had been in the room with us, she’d have broken his heart too. Maybe she thought I’d be happy to hear that Mark had been the love of her life, and as good as Ronald had been to her, no one could take Mark’s place, the rush of their relationship. Maybe she thought that.

After getting to know the guy, I couldn’t have disagreed with her more.

There were a lot of things I was angry at my mom for, but it would hurt my dad if I voiced any of them. He loved her more than she loved either one of us.

I hated lying to him, but I couldn’t talk about her. “Dad, I have to go. I have a class in ten, and I need to go find Jared before that, so…”

“Okay. Now that I know all your secrets, promise me you’ll call more—and Zoe, no more secrets, okay?”

“Sure. I love you so much, Dad.”

His voice was rough when he replied. “I love you, too, baby.”





Chapter Twelve





Dylan





The bar was filled with college students who were out to celebrate the end of midterms. Some of those students were my teammates hell-bent on starting the bye week with a bang. A few of them rounded the pool tables, waiting for their turn, and a few of them were content with watching a heated game of beer pong between a few girls. Others were in front of the TVs watching a rerun of the previous week’s games. It felt like the whole team was there. A loud cheer would go off somewhere in the bar and before you could understand which corner it came from, the sound was swallowed up by the loud crowd and the music Jimmy blasted from every corner of the place.

Pulling the lever, I filled a pint and handed it to Chuck, one of the waiters.

“Thanks, man,” he yelled over the din before heading back out.

I tried to get in as many hours as humanly possible at Jimmy’s place without messing up my training schedule in the process, because bartending helped me pay for everything the football scholarship didn’t. Some nights I made enough that I could afford sending some of it back home, without my dad knowing about it, of course. The last thing he wanted was for me to worry about money problems.

Washing a shaker and the few glasses that were piling up behind the bar, I watched JP make his way over to me.

“When is your break again?” he asked, jumping onto a bar stool and eyeing Lindy, one of the other bartenders who was on with me that night.

“Missed me?”

Before he could answer, I made my way toward the two girls who had been waiting for me to come around.

“What can I get you, ladies?”

The blonde, who was wearing a low-cut red dress, leaned over the bar with a flirty smile, handing me the twenty that was tucked between two of her fingers. “Tequila shots, two rounds—and to chase those, I’ll take your number.”

I grinned and lined up their shots after checking their IDs. “Maybe next time.”

I ignored how the redhead looked at me intently as she licked the salt on the back of her hand and making an even bigger show out of sucking one of the lime wedges I’d provided. As soon as they were done with their first round, I filled their second and left them to it.

“Let me know if you need anything else.”