One Week Girlfriend (Drew + Fable #1)(39)

“Right, you just so happen to forget to mention you have a dead three year old sister who died here almost two years ago to the day. I mean, no wonder you don’t want to come back to this place, Drew. I wouldn’t want to either. I’m sure your house is chock full of horrendous memories you don’t want to face.”

“You’re damn right.” She’s distracting me and I’m getting angrier because of it. We are not going to discuss my sister any further. “Who’s the guy, Fable?”

She shakes her head. “No one.”

“Who’s. The. Guy?” I bite each word out, so freaking tired of her bullshit.

“What? Are you jealous?”

“Fuck yes, I am!” I roar, unable to stop the words from spilling out. “After everything we’ve shared, especially after yesterday, you have the nerve to ask if I’m jealous? Of course, I am. This isn’t a game to me, Fable. This is my life. And I want you to be a part of it. But if you’d rather f**k around with other guys, then I can’t deal with that. I want you and you only. I’m not sharing you with anyone else.”

My breathing’s ragged by the time I’m finished with my speech and I can’t believe what I just said to her. She’s staring at me like I’m crazy and maybe I am, but I can’t hold back with her. For whatever reason, she makes me want to confess everything.

Every f**king thing, the good and the bad.

“Me and you, we’re pretending,” she whispers. There are tears in her eyes and one slips down her cheek. I want to stop it with my thumb, I want to kiss the tear away, but I don’t. I can’t, not after what she’s said. “This isn’t real. You’re getting caught up in nothing.”

“That’s not true,” I start but she shuts me up, pressing her fingers against my mouth for the briefest moment before she drops her hand.

“It is. You don’t want me, not really. I’m not who you think I am. And you’re definitely not who I think you are. There are so many secrets and problems between us, I think our life would be one f**ked up mess after another if we were to really try and be together. And that’s never going to happen, you know this.”

I can’t say anything. I know she’s right, no matter how badly I don’t want her to be. I’m wishing on nothing right now. And my heart is breaking for it.

“Two more days, Drew.” She pauses, chewing on her lower lip. “Unless you want me to leave tonight like Adele said. She has something planned, about the anniversary of your sister’s death. And clearly I’m not invited.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” I say automatically. “Two more days, I need that from you.”

“Fine.” She nods once, her lips thin, her eyes imploring.

She wants to say something more, I can tell, but Adele throws open the front door, announcing, “Dinner’s ready!” all cheery-like and it’s such bullshit I throw her a hard stare over my shoulder, earning a slammed door for my efforts.

“We should go in,” Fable says, wrapping her arms around herself as she starts for the front door.

I follow her, only realizing later I never found out if there really was another guy or not.

~* Chapter Eleven *~

Day 6 (Black Friday), 8:00 a.m.

What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Drew

Yesterday’s Thanksgiving dinner was a disaster, not that I expected it to be anything less. Dad invited a few business associates, and while they talked Wall Street and the state of the economy at one end of the table, we were pretty much silent at the other end. Fable sat across from me, stubbornly quiet as she picked at her plate full of catered food.

Adele doesn’t cook and she sure as hell wasn’t going to prepare a Thanksgiving meal. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a home cooked turkey since the last time we spent the holidays with my grandparents in New York, and that was years ago.

The hostility in the house had been off the charts. Adele tried her damnedest to talk to me and I refused. The taxi had shown up to cart Fable away just as promised later that evening and I sent the guy away, shoving two twenties in his hand as payment for his trouble.

Not once did Fable speak to me. The moment she could make her escape, she was gone, heading back to the guesthouse without a goodbye to anyone and locking herself away in her room. She didn’t come out for the rest of the night.

So I did the same, pissed at myself that I let her get under my skin. I didn’t sleep much, hadn’t really slept much the night before either, and now I’m lurking outside Fable’s closed door, tempted to bust in there and make her talk to me.

This is definitely not like me. I’m not confrontational. I hate facing my feelings. But damn it, that fight between us yesterday left me raw and hurting. I feel like a pu**y for even thinking this, but I thought what we had was turning into something special.

Guess I was wrong.

But see, this is where my stubbornness kicks in for once in my personal life. I don’t want to be wrong. I don’t think I am wrong. For whatever reason, she’s running scared. I can’t blame her. I do the same damn thing, day in and day out. The only time I feel completely in control of my life is out on the football field. Being trapped here for the last few days, I’m jonesing to get back to it. Get my head out of the bullshit and back into the game.