Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(97)

She’s quiet, making me nervous.

“I’ve got to be honest,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I don’t think it’s a good idea we do it again. Not right away. After your reaction…”

She physically cringes.

“And I don’t want you to apologize for that. But I do want you to try doing something about it. If I can’t help you, somebody out there can. A therapist. Olive. If you’re not comfortable telling me what happened, then you need to open up to somebody you feel comfortable with.”

“I do feel comfortable with you—”

“Not completely,” I disagree, almost grimly. My lips press together. “Skylar, there are some things distractions can’t fix. I’ll happily make more memories with you, but the old ones you have—the ones you’re running from—will still be there.”

She’s silent.

“I want you to be happy. Happy here at Lindon. Happy with me.”

“I am,” she whispers.

Why do I doubt that? “Happiness can be temporary sometimes,” I murmur.

Her body freezes. “What does that mean?”

What does it mean? I take a few minutes to think about it, not wanting to botch this like I have other conversations with Skylar. “It means that I want this to be real with us. I want you to be real with me. No dodging subjects or changing the conversation when it gets hard. I never want to force you to tell me anything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

“You said no pressure—”

“I know.” I sigh heavily. “I know I did.”

“You lied then.”

“Blondie—”

“Don’t ‘Blondie’ me, Danny. Do you think any of this is easy for me? Why can’t I just move on? Why do you want me to talk about it? To remember?”

“Because it’ll help,” I say quickly, glancing at her cool expression. She’s angry. I get it. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m trying to understand. To help—”

“You can’t.”

My jaw ticks as I twist my palms around the steering wheel in a tight grip. “That’s because you don’t want any help. But guess what, Skylar? You need it.”

Once again, silence greets me.

When I look back over at her, she’s staring out the window and ignoring me.

I shake my head. “Don’t shut me out. That’s what I’m asking of you.”

There’s a brief pause. “Maybe you’re right,” she mumbles.

My brows go up.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

Fuck.



After dropping off Skylar, I head back to the house and walk into a room full of tension. Caleb’s leg bounces from his seat in the living room, and Brady’s face is twisted with the same nerves I saw on it when he was waiting for his MCAT results. Aiden, on the other hand, is fuming.

“Who pissed off Griff?” I ask, looking between the various guys lounging around.

They all turn to me as I lock the front door behind me and drop my bag onto the hall floor.

All Caleb’s text said was Shit going down with W.

W. Wallace. It’s not like I’m surprised to hear that, but I think I might have underestimated what exactly he did to make our tight end look so murderous.

Its Marks, sulking in the corner like someone took away his favorite video game console, who speaks up. “Coach called an emergency team meeting this morning.”

My eyes widen. “What the fuck? I never got a text.”

“You were driving,” Caleb points out in a somber tone that builds the uneasy anticipation building in the room. The fact that Raine and Ivy aren’t here for this conversation tells me that something serious is up.

“What the hell did he want?” I pull out my phone wondering if I missed any voicemails from Pearce. Just because I’m injured doesn’t make me any less part of the team.

Aiden swipes at his jaw before one of his massive hands goes to grip the back of his neck. “Coach was contacted by the campus police about Wallace. Allegations have been made against him that he’s being investigated for. We’re all going to be questioned.”

My brows shoot up. Jesus Christ. “Care to elaborate on that?”

Caleb shifts in his spot, crossing his arms over his chest and blowing out a heavy breath. “It isn’t good, that’s for damn sure.”

Most things involving the campus police aren’t, even if most students laugh off the uniformed officers that ride around handing out parking tickets. But after my chat with Skylar about Wallace, this isn’t something any of us should be brushing off.

Aiden drops down in the armchair, shaking his head. “He’s being investigated for drugging girls’ drinks at parties. We’re supposed to talk to the head of the campus police to tell them if we’ve ever witnessed anything. I guess a few people have filed reports. There’s one girl who’s claiming he did more than drug her…” My teeth clench so tightly there’s probably permanent damage. “I don’t get what the fuck he was thinking. He’s always talking shit about those parties. Anybody can link him to those allegations even if they aren’t true.”

“Who says they’re not?” Caleb asks.