Playing to Win

“I’m so stupid.” Her red, watery eyes closed tight forcing tears down her cheeks.

“No. I know you and you aren’t stupid. Whatever it is-” I’d do anything to comfort her. Knowing I craved the connection and hoping she did, too, I kissed her softly. I should have kept it short but I didn’t. Couldn’t. For several moments we shared sweet, tender kisses.

Jordan pulled away first, but not before wiping her tears on my shirt. I had to smile at that but it was short lived.

“Let’s sit down.” Taking her hands in mine, I led her to the wrought iron love seat. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

She buried her face in her hands. “I feel so stupid.”

“Jordan, come on.” I pulled her hands down. “What happened?”

“I was talking to Kelly.”

I knew it had to do with her friends! But what?

“And?”

Jordan swallowed and she had a hard time meeting my eyes. “Kelly said she’s seen you.”

“Okay?” I saw Kelly every day. We had a couple of classes together. Not to mention the times I saw her when we were both with Jordan.

“She said she’s seen you with other girls.”

Whoa.

What?

I felt as though I’d been kicked in the gut.

I shook my head. “Jordan, no. Are you kidding?” I could just shake Kelly for trying to come between us like this. “I haven’t even looked at another girl since the first day of school when you yelled at me for parking in your spot.”

Jordan pushed herself out of my grasp, but she didn’t get up. I let my hands fall into my lap and ordered them not to touch her until I knew without a doubt she wanted them to.

“Kelly said girls hang all over you and flirt with you all the time and I never see it because we don’t have any classes together.”

Oh.

My damned cheeks flushed. Of course she noticed.

“It’s true!” Jordan jumped to her feet.

I hurried to join her. “No! At least, not the way Kelly presented it.” I covered my face with my hand. “Girls like me. Or they like the way I look. I never encourage any of them, but it’s true, they always try to hang around me. Short of being a complete jerk to everyone I meet, what am I supposed to do?”

Jordan slammed her hands onto her hips. “Um, you could start by telling them you have a girlfriend?”

“You think I don’t do that? I’d announce it over the PA system if I thought it would help.” Gah, that made me sound so arrogant.

“Right. I bet it really bothers you to have girls falling at your feet. Just like at the concert.” Jordan’s accusation stung.

I thought about all the girls who flirted with me at school and the times I’d caught Ms. Jackson blushing around me. She wasn’t the only one. I’d been approached by perfect strangers. Propositioned. Handed business cards by talent agents looking for models. I even had an ex-girlfriend back in Minnesota whose mom came onto me more than once.

This wasn’t new. It likely wouldn’t get any better. Especially, if I had my way and made something of myself with my music. I’d seen it earlier that night. People who’d been milling around talking or shopping at the vendor tables stopped to listen to Breakout. By the time we’d finished our set, we’d drawn the biggest crowd of the day according to the event organizer who’d informed us as soon as we exited the stage.

A million different thoughts ran through my mind as I stared at her. All my life I’d been struggling for acceptance. Not because of my mom and her fame. Not because of my appearance or my talent. Not because of my abilities on the ice.

Because of me.

Asher.

I had the same insecurities as anyone.

I’d been objectified. Used. Discarded by my own mother. Manipulated by my father. And now Jordan wanted to accuse me of being what? Kind?

So, I smiled at the girls who listened to my music. I didn’t act like a jerk at school to my peers. I tried to be a good son and brother. I’d even been a friend to her brother!

If that made me a horrible boyfriend. Well, then I was a horrible boyfriend.

“I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me, Jordan.” My heart hurt. But I wouldn’t beg.