Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

“Intimidated?” I feel a rush of anger. “But that’s not fair. I am who I am. I work really hard for the things and people I love. I thought he loved them too. Or at least loved the fact that I was ambitious and ballsy enough to go after what I wanted.”

“He does love that about you,” Eli adds quickly. “Said point blank he loved how accomplished you were. But clearly that’s a double-edged sword for him. He thinks you’re so successful he don’t deserve you.”

Another rush of anger. This one mingled with a deep, searing sadness.

“I decide what I deserve.”

“I told him as much.”

“If he thinks that—” I take a breath. If that’s what he thinks, how the hell do I convince him otherwise?

I know Luke. He’s not one to play games. He wouldn’t have done what he did if he wasn’t one hundred percent convinced it was the right thing to do.

One of the things I adore most about him is that he knows what he wants.

He wanted me.

Over the course of the past couple weeks, I never had to guess how he was feeling. I never had to wonder if he liked me enough, thought I was sexy enough. Where things were going, or if he’d stick around.

His certainty made me feel certain.

And then he goes and pulls the rug out from under me.

“What do you think?” Olivia asks gently.

My face crumples. I put my hand over my eyes, clutching my temples between my thumb and middle finger as a wave of anguish moves through me.

“I think I’m in love with him, and now I don’t know what to do. He was so good to me, you guys. The best. I don’t get why he walked out on me like that.”

I hear Eli’s glass come down on the coffee table with a clap.

I drop my hand to see Olivia patting Eli’s knee. Calm down.

Doesn’t stop him from glowering.

“Luke thinks he’s being good to you by stepping aside,” Olivia says. “That way—in his mind, anyway—you’ll be free to end up with someone better. Because that’s what he thinks you deserve. Although I don’t know what he means by ‘better.’ He’s pretty damn wonderful if you ask me.”

“Exactly,” I reply, grabbing a tissue. “There’s no one better for me. I know that, and I thought he did, too. I mean, did I not make my feelings for him clear enough? Does he not know how much I fucking love him?”

Eli arches a brow. “Y’all tell each other yet? That you’re in love?”

I shake my head. “But I thought my feelings were obvious. I couldn’t hide them. Didn’t want to, especially when we were together. I gave him everything I had. I honestly feel like I left nothing on the table. But I guess—” I shake my head again. Another round of tears. “I guess it wasn’t enough.”

Eli loops an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him. I fall easily into the crook of his arm. Thankfully he’s wearing a shirt today—most days he doesn’t.

“It’s gonna be okay, Gracie,” he says, running his palm up and down my arm. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll go talk to him. Have him tell me what the hell—”

“Please.” I tilt my head back to look Eli in the eye. “Please don’t hurt him, Elijah. As much as this sucks, I do believe he’s trying to do the right thing.”

My brother squeezes my shoulder. “I ain’t gonna hurt Luke, Gracie. But I am gonna give him a piece of my mind. ’Cause he showed his ass last night, and caused my baby sister some real grief in the process. Just need to talk some sense into him is all. Mark my words, we’ll have this resolved by dinnertime.”

I manage a small smile. I want to believe Eli. I would gladly forfeit a vital organ to sit down to dinner with Luke tonight, the two of us laughing about what a classic rom-com mix-up the past twenty-four hours have been.

But in my head I keep seeing that look in his eyes. The belief, the certainty. Not that we were gonna work out.

But that we weren’t.

Luke believes that. Fervently. And even Elijah, in all his southern silver-tongued glory, is going to have to put up one hell of a fight to get Luke to change his mind.

I feel like a shithead for putting my brother in that position.

“I’m really sorry,” I said, glancing at Eli. “I know I said I could handle this. Keep my feelings in check. If I had known—I would have never even broached the subject with Luke. I’m sorry, Eli. I know this sucks for you.”

He brushes away a tear with the pad of his first finger. “Sucks worse for you. I ain’t gonna stand on the sidelines watchin’ you hurt like this. If I can help, I will. I said all along that I just wanna see y’all happy.”