Briggs (Carolina Reapers 7)

But it was hours too late.

Guilt gnawed at my insides, enough to turn my stomach.

And when Cormac shifted on the couch once the game was over? Silently turning off the TV and stomping out of the room?

I was certain I’d puke on the floor.

The Reapers had lost.

And I didn’t have a clue what to say to Cormac.

A few hours later, I managed to cook us a late meal, setting it on the table and calling, “Food is ready.” Angela had already raided the kitchen for sandwich stuff and taking her haul to the other wing of the cabin, flashing me a sympathetic look as she left.

Cormac had avoided me since the game, and the silence was killing me. Eating at those bright spots that had filled my soul just last night. How could things have gotten so messed up in such a short time?

He came out of the bedroom, settling in the chair across from me at the table. Scooping up his fork, he ate the pasta without a word.

I managed to swallow a few bites before my entire body felt on the brink of collapse.

“Cormac,” I said, my voice soft. “I’m really sorry—”

“Don’t.” He didn’t even look up from his plate, and the iciness in his tone? It sliced straight through my chest.

“That’s not fair,” I said. “I checked the weather twice before we came here. No one predicted these winds, the storm, or the bridge being taken out. I would never have begged you to stay if I would’ve known—”

“Sure you would’ve,” he cut me off, setting down his fork to finally look at me. I flinched from the hardness in his eyes. “This photoshoot made your line. You would sacrifice anything for your business, to get what you want, including my career.”

I gaped at him, tears welling in my eyes. “That’s not even close to true,” I snapped. “And your career isn’t in jeopardy.” He’d called his coach and explained the situation. And yes, he would be fined, which I already offered to pay, but he wasn’t going to be kicked off the team for an unavoidable mistake.

“It is though,” he snapped right back. He shook his head, pushing back from the table. Dinner was clearly over. “Ever since you came back into my life, everything has been at risk!”

I mimicked his motions, following behind him as he made his way to the living room. “You’re joking right?” I asked, really fuming now. “You’re going to stand there and act like me coming into your life has been a bad thing?”

He whirled around. “Yes!”

I stumbled back a step, my heart cracking. I swallowed around the knot in my throat.

“I never should’ve done this,” he said, motioning to the cabin we stood in. “I’ve never should’ve stayed. I should’ve left the night before like I’d planned. I never would’ve missed a game. They needed me! Signing that contract was the biggest mistake of my life.”

My lips parted, a broken gasp slipping past them. Tears blurred my vision, but I tipped up my chin. “That contract has nothing to do with why you’re being an asshole right now.”

He narrowed his gaze.

“You are! Cormac, I said I was sorry. And I am. I wish I hadn’t asked you to stay. I wish I could go back and push you out of that tub and get you on the road. But I knew I wouldn’t see you for weeks and I love you so…God, I’m sorry. I can’t control the fucking weather, but you taking this out on me—”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you!” He cut me off.

A traitorous tear slipped down my cheek.

He raked his palms over his face. “I never should’ve started this relationship,” he said, shaking his head. “Long distance never works. I fucking said that—”

“This has nothing to do with distance!”

“Doesn’t it?” He fired back. “I stayed because I never get to see you! We’re miles away from where I’m supposed to be, Bristol,” he said, his voice cold. “Because of you and me. I let my team down. My family down.”

The knife kept slipping in and in until I could barely breathe. “You’re seriously blaming me for this?” I swiped at the angry tears rolling down my cheeks. “Isn’t that getting a little old, Cormac?” I snapped. “I am not to blame for every bad thing that happens in your life! I was not alone at that party. Or at Scythe. Or any other place we crashed together. I wasn’t alone when you told me you loved me! This isn’t all on me!”

He slid his hands into his pockets, his shoulders dropping. “You’re right,” he said, finally meeting my eyes. “This is on me. I made a mistake.”

I took another step backward, reaching for the wall at my back to steady me.

“You, me, we’ve always been a mistake.”