The Heartbreaker

“Thank you, sir.” I smile.

“This bar was rooting for you, everyone hollerin’. I wish you could have seen us.”

“I appreciate that. It was definitely a good game to kick off the season with.”

“You keep playing like that. Keep up the good work.” He winks and walks away.

“You’re famous,” Colson says, showing me his phone. “You’re all over Bleacher Report and ESPN right now.”

“You’re going to go pro,” Finn adds. “I mean, most definitely going pro.”

“No shit he’s going pro,” Mav says, pride filling his voice. “Wait till the season is over and the agents start calling.”

On that note, my gaze swings back to Jo and Lawrence. I can’t see much from here, but I do see his hand on hers and it makes my blood boil. Is she thinking about taking him back? After everything? What would I do if she did? I’d have to move out. No question about it. They stand up and walk toward the back exit together, his hand on her shoulder. I ball my fists and stand up, but before I can take a step in that direction, Mav is in front of me, pressing a hand on my chest.

“Let her go.” His voice is low, but clear, and I’m forced to look into his dark brown eyes. “Let it go, Jag. She’s choosing to go with him. If she didn’t want to, she’d tell him to fuck off and leave.”

I swallow. It feels like there’s a brick in my throat, but I try to focus on regaining control of myself.

“This is your last season. You can’t risk it because of an asshole like Lawrence.”

I shut my eyes briefly. I would risk it for her, but my brother’s right, if she didn’t want to leave with him, she wouldn’t have. If she minded him touching her, she’d say so. I think that’s what kills me the most. After everything, she’d still choose him.

“Why don’t you stay at my place?” Mav asks. “That way you can both have some space.”

I nod, still not trusting myself to speak. Then, I get shit-faced. Then, I let my brother drive me to Jordan’s party and that’s the last thing I remember about that night.

Chapter Thirty-One

Jo

I’m laughing at Marissa’s portrayal of the latest Grey’s Anatomy episode when Misty walks into the bar, stomping over like a woman on a mission.

“What happened to you?” I turn to her. Marissa does as well. Misty is seething.

“Did you see the video of Jagger?” Misty asks.

“On ESPN? Yeah,” I breathe out. “It was beyond impressive, honestly. Why?”

“I’m not talking about ESPN.” She rounds the bar and stands beside us, practically shoving her phone in my face. “This.”

I take the phone and look at the paused video on the screen of her phone. I click play and see it come to life, loud music, dim lights, a girl straddling a guy on a couch. She’s dancing to the music, but they’re clearly making out, his hands gripping her ass. My pulse starts to quicken, then slow way down, as if time itself may pause just for this feeling to fully envelop me. The person holding the cell phone moves to the side and starts saying Jagger’s name. The woman on top of him pulls away slightly and sticks her tongue out to the camera. Jagger also looks, no smile, no laugh, just looks straight into the camera. He looks beyond drunk. I’ve never seen him that way. My stomach squeezes. I set my hands over it suddenly regretting the greasy breakfast I had this morning. I’m going to be sick. I won’t throw up. I know myself, but still, the feeling sits in my stomach.

“This was last night?” I whisper.

“Jordan’s party.”

“Were you there?” I look at my sister. She nods, her eyes filled with pain, but not nearly as much as what I’m feeling.

“Wow,” I whisper, walking away to hold on to the counter. “Just. Wow.”

“I’m sorry,” Misty says. “I know you said casual, but, still, I’m sorry.”

“Did he . . . did they . . . ”

“I don’t know.” Misty bites her lip. “They went upstairs together shortly after I saw them.”

“God.” Tears burn my eyes, and even though I want to be the bigger person and not cry over this, I can’t help it. It hurts so much.

“Did you break it off with him?” Marissa asks softly, standing beside me on one side as my sister stands on the other.

“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, we haven’t hooked up since last weekend, but he’s been busy and I’ve been . . . I was just . . . I don’t know.” The tears start falling. My sister hugs me with one arm.

“I’m so sorry, Jo.”

“Why does this keep happening?” I whisper. “What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing.” She pulls away and holds my arms. “Nothing is wrong with you. They’re the ones losing out here. Look at me, Josephine.” I lift my head up and look at my sister through blurry eyes. “His fuckup has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and his own insecurities. Do you understand that?”