Catching the Player (A Hamilton Family 3)

A complete, utter, embarrassing, awful disaster.

First, her ex had decided to stop in and make a passionate plea about how much he regretted walking away from her, and how he’d written her a note, and how she had to read it. She had. It hadn’t changed her opinion about him being an asshole for leaving her. The only reason he was coming around again was because big-boobed Becky had left him.

So, he’d come running back to her, expecting her to be waiting for him.

She wasn’t.

Then, as if that hadn’t been bad enough, Caleb had crashed her and Wyatt’s make-out session and probably scared her secret lover off for good. Why would he stick around for some “fun” with her after dealing with a stupidly overprotective brother who threatened to kill him?

It was over, and Caleb had been the impetus behind the ending, so she’d ignored every phone call, knock on the door, and text she’d gotten from him. She had nothing to say to anyone…

Except maybe Wyatt.

But he hadn’t called or texted once.

It was well after midnight, and she’d been wallowing in self-pity and anger all day, but now that she was crawling into bed alone, she was losing the anger and going deeper into the self-pity party. Being with Wyatt had been incredible. Losing him? A little less so.

Still, it had been bound to happen eventually.

Might as well be now.

Rolling over, she sighed and checked her phone for the millionth time. There was still nothing from Wyatt. His silence spoke louder than any words could.

After putting it on do not disturb so she could sleep, she set it down, closed her eyes, and tried to shut off her mind. She’d almost succeeded when something hit her bedroom window, jerking her out of her almost slumber. “What the—?”

Something hit the glass again, and she stood, creeping toward it, heart racing. Slowly, hesitantly, she pushed the curtains back…and couldn’t believe her eyes. She pushed the window open and called out, “Did you seriously throw pebbles at my window?”

“Yes. Did I wake you up?” Wyatt asked, still holding a pile of rocks in his hands.

“Yes,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. It was chilly outside.

“I’m not sorry.”

She snorted. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

In other words, he’d come here to break it off officially. Regret had probably hit him, and he didn’t want to upset her, so he’d come to tell her in person. “We don’t, really.”

“Yes, we do.” He replaced the rocks he’d taken out of her flower bed and stepped back, craning his neck. “I’m always begging you to let me in your house, but that won’t stop me from doing it again. Can I please come in, Kass?”

“I don’t see the point.” She rubbed the goose bumps off her arms. “I mean, if you’re here to tell me we’re done, I kind of already figured that out for myself, so there’s nothing to say—”

“Kass.”

She sucked in a breath. “What?”

“Let me in.”

For a second, she didn’t move.

Letting him in was a horrible idea. If she did that, there would be nothing to hold on to anymore. If she let him in, and he officially ended it like she figured he would, there would be no room left for hope anymore. Once he said the words, she’d only see him on TV from now on. She wasn’t ready for that yet.

Then again, she didn’t think she ever would be.

She closed the window and made her way downstairs. When she opened the door, he stood there, wearing his usual post-practice clothes. His face was shadowed, and he had bags under his eyes. The second they locked eyes, he closed the distance between them, pulled her into his arms, and hugged her. “I’m sorry.”

She closed her eyes, enjoying his arms around her again. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. If anything, I’m the one who should apologize.”