Sterling (Carolina Reapers 6)

I thought my heart couldn’t shatter any more, but it did.

Completely.

I sucked in a sharp breath, releasing Maxim’s hand. I pushed back from the table, nodding to my brother who looked like he wanted to follow me, but knew better than to do so. And there wasn’t any maliciousness in Maxim’s words—he wanted to help me be smart, to realize the truth behind what Jansen had done—but it still stung like hell.

Savannah met me by the door, a silent show of support as we headed to her car. She drove me back to my apartment and stayed with me the whole night. Distracting me with movies and junk food and drinks until I’d finally been able to ignore what haunted me.

The fact that I’d let Jansen all the way into my life, my heart, my soul, out of a place of pure love and desire.

But him?

He’d come to me out of a place of hatred.

And I didn’t have a clue how to recover from that.

17

Sterling

The air had the distinct chill of winter as Mom and I walked through Reaper Village the day after Christmas. One winter in Maine had taught me to never take the milder southern weather for granted ever again.

“Maybe I should’ve gotten you a puppy,” she said, her brow furrowed as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

“What?” I nearly laughed but didn’t. I wasn’t even sure I could laugh anymore. The world had taken on a dreary, gray overcast sky for the last two weeks. London hadn’t just taken her body from my bed or her heart from my hands—she’d packed up all the joy in life and walked away without a second look.

“You need something to come home to.” Mom looped her arm through my elbow. “Your house is beautiful, Jansen.” She glanced around us, taking in the quiet suburban neighborhood where the majority of my team lived. “All the houses here are beautiful. But there’s no life inside yours.”

“I’m gone too much to have a puppy,” I said, not even touching the rest of that statement. She knew what had happened between London and me.

“Fine. A Bearded Dragon, maybe?” She hip-checked me and smiled. “Or even a goldfish?”

A smile broke across my face.

“Ah, there it is.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “I’ve been waiting all week to see that smile. I was running out of ideas to get one out of you, but don’t worry, I’ll still make lasagna tonight. That was my last resort.”

“Food?” We crossed the street, and I switched sides with Mom so she didn’t walk next to the street. She was in her forties, and more beautiful than ever. I had Greg—my stepfather—to thank for that. Happiness looked good on her.

“It always comes down to food with you, Jansen Sterling.” She gave me a pointed look.

My smile slipped. “I’m not sure I can carb-load myself out of this one, Mom.”

She tugged on my elbow, stopping us in front of a house I knew all too well. “I’ve never known you to give up on something you wanted. Grades. Hockey. That Xbox you saved all summer for your sophomore year—you’ve never walked away from a little hard work.”

“Those were all attainable goals.” A muscle in my jaw popped as I struggled to breathe through the agony of losing London. It came in waves, some bigger than others, but the pain was always there, waiting to swallow me whole, especially at night. Fuck, I missed her at night, and not just for sex. I missed talking until we fell asleep. I missed hearing about her day and watching her scrunch her nose when something didn’t go right. I missed the feel of her body pressed up against mine, her breaths even and steady as she dreamed. I just fucking missed her.

“And you don’t think getting your girlfriend back is an attainable goal?” Mom cocked her head at me, narrowing her blue-gray eyes in my direction.

“I think there might just be too much damage, Mom.” I tugged my beanie hat over my ears. “She didn’t listen when I told her the truth. She chose to believe—” I snapped my mouth shut.

“Maxim,” Mom said gently. “You can say his name around me, Jansen. I won’t break.”

My stomach twisted even as my heart softened. There was no venom in her tone when she said his name. None of the animosity I felt toward him. She was so much kinder than I was.

“I hate him,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t sure that was true anymore, not after seeing Sergei get in his face after that game. Maxim hadn’t spoken to me since the incident in the hallway. Then again, neither had London.

Caz had stopped glaring at me last week, though, so there was some improvement.

“I know,” Mom said, squeezing my arm and nodding. Her complete and utter acceptance didn’t just crack my defenses—it shattered them.