Page 62 of Relationship Goals

The guilt intensifies, my stomach churning.

I do want to see her. I love that she was here. I hate that the only reason she’s paying attention to me at all is because the goddamned owners wanted me to ask her out. The knowledge and guilt of it is a blister that only gets worse the longer it’s there.

And I can’t risk breaking it off with her, because my family needs me. I have to be released from my contract.

But I don’t want to hurt Abigail, either. I like her.

I’m so fucking fucked.

“Fuck!” I yell, slamming my hand into the locker room bench. The sound echoes off the metal lockers, and the door slowly swings open.

“Dude,” Tristan Gold says. “What the hell is wrong?”

“I fucked it all up. It’s all fucked up,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Is it your mom?” Tristan closes the door behind him, leaning on it, and I’m grateful for that, because as much as I don’t want to open up to him, I can’t help but let it all out.

“She’s still sick, but no. Yes. No and yes.”

He peers at me, confusion clear on his face. “Right.”

“They won’t release me from the reserve players list. I won’t get traded and can’t sign until they do.”

“Oh, shit,” he says, realization dawning on his face. “I didn’t even think about you going up there to play. What are you going to do?”

“Abigail,” I tell him miserably, scrubbing a hand down my face.

“You’re going to do…Abigail?” he repeats.

“I have to date her.”

“I’m really not following here.”

“The owners wanted me to ask her out. Get more fans here, increase sales, get people talking about the Aces again. They said if I did it, they’d take my name off the no-trade list.”

I close my eyes, pressing my palms against them like that will make this go away.

“I thought you really liked her.” The bench moves as Gold’s bulk settles beside me on the bench. “You should just tell her the truth.”

“That’s the problem. I do like her. A lot. Too much.” I shake my head, my voice hoarse.

“Oh. Shit. You don’t want to break things off with her.”

“I know I should,” I snarl, standing up, pacing around the room, feeling wild. “I know that’s the right thing to do.”

“No, I get it,” Tristan says, and his gaze goes far away. “When my mind’s made up on the girl, I’m the same way. All in.”

“All in,” I echo, then shake my head. It’s so fucking stupid. “You think I should tell her?”

“Yep,” Gold says, nodding at me, refocused. “Come clean.”

“You don’t think it will hurt her feelings?”

“It might, but it’s better than feeling like you do right now,” Gold says.

I don’t know if that’s true.

It’s never mattered what I’ve done, who I’ve tried to be. My own dad didn’t care enough to ever check in on who I am.