Page 89 of The Hardest Fall

The only upside of feeling frustrated to no end when living with the girl I thought should be with me and not some other bastard was that I worked harder than I ever had in my life. All my trainers were impressed. Chris and I were perfectly in sync out on the field, and I was giving it my all. The dream I’d had since I couldn’t even remember when was going to become a reality. I was going to make my family proud.

After a heavy workout session with one of the trainers who was helping me get ready for the combine coming up at the end of February, I headed home, hoping I’d get to see Zoe. I knew her schedule by heart, and if she hadn’t booked a photography job at the last minute, I knew she’d get home a little after me. Ever since the away game, she tried her best not to be alone with me for too long if she could help it, but we lived in the same damn apartment. She slept literally steps away from me, so there was only so much running away she could manage—not that I actually believed she was trying her best at it.

I considered stopping at her favorite pizza place to surprise her but changed my mind and decided to wait for her to come home then convince her to go out for pizza. In my mind, it sounded like a much better plan.

Only it wasn’t.

I realized that once I made it to our floor and found Vicky waiting for me in front of our apartment door.

Standing frozen at the top of the stairs, I thought I’d kill JP if he was the one who’d told her where to find me. Vicky’s head snapped up from her phone when she heard my footsteps and she pushed off of the wall.

“Dylan, I—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

She pushed her phone into her back pocket, took a step toward me, and then stopped.

“I want to talk to you, just this once. Please, Dylan.”

I got unstuck and walked past her to unlock the door.

“We have nothing to talk about. You shouldn’t have come here, Victoria.”

I looked over my shoulder and caught her subtle flinch at my use of her full name.

She raised her hands then dropped them to her sides. “Well, too bad. You’re not answering my texts or calls so I’m not moving an inch until you talk to me.”

As her voice started to rise steadily, my head flew toward Ms. Hilda’s door. Normally, the grumpy woman would’ve been out that door the second she caught someone coming up the stairs, without fail, but there was no sign of her at the moment, and I wondered if she was watching us through the peephole.

Ignoring Victoria, I opened the door and threw my bag inside before facing her again.

“I have no reason to return your calls, Victoria. It’s been months. There is nothing to say.”

Having said everything I would say on the subject, I went to close the door in her face, but she was faster and slapped her palm against the surface to stop me. The sound echoed off the walls, and if Ms. Hilda, for some unknown reason, hadn’t been aware of what was going on right in front of her doorstep, she definitely would’ve heard that noise and would soon come out to investigate.

“I have things to say,” she announced with a lift of her chin as she met my gaze.

“Victoria…leave,” I gritted out through clenched teeth, and she was smart enough to notice how close I was to losing it on her. She dropped her angry stance and took a step back, going back to the innocent act.

“I’ll leave. I promise, I will. I just want to talk, Dylan, just this once, and then if you don’t want to, you’ll never see me again. I only want to apologize.”

A key rattled, signaling that it was too late to get rid of Victoria without an incident that would take even longer to resolve. Ms. Hilda would be out as soon as she unlocked her door, demanding to know what was going on, and I had no time for that woman.

Out of options, I jerked my head. “Get inside.”

Victoria walked in. Just as I clicked the door shut behind her, Ms. Hilda’s door groaned open.

Walking past my ex-girlfriend, I headed straight toward the kitchen area. “You have until I hear the next-door neighbor close her door.” Pressing my palms on the breakfast bar, I felt it necessary to repeat myself. “I don’t need your apology. I will listen, only because you forced me to, but I have nothing to say to you. I thought I’d already made that clear when I caught you getting fucked by my teammates.”

“You’re still angry—don’t you see what that means?” she asked, walking toward me.