Page 133 of The Illicit Play

“I can’t,” I whimper, shuddering again as I relive that horrible moment as the wordconsequencesbounced inside my brain. “Don’t make me do it, Grady. Please.”

Curling my arms around his shoulders, I cling to his solid body, feeling weak and pathetic. But I don’t know what else to do.

I thought I was stronger than this, but I’m obviously not.

I can live in a lie. I’ve been doing it most of my life.

The truth is too big and terrifying.

I can’t face what’s waiting for me on the other side of these horrible conversations.

I just can’t do it!

CHAPTER 45

GRADY

It’s been three days since Blake’s panic attack, and I still can’t stop thinking about it.

Holy shit, that was intense.

Seeing her lose it on my bed, that terrified look on her face when she thought she couldn’t breathe…

I’ve never watched anyone succumb to a panic attack before, and it was horrible, made a million times worse by the fact that I really care about this woman, and watching her suffer fucking killed me.

I want to help her, but how do I convince her to come clean?

Sure, telling her family the truth is going to be really hard, but once it’s out there, she can start moving on. Part of her issue is that she’s held out for so long that the problem feels too big. But it won’t start getting better until she does the right thing.

Same goes for you, man. You need to talk to Wily.

But I need a green light from Blake before I do that. It’s her secret, too, and I won’t send her into a spiral just toclear my conscience. But we can’t keep sneaking around either. Which is why I’ve been resisting every instinct in my body and trying to stay clear of her.

When I walked past her bedroom door last night, I didn’t sneak in the way I wanted to.

Sleeping without her sucks, but thankfully football training has been intense, so I come home totally shattered.

We’ve barely interacted, as I’ve been so busy with this truncated training schedule and catching up on homework that I haven’t had time to see anyone. And Blake’s been out of sight every time I’ve gotten home.

Wily’s complaining about her being a study whore, and I wanted to punch him for using that word in reference to her. It was only a joke, but it still got my back up. She’s no whore. And the fact that I couldn’t warn him of that killed me as well.

But she’s not my girlfriend.

She’s my teammate’s little sister, the girl I had a fling with in the forest. The one I can’t stop thinking about.

Dammit.

When I get home tonight, I’m gonna have to talk to her. We can’t keep going like this. I miss her. Part of me just wants to take her and disappear back into the wild. She was so happy and carefree there. No pressure, no demands. She could just be herself. We both could, and I want that back.

I want to see her unchecked smile, not that measured shit she pulls out around Wily and everybody else. I want to hear her laughing, see her dancing, watch her face when she’s overcome with awe or wonder.

Man, has Wily ever seen that side of her? Has she ever let anyone in?

Or has that privilege been mine alone?

The thought forms a quick lump in my throat.

Yeah, we really can’t keep going like this.