I Hate Football Players

27: This Stinks

Fuck, I was an asshole for making her cry. For the first time in almost eighteen years, I felt awful. My armor of cockiness cracked and confusion slipped through them. Discomfort stretched my forty-minute drive home into hours.

I was supposed to charm her off her feet, make her smile and melt into putty, not make her cry. Her voice was so soft and sweet, even when she insulted me and held back crying. Tears glistened her eyes into mirrors and gutted me. A crying girl was uncomfortable on its own, but Ellie's came with a sense that whatever caused those tears was awful.

'It's bad?' What the fuck happened to her?

I hadn't meant to pry – okay, I had – but I was bothered by her wanting me to call her Elle. I wanted to pass that wall of resistance, but guilt gutted me when my simple question put tears in her eyes. Thankfully, she didn't see my panicked face. Other than 'Fuck, what do I do?' all I had was 'I'm sorry' when I wasn't sure what I was sorry for.

My hail Mary move seemed to help. Even though I kind of forced my arms around her, hugging Ellie made my skipping practice and the resulting eighty-seven text messages from the guys worth it. What was the big deal? Coach didn't give a shit. Tomorrow's game was a no-brainer and he planned to have Brent and Davis run more plays in practice.

I scrolled over my messages and smiled. The guys were worried that I was injured. No way I was telling them where I was today. For all I cared, they could think I had a dentist appointment.

Hugging Ellie wasn't me. My blood raced at the idea that someone, anyone, hurt her. Her tears stabbed into my chest, and I panicked. Once my arms were around her, my brain went to mush. My emotions, my thoughts, and Karen's house disappeared into a fog. All that mattered was Ellie not crying, even if I had no idea how to make her feel better.

She probably heard my heart pounding when she rested her head on my chest. Eventually, we both had to leave. And for once, she gave me not a grimace, not a scowl of disgust, but a shy, sheepish smile. It spread warmth through me, which died on the wall of discomfort erected in my chest. Her face softened when she smiled and, for the first time, I glimpsed the real Ellie.

And she's beautiful. I shook the crazy thought out of my head. It was still fuzzy when Mom greeted me in the kitchen with, "I realized where I know Eleanor from."

This felt like a trick. A trap to admit... I wasn't sure, but this Mom trap could be seen from space. "Eleanor who."

"Eleanor Harrison," she said with a dry look. "The girl you have a crush on."

Did I miss that development? Sure, Ellie was pretty and smart, but most of the time wanted nothing to do with me. "You're sorely mistaken." I scoffed and stepped around her. "She's nobody."

Mom's hand enclosed around my arm, and I turned to her smirk. "Hmm, well, that nobody's brother's best friend's Aunt plays in my bowling league."

I frowned and sat at the table with her. Brother's best friend's... She lost me at Kevin Bacon degree four. "And?"

Mom's smirk widened. "Oh, she has lots of lovely things to say about her hopeful niece-in-law. But I want to know what your interests are."

Hopeful niece-in-law? What was this, an arranged marriage? This was why gossip gave me a headache. It's like I lived with an old Ava. I couldn't hold back the bitterness that came out of my mouth. "Nothing. She's Harrison's sister."

"So? Who cares who her brother is?" She frowned. "What I'm going to wonder is what on earth a polite, kind, adorable, intelligent, and responsible girl would want to do with your dumb butt."

Fuck, now Ellie was old lady bowling league gossip. My chest lifted, and I heaved a sigh. A dog chasing its tail had more of an end than this pointless conversation. I stood and her hand grabbed my arm.