Football players are assholes. I know; I'm related to their king. My older, and annoyingly overprotective, brother Jake is the star quarterback at Santa Cruz High School. I love him but hate living in his shadow. Everyone worshiping the air he breat...
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TW: This chapter contains content discussing sexual assault which may be triggering and not suitable for all readers.
If you've experienced sexual abuse or assault, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contactthe National Sexual Assault and Abuse Telephone Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 or visit www.rainn.org.
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"Ellie?"
"Hmm?" I hummed and half-opened my eyes. If Logan's shoulder wasn't rock-hard, it made a comfortable pillow. I pulled my head up. His hand stayed covering mine like a secure weighted blanket. Fingers interlocked, he squeezed them until my eyes met the look of a bearer of bad news. "What?"
His voice was flat, but a hardness darkened his eyes. "Ryder Stevens."
I needed a second for those words to slip through my lulled state, and when they did, they cut hard and deep. My body went stiff, except I tugged down the corners of my lips. Why did he do that? How could he bring that up now!?
Even I could appreciate the romantic night. A salty, briny smell tickled the inside of my nose, invasive sand itched my armpits and bra line, and seagulls encroached on us like vultures. Next to Logan, it was romantic. The warmth and softness of his kisses, the way he looked at me like he was lucky to be here, and his gentle touches that heated my skin made me feel safe and... happy.
So, what in the fuck of all fucks possessed his mind to bring up Ryder? My voice turned into a sharp bite. "What about him?"
"Freshman year, I was the backup to my trainer, Mason Stiles." Hesitation coated every word. "He played against Ryder his senior year. They were also on the same team in college. I saw Mason yesterday morning, and he told me-"
"What Ryder did!?" My fingers flew up to my mouth, which dropped in a silent gasp. Though Jake, I knew Ryder bragged about me in locker room shit-talk. He spread lies among a sea of jock straps and athlete's foot cream. He spread them through school, but I had no idea they extended past that.
Oh gosh. Other football teams and schools knowing the false rumors were too much for me to even think about. But this was different, more like he asked for the truth.
