Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I weigh the compromise, but it only takes me a second to realize I’d rather have his trust and the truth, so I easily agree to his demand. “I swear it.”
“Not even Willa,” he says, lips pressed flat. “You can’t even tell her.”
“I promise,” I say, hating that I just put a handcuff on our relationship. I’m of the belief that you should have no secrets from the person you love, and it hits me with a hard punch to the chest… I think I’m falling in love with Willa. I shake my head and reiterate, “I won’t tell another soul.”
Penn looks around, sees that we’re relatively alone but lowers his voice so much, I strain to hear. “Back when we played on the Wraiths together, something really bad happened…”
♦
Sitting on the couch with Willa, a glass of wine in hand, I cannot seem to connect with the romantic atmosphere. I have my girl by my side, the lights are dimmed, my team won tonight and music plays in the background. Willa is cuddled next to me and this is a moment I’ve been striving for in this relationship.
But my mind is still stuck on what Penn told me. The story was brutal, horrific and unbearably sad. Each word he spoke replays in my head, painting vivid, haunting images that refuse to fade. I feel an overwhelming sense of sympathy for Penn, a deep ache knowing what he carries with him every single day. I can’t imagine living with that kind of weight, the constant reminder of what happened. Now, everything makes sense—the man in the crowd, McLendon’s actions. Their hatred isn’t random; it’s rooted in a painful past Penn can’t escape.
Willa interrupts my thoughts, her voice gentle. “You’re quiet tonight. What’s wrong?”
I don’t even think to lie to her, shifting us a little so I can turn to face her. “I learned something tonight about Penn, and I made a promise I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Willa nods, her eyes soft with understanding. “Then you shouldn’t tell me. If you promised, you have to keep that promise.”
“I will, and thank you for understanding that. But without telling you the details, I can just say that Penn has been through something really bad. It explains why he holds himself away from the rest of the team, but I think I could help him. I just don’t know what to do. He’s also forbidden me from bringing it up again.”
“I’m so sorry, babe.” Willa takes my hand, thinking. “I guess the main thing is that Penn’s wishes have to be respected. All you can do is be a supportive teammate and friend. Maybe make an overture after some time passes or offer to talk if he ever wants. But otherwise, you’re going to have to hold that knowledge and the frustration that you can’t fix it.”
Her words make sense, and I let out a sigh, leaning back into the couch. “You’re right. It’s just hard, you know?”
She nods, cuddling back into me. “I know. But sometimes, being there for someone, even silently, can be the most powerful support you can give.”
“Smart advice,” I murmur, and then lean over to press my lips to the top of her head. “Thank you for that.”
I drain the rest of my wine, noting that hers is almost empty. “You want some more?”
Willa sits up, tips the glass back and drains it. She then stands from the couch and takes my glass, turning to set them both on the coffee table. “I want something other than wine.”
Her voice is husky and promising.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” she affirms, moving to push my legs apart. She puts her hand to my chest and pushes me back into the couch.
Willa drops to her knees, reaches for my belt buckle and whispers, “I’m going to make you forget about Penn for a while, okay?”
I about swallow my tongue, looking at her kneeling there before me and I know exactly what she’s about to do to make me forget.
Suddenly, Penn seems like a problem that can sit on the back burner for a while.
CHAPTER 20
Willa
The gentle rays of the morning sun struggle to penetrate the grimy streets of downtown Pittsburgh. I stand outside the entrance of the homeless shelter, a dilapidated building nestled between boarded-up storefronts and graffiti-covered walls. The area is eerily quiet at this early hour, with only the occasional car passing by and a few homeless individuals shuffling past.
As I glance around, taking in the shelter’s worn brick facade and the cracked sidewalks, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see King’s name flash on the screen. It’s only seven a.m. here, which means it’s four a.m. in Vegas. I answer quickly, surprised but pleased to hear from him.
“Hey there,” I say with a smile. “You’re up early. Did you stay out all night gambling?”