Scrimmage Gone South (Crimson Romance) (23 page)

“No, I don’t need any water from you. And I know you called.”

“You know? You got my messages?” He always returned her calls.

“I chose not to answer your calls. I thought that prudent, you being a minor and all.”

The bottom fell out of her stomach, her world, the universe.

“I tried to tell you last weekend — ” she began.

He held up a hand. “Do not talk about last weekend!” he said through gritted teeth. “Did you laugh at me? For giving you that lame student ticket, when you spend every game in the President’s Box? You must have thought it was hilarious when I gave you my jersey to wear. I somehow don’t think that’s appropriate attire to hobnob with the dignitaries — even if it is the jersey of the late great Nathan Scott.”

“Oh, no, Nathan. It wasn’t like that. No. I — ”

“Get out of here, Townshend. Leave. Your game of the little rich girl playing with the poor but promising super jock is over. Because I am not a super jock anymore.”

“I don’t care. I never — ”

“Save it,” he said coldly. “I have to admit though, you really had me going. That night at the DKE House. I could have sworn you didn’t know who I was.”

“Nathan, I know I did wrong. I know it’s a mess. But if you will just let me explain.”

“Did it even occur to you that I am twenty-one years old? Almost twenty-two. Do you know I could have been arrested?”

“No. You could not have. We didn’t do anything.”

“Innocent people are arrested all the time, Townshend. And my career would have been over.” He laughed a laugh totally devoid of humor. “Though I guess if you weren’t going to get me one way, you would get me another. Looks like my career is over anyway.”

“What? I don’t see how I — ” It’s not like she had been on that field today in a Mississippi State Bulldog uniform.

“Distraction, Townshend. An hour before suiting up, I found out that the sweet, classy girl who I thought just might be the love of my life, was a sixteen-year-old manipulative, lying star chaser.” He looked away. “You need to leave, Townshend. There are no more stars here to chase.”

“But how — ”

“That would be important to you, wouldn’t it? I went into Harris’s room to borrow some batteries. There was a stack of pictures of some fancy shindig your family attended — some cousin’s debutante party, Harris said — and guess who was front and center, every picture?” He made a disgusted sound. “Harris noticed I was staring at your pictures and told me to put my eyes back in my head, that you were sixteen years old.”

“Nathan, I am sor — ”

He cut her off. “Don’t you dare apologize to me, Townshend. And take your lying private school debutante ass back to that fancy little girls’ school. Do it now. Oh, and don’t worry. I didn’t tell Harris. You’re going to live to deceive another day. Basketball season has started. You might want to check out the fraternity houses at Duke and the University of Kentucky. Those are your basketball powerhouses. Good luck.”

She could not have imagined him so bitter, so mean, even with good reason.

Just then a nurse came in. “Mr. Scott, we got a call from the information desk that this young lady is your cousin and Dr. Evans gave her permission to stay with you tonight. Is that true? We don’t have any such notation on your chart.”

“No, it’s not true. She’s just a fan. Could you please see to it that she leaves?”

“Shall I call the police?”

“No. Not this time.”

“Then I’ll have security see her to her vehicle. And the University is arranging for a guard outside your door. The press is becoming a problem.”

“Fine.” Nathan closed his eyes and turned his head away.

Tolly drove back to school that night, where thanks to her roommate’s quick thinking and willingness to cover for her, she had not been missed.

Over the next several days, she tried to call Nathan almost hourly. It always went to voice mail. She never talked to him again, though he did talk to
her
once. On the fourth day he picked up.

“Townshend, I am having my number changed, so do not bother trying to call it again. If you show up here or somehow get my new number and call, I
will
tell Harris what you did. And I won’t spare a single detail.” And he hung up.

Later that day, she heard on the news that what had been predicted was true. The Angel, Heisman hopeful Nathan Scott, had no more hope. With rehab, and more surgeries, he would walk.

There had never been any mention in the news of Nathan’s mother coming to be with him but, at the time, Tolly had just assumed she had. Now, she wondered.

She had been a fool to think they could come back from something like that.

But how could he think that she would cheat on him when she was trying so hard to make it work? And with Luke, of all people?

In an effort to understand what had just happened, she replayed it all in her head. It was only then that she realized that Nathan had not even looked surprised. Angry, irrational, and hurt, certainly, but not surprised. And he had not taken her to task at all. It was Luke he had expected better from.

He had expected the worst from her all along.

As soon as Nathan’s feet hit the pavement in front of Harris and Townshend’s law office, he realized what he had done. Tolly and Luke? The thought was ridiculous, really.

Damn his soul to hell. The question was, what should he do now? Sick, he got in his truck and laid his head on the steering wheel to contemplate that very question. Should he go back in and apologize? Text her and say, “April Fool!” or maybe, “Nathan’s a fool”?

Try harder, huh? Well, that was almost funny.

Maybe he could lie and say it was a joke. Except he never lied and none of that had been funny.

He raised his head and leaned it on the headrest. Maybe he should just drive away and show up on her doorstep tonight.

He was so preoccupied that he did not realize that Luke had emerged from the building until he jerked open the truck door.

His eyes looked like the flames of hell and Nathan didn’t blame him.

He’d never heard a colder voice than the one that spoke to him now. “Nathan Scott, if you say one word about what you
imagined
was going on in there and cause my wife one nanosecond of embarrassment or discomfort, I swear to God, on the legal system, and on the head of the governor of this state, who is my godfather, that I will see to it that your life is not worth living. And this is not Daryl Grayson talking. This is the oh-so-ethical Judge Lucas Avery, who does not give a tinker’s damn about ethics where his family is concerned. Depend on that.”

Well, he’d been put in his place right and proper. He could take it. He’d learned early on.
Yes, sir, I accept complete responsibility for the loss. I let down my teammates, my coaches, and the fans. My fault entirely.

“I know I was wrong, Luke. I knew it the second I left that office. Even if that wasn’t so, I am not a gossip. I would not cause trouble between you and Lanie.”

Luke closed his eyes and shook his head. “You are a fool, Nathan.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“Then I’m glad you’ve had at least one lucid thought today. You see, there would be no trouble between my wife and me, even if the archangel Gabriel appeared to Lanie and told her he had seen Tolly and me copulating. You know why? Because Lanie knows that I am incapable of such a thing, not to mention Tolly.” He took a deep breath. “Those four women love their wine and their gossip. They’ve got to have a theme to walk to the mailbox. One of them is the bossiest woman alive and the other three kowtow to her. And they haven’t discussed a book at that book club of theirs in — well, probably
ever
. But they would fight you, me, and the devil himself for each other. And they would win. If they were capable of cheating on their men — which they are not — it wouldn’t be with one of us.”

Okay, he had it coming, but he’d had enough.

“Luke, look. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know what else to say to you.” He hesitated. “Do you want me to get out of this truck so you can hit me? I’ll do it.”

Luke sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “No. I don’t want to hit you. I don’t even want to be mad at you, though I think I will be, at least until tomorrow. You’ve got enough problems.”

“That I do. Any advice?”

“If you were in my courtroom, I’d send you to anger management.”

• • •

Tolly had been in the shower for far too long, but Kirby was in the living room watching Monday Night Football and this was the only place in her house that she had the privacy she needed to cry. Every time she thought she had gotten hold of herself enough to leave the bathroom, she’d remember something sweet that had happened between Nathan and her and she’d have a brand new come apart. Then she’d remember the hurt of today, and the come apart would escalate to hysterics.

What she needed was a bottle of tequila.

Oh!
She bent double. There was that time at the Mexican restaurant in Birmingham. They’d gone there with Missy and Harris. She’d offered Nathan a taste of her margarita, and he’d said real men didn’t drink sissy drinks. Then he had squeezed her hand under the table and given her that sweet misty look.

She soaped her hair again. She was going to have the cleanest hair in the history of heartbreak.

There was knocking at the bathroom door. Oh, what now? True, they only had one bathroom. True, she had been in here a long time. But she’d never known a man who didn’t delight in peeing in the yard and Miss Caroline had plenty of bushes. Not that she approved. But just this once, she needed Kirby to embrace nature and leave her alone.

She turned off the water. “What is it, Kirby?”

“Sorry, Miss Tolly. Coach is here. He said to tell you he’d wait.”

Crap almighty. Anything but that. But she couldn’t make Kirby her messenger boy. She could see it now.

“Tell Coach, I am not coming out.”

“Okay!” Five seconds later: “Coach says he’s not leaving ’till you do.”

“Yeah? Well, you tell Coach … ”

No, that wouldn’t do. “Tell him I’ll be out in a bit,” she said because, really, what else was there to say?

• • •

It was easy for Nathan to put the football portion of his brain on automatic pilot so he could discuss the game with Kirby without thinking about it.

It might be cowardly, but he was hoping Townshend had talked to Luke so that she already knew he was aware of the error of his ways.

“Coach, do you want a Coke?” Kirby asked when a commercial came on. The boy was so pleased that he was here that it was humbling. He doubted Townshend was going to be as pleased. Or pleased at all. “And Miss Tolly bought you some Almond Joys. They’re in the fridge. I could get you one.”

“No, thanks, Seven.” Eating was not an option. “How do you know she bought them for me?” Pitiful. He was starving for some shred of evidence that she cared enough for him that he might be able to salvage this.

“She said so. Told me to stay out of them because they were for you and candy isn’t on the nutrition plan.”

It was a pretty good bet she hadn’t bought that candy on her way home from work today. What was taking her so long? He could have had three showers and ironed a suit of clothes by now.

Ah, soft little footsteps coming down the hall. Finally. He stood up. Her hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing gray sweats. He’d never seen her in sweats before, but she had done her makeup and it was apparent — at least to him — why. She’d been crying. He’d made her cry. The pain in his stomach made his knee seem like a paper cut.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello.” Her tone was entirely neutral. There was nothing in her demeanor to alert a teenage boy that anything was amiss, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye. Okay, it could be worse. It was clear that she didn’t want to visit this on Kirby. He could at least get her out of the house for the ass chewing that he absolutely had coming. He would welcome it because it would help him atone; make him remember to think twice next time.

“Do you want to go get some coffee?” he asked.

“Yes, I would,” she said icily. “I would have had some this afternoon, but there was an accident with it.”

She’d looked in the garbage can to see what he’d brought her.

“It
was
an accident,” Nathan said.

“What?” Kirby had chosen this moment to key into something besides the Buffalo Bills.

“Hmm,” she said. “Nothing, Kirby.”

Nathan walked to the door. “It’s nice out. You don’t need a coat.”

She picked up her purse from the little table by the door and fished her keys out. “Kirby, I won’t be gone long. Homework?”

“Done.”

“Physics test tomorrow?”

“I got it. I promise.”

“I hope so. You know I can’t help with that.”

“Mr. Webb gave us a practice test and I got all but one. And I know where I went wrong.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me.” She took her cell phone off the charger and put it in her purse.

“Yes, ma’am.” And he was gone — back to the game.

As soon as they got out the door, he said. “Townshend, I am sorry. I know — ”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t start out here. Go get in my car.” He had expected a hard angry voice, not a shaky soft one.

“Your car?” They never went in her car. He liked to drive. And since Kirby’s accident, she was pretty anal about leaving her car for him so he wouldn’t ride with other kids.

“
My
car.” She stalked off toward the garage.

So she had no intention of being in his power. She wanted to be able to put him out on the side of the road, if she wanted to. The question was, what road? Where did a woman take you for you to kiss her ass and sell your soul until she would kiss and make up?

He tried to get in but the passenger seat was too far forward for him to fit. He felt around on the sides of the seat, looking for the adjustment knob until she sighed and pressed a button on the dash. It slid all the way back.

“Pretty fancy,” he said.

“Hmm.” She started the car and backed out.