Spinning Out(The Blackhawk Boy #1)(47)

Bringing me to rest against his chest, he knots a hand in my hair and I count his slow, ragged breaths.

I am alive, but today killed Arrow a little. Maybe I'm not the only one  who needs answers about that night. Maybe answers will bring Arrow peace  as well.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Tomorrow Sebastian's going to get me the police  reports. I'll follow every clue I can until I find the truth.





New Year's Eve, the night of the accident





It's New Year's Eve, and I'll be fucking glad to say adios to the year  from hell. I shouldn't feel that way. Not everything about this year  sucked. Football was good, so good in fact that Coach wants me to enter  the draft this spring-take an offer while I'm hot, because next year's  never a sure thing. But everything with Mia leaves all that in a shadow  of loneliness and frustration that makes me feel like a fool.                       
       
           



       

You know how I want to spend my New Year's Eve? I want to spend it with  Mia. Just the two of us in my car by the lake. I'd let it idle for hours  so we could sit in the back together, watching the stars twinkle across  the ice.

Instead, I volunteered to help set up for the party at West High School.  There's a big initiative to keep students off the roads on New Year's  Eve, and the high school is hosting an overnight party as part of the  effort. I don't have to be there all night, but I promised to help set  up the food stations. I'm borrowing Coach's SUV so I can pick up the ice  and root beer keg, and I should be done by nine, ten at the latest.

I pull on a hooded BHU sweatshirt and shove my keys into my pocket to  head out the door, but when I step into the common space, I hear a weird  sound from Brogan's room and stop. It sounds like someone crying. A  girl.

"This is the last time," Brogan says. "I mean it. This is a mistake I'm not making anymore."

"What makes her so much better than me, huh?" the girl asks. The voice is familiar, but I can't place it.

Brogan murmurs something I can't make out.

"You never complained when my mouth was on your dick," she says, and I  know I should leave but I'm frozen in place, rage dripping into my blood  like so much potent poison.

There's a sharp crack-like an open palm across a cheek. "Fuck, Trish." Brogan groans. "That hurt."

"Good. Do you understand that if I walk out that door, I'm not coming back? When she breaks your heart, you're on your own."

"I love her."

The bedroom door swings open, and Trish storms through. She spots me and  pauses only briefly before charging out the main door and slamming it  behind her.

When Brogan steps into the common area, he has a damning case of bedhead  and is buttoning his jeans. He doesn't notice me at first, his eyes on  his fingers, but I just stare at him with everything I feel-anger,  frustration. Hatred.

I swallow hard. I never thought I'd see the day that I'd feel anything  like that toward Brogan. Not for a second. But I don't know any other  word for this blackness clawing at my gut.

As if he suddenly senses my presence, his fingers freeze on the last  button and he slowly raises his head to meet my eyes. His jaw goes slack  as mine tightens.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asks.

"Enough."

He grimaces. "Listen, it's not what it looks like."

"Does Mia know you're fucking Trish?"

"She probably wouldn't care. It's not like she's doing it."

I step forward and plant both hands against his chest, shoving him hard.  He stumbles back, only stopping when his shoulder hits the doorjamb.  "What the fuck is wrong with you? You have everything-everything-and  you're throwing it all away on some easy lay."

He pushes me, and I stumble back. "I have everything? Look who's  talking! You have no idea what it's like for us mere mortals. You have  money for anything you need. You have fucking NFL scouts salivating for a  chance to get you on their team."

"I'm not talking about money or football."

He takes a step closer and sneers at me. "Oh, you want to talk girls?  You sit there judging me for not being the perfect boyfriend when you  could have any girl you want."

"That's not true." I'm not even sure why I said it out loud. Maybe  because I'm sick of pretending. Maybe because after years of feeling  guilty for having so much more than my best friend in every single way, I  want him to understand that he has more in the only thing that matters.  He has Mia.

His lips curl into a smirk. "Right," he says slowly. "It's not. Because  she chose me. Even when you fucked my girlfriend the first chance you  got, she didn't want you. She chose me."

I swallow hard. "She told you?"

His nostrils flare and his face contorts in a grimace. "No. You just  did." He points to his chest. "But I knew. You two think I'm stupid or  something, but I knew the second I saw you in her doorway with those  flowers. I saw it all over your face and all over hers."

I shake my head. "I didn't touch her until after she broke up with you."

"But you sure didn't miss a beat when the opportunity presented itself,  did you?" He puts both palms flat against my chest and shoves me.

"You don't fucking deserve her." I catch myself as I stumble back and  charge at him, shoving him into the wall. "She doesn't deserve someone  who's going to fuck around on her."                       
       
           



       

"I am her fucking boyfriend, Arrow. She chose me, and she gets to decide what she does and doesn't deserve."

"Fine. I'll tell her what I heard between you and Trish today, and then you can see what she thinks she deserves."

"She chose me. And you won't tell her, because your fucking ego couldn't  handle knowing that you're her second choice. You want her so goddamned  much, but you don't want to be the guy you were that night. You don't  want to be the one who picks up the pieces. And if you tell her, that's  all you'll ever be."

I clench my fist and back up a step and then another before grabbing my keys off the end table. "Fuck you, Brogan."

I leave the dorms and operate on autopilot. Before I have a chance to  clear my head enough to think about what I'm doing, I find myself at Mia  and Bailey's apartment, my hand poised and ready to knock on the door.

I drop my hand and step away before I can knock.

The door swings open, and Bailey stands there, her coat zipped to her  chin, her purse thrown over her shoulder. She startles when she sees me,  then cocks her head and frowns. "Can I help you?"

"I . . . um . . ."

Bailey rolls her eyes before turning into the apartment. "Mia! Someone's  here for you." When she turns back to me, she studies my face. "You  decide what you want," she says quietly, "and then you fight for it."

I wonder how much she knows about what happened in October, but before I  can ask or respond in any way, she pushes past me down the hall and to  the stairwell.

Mia appears at the door in front of me. "Arrow? Are you okay?"

I open my mouth then close it again. "Your fucking ego couldn't handle knowing that you're her second choice."

He's right. Fuck him. But he's right. I don't want to be the guy she's  with because the one she wanted screwed up one too many times.

I swallow hard. "I have to help out at the high school for a few hours, but after . . ."

Her forehead furrows as she studies me, waiting for me to spit it out.

"Do you have plans for tonight?" I'm so lame. So fucking lame I want to  stab myself in the eye with the nearest sharp object. And I can tell  just by looking at her that she has plans.

She looks gorgeous. She always looks gorgeous, but tonight she looks  like an angel. She's dressed in white, a little dress that shows more  leg than it covers, with a tiny sweater on top that covers her shoulders  and her freckles. She's wearing makeup and her hair is down around her  shoulders. My stomach knots. She's definitely going out tonight, and of  course she has plans. Brogan would make sure they had plans for New  Year's Eve.

"Okay, so you obviously already have plans." I lick my lips, not sure how to go about this.

"I do."

Since the day I met Mia, she's had my heart in her hands, and every day  that I deny that, it just hurts me more. "Cancel them. Whatever you were  going to do with Brogan tonight, don't do it. Be with me instead."

Her brow wrinkles with concern. "What's wrong, Arrow? You look upset."

I drag my fingers through my hair and tug on it. You deserve so much better than this. "Mia, I'm in love with you."





My heart. Oh God, my heart. "Don't say that."

"What do you want, Mia?" He lifts his arms, palms up. Anguish pulls at  his mouth, contorting his attempted smile into a frown. "Do you not see  it? Have you really been oblivious all this time to how much you mean to  me? How special you are to me?"