Faking the Play (Hot Mess Harems #2)

37. Amelia

Chapter thirty-seven

Amelia

M y dorm room looked like a botanical garden combined with someone’s Amazon wish list and then exploded. The guys kept sending stuff, each item specifically linked to some shared memory or the sort of thing that proved how well they knew me. I knew they’d respect my wishes if I asked them to stop, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not because I wanted all the stuff, but because I really did miss them and didn’t have the strength to completely cut them out of my life.

And it didn’t help that Megan was on their side.

She hadn’t said much about me giving them another chance, but she also didn’t complain as our room slowly filled up with stuff. She was also being a better roommate than she’d been the entire time we’d lived together, which made it hard to stay angry with her.

Some people might not have understood why I was more willing to forgive her than I was the guys, especially considering she hadn’t believed me over Jason, and then she’d been instrumental in causing the problem that had driven me and the guys apart. The thing was, I’d only known her for four years. I’d considered her one of my best friends, but that was only because I didn’t really have anyone else. Looking back, I realized how little we actually knew about each other.

The guys and I had a deep, intimate history, even if we’d only been lovers for a short time. They’d known me in ways that no one else ever had, and they’d still believed the worst.

I wasn’t ready to get past that hurt, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be.

But I was, apparently, going to the playoff game despite my numerous efforts to avoid it.

I’d stuck to my resolve not to go until Professor McNeil offered extra credit for attending. Extra credit and he’d provide tickets for us. If my grades had been where they normally were, I probably would’ve passed on the offer, but I’d screwed up a couple assignments in his class right after what happened with the guys, and it put my grade on the border between a B and an A. Going to the game would give me the points I needed to get that A.

So here I was, bundled up against the cold and hoping that the hat and scarf, along with my coat and gloves, would keep anyone from recognizing me. Word about what had happened with me and the guys hadn’t made the rounds, but everyone in my dorm knew that something was up.

The fact that Megan had kept her mouth shut about all of it had been the last push I needed to ask her if she was going to the game, and if she’d go with me so I didn’t have to sit alone. She agreed and managed to trade tickets with one of my classmates to get a seat next to me. I’d hoped the seats were way up high, but Professor McNeil had actually gotten some pretty good seats only a few rows behind our team. Normally, I would’ve been thrilled, but now I was just hoping to avoid prying eyes and keep the guys from noticing me at all, and for the twenty minutes leading up to the team’s entrance, it seemed to be working.

It was harder to ignore the conversations around us about Logan’s career-ending injury. I’d managed to do it all week by avoiding people as much as I could, but now I was surrounded and the stands were packed, with no empty space for me to escape to.

Then everyone was on their feet, cheering as the Rams came running onto the field, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe. I couldn’t see Ryan or Ethan from here, but it was easy to spot Logan as he made his way up the sidelines, maneuvering his crutches like he’d been doing it his whole life. I couldn’t see his face from where I stood, but I imagined it couldn’t be easy for him to not be with the rest of the guys, to know he was never going to play again. That something great and wonderful that he’d been a part of was lost to him forever…

My heart squeezed and a lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t sit here and watch the game like it was no big deal.

I turned toward Megan to tell her that I needed to go, but froze as a familiar voice echoed from the sound system.

“Amelia Fine? Amelia, I know you’re here.”

I looked over at Megan, the guilty expression on her face telling me exactly how Logan knew I’d come to the game.

“Amelia, can you please come down to the front? Please.”

Now everyone was looking around, trying to spot me, and I knew if I tried to leave it would just draw attention to me. Shit. Shoving my hands into my coat pockets, I sighed and started to make my way to the end of the row, Megan following right behind me. Bracing myself, I headed for the wall that separated the stands from the field. When I reached it, Logan was right there, leaning on his crutches as he held a microphone in one hand. Ethan and Ryan stood on either side of him, both dressed in their uniforms but without their helmets, letting me see their faces.

“Last week, after I got hurt, I was told I’d never play football again,” Logan began. “And a lot of people would probably use the phrase ‘my world ended’ if they got news like that. But the truth is, my world ended weeks before that when I let my own insecurities and baggage take away the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His eyes locked with mine and even though he still spoke into the mic so everyone could hear him, I knew the words were for me.

“You know how fu—screwed up my family is,” he continued, stumbling when he realized he probably should keep the cursing to a minimum. He kept going though, clearly determined to say everything he had to say. “My parents showed me from a young age that romantic love doesn’t last, and faithfulness is a joke. I let that poison me more than I realized, and there aren’t the words to say just how sorry I am.”

I swallowed hard, clenching my jaw as I tried to keep back my emotions. Logan didn’t talk about his family, not like this, and certainly not in front of strangers. He pretended his parents’ divorce was just a run-of-the-mill kind of thing that hadn’t really affected him. Him laying this all out in front of people who weren’t just strangers, but fans—some of whom were probably not too happy about getting relationship drama instead of a football game—spoke more about the depth of his feelings than any of the notes or gifts back in my room.

“I love you, Amelia,” he said. “You’re one of my best friends and I know I don’t deserve to have you forgive me, but I hope you will.”

And then he handed the mic to Ethan. My gaze followed.

“I’m more likely to make jokes than declarations,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ve smiled or laughed since you walked out. You’ve always been there for me, taking care of me, supporting me, and when it mattered the most, I didn’t do the same for you. I told myself that I didn’t think straight when it came to you, but that was just an excuse. These two are my best friends, and I was scared that taking your side would mean I’d lose them, and if I was wrong about you, I’d end up alone.”

I bit my bottom lip, tears stinging my eyes.

“I’m so sorry, and I swear that if you can forgive me, I’ll never not have your back again.” One side of his mouth quirked up in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’ll even write that Superman vs. Captain America fanfiction with you.”

My heart gave an unsteady thump as I remembered our constant debate about writing a story featuring a fight between Superman and Captain America. I’d been for it. Ethan had insisted it would be boring because they were both too nice.

“I love you, Amelia, and I want you back in my life.”

Even though I guessed it was coming, I was still half-surprised when Ryan took the mic.

“Words aren’t my thing,” he said. “But I’ll write you a whole damn book about how sorry I am and how much I love you if it’ll get you back.”

A tear spilled over and ran down my cheek. Other people might not understand what that meant, but I’d watched him struggle for years, thinking he was stupid.

“We want you back,” Ryan continued, changing from the singular to a plural without looking even a bit embarrassed about it. Anyone who hadn’t understood it before definitely got it now. “And to show you how much, we kinda put something together for you.”

Music started to play, and it was familiar music, but it took me until Ryan sang the first line to realize what it was.

“‘Come my love…”

My hands covered my mouth in shock as these three popular athletes sang me the love song from The Princess Bride . Behind and around me, I could hear people reacting—mostly positively —but I didn’t care. When we were kids, they’d chosen football over me, and now they were disrupting the most important game of the season, risking people being pissed at them, to publicly apologize, own their wrongs, and show me how much I meant to them.

As they finished, Ethan handed off the mic to one of the other guys and all three men came over to stand right in front of me. Their expressions were open books and I read everything I could ever want on their faces.

“I love you too,” I said, leaning forward to get closer to them. “And I forgive you.”

As Ethan beamed and Logan closed his eyes in relief, Ryan took my face between his hands and kissed me. The contact was brief, but held the promise of more to come. By the time he pulled back, Ethan was there, and then Logan. I kissed all three of my men and didn’t care what anyone else thought.

“Now go play your best,” I said. “And be careful. I want to celebrate later.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Ethan and Ryan ran to get their helmets, while Logan lingered.

“How did you get your coach to let you guys do this?” I asked.

Logan shrugged. “I told him it was the only way Ethan and Ryan would be able to concentrate on the game.”

“And the other team?”

Logan grinned. “Their coach is a huge Princess Bride fan.”

I laughed, then leaned down to press a kiss to Logan’s forehead. “Get over there with your team, and I’m going back to my seat. I’ll see you after we win.”

As Megan and I returned to our seats, I knew I’d be the center of attention for a while longer, but now I didn’t care. If we could work through this, we could work through anything, and that meant we’d never have to go through anything alone ever again.