Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
His words hang heavy in the air, but I shake my head, my heart swelling with certainty. "I don’t care," I say, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. "I’m not worried about the paparazzi. Whatever it takes to be with you, I’ll do it."
York’s eyes soften, and he runs his hand gently down my cheek, his fingers brushing my skin before he cups my face, the warmth of his touch grounding me. His thumb strokes lightly along my jawline, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world falls away. “I want to be with you too, Noelle. I just don’t know how it’ll work.”
He’s backpedaling. Oh god. How embarrassing. How could I have been so naive?
The world around me seems to slow down, like I’m moving through quicksand. I hear York talking, but his words sound muffled, like he’s speaking to me from underwater. I’m not even sure what he’s saying anymore. All I know is that the weight in my chest is growing heavier by the second.
I take a small step back, trying to put some distance between us. “Yeah, totally,” I manage to say, though the words feel foreign in my mouth. I’m not even sure if it’s the right response, but I can’t focus. I can’t believe this is happening.
My heart is racing, and the walls of the garage feel like they’re closing in, pressing down on me. I need to get out. The air in here is too thick, too stifling. I can’t breathe.
He’s still talking, his voice more urgent now, but I’m barely listening. My brain is screaming at me to keep it together, to not let him see how much this hurts. I will not cry in front of him.
Then, the words slip out before I can stop them. “You had sex with me before breaking up with me?” My voice wavers, betraying the storm of emotions I’m trying so hard to hold back. I phrase it like a question, but deep down, I already know the answer.
His eyes widen, and for a moment, there’s real panic in his expression. “What? No. Noelle, it’s not like that at all.”
But it is like that. It feels exactly like that. The truth crashes over me like a wave, suffocating and unrelenting. York used me. And now, the realization hits me so hard I feel like I might collapse under the weight of it.
I want to curl up into a ball and disappear, to float away from this mess, from him, from the hurt that’s crushing my chest.
I rush out of the garage, hurrying to my bedroom. I shut the door behind me, and there’s a soft knock a moment later.
“Noelle,” York whisper-shouts through the door. “Please, let’s talk.”
I crack the door open. “You’ve said everything there is to say. You were right, this will never work out.” I open the door further, my confidence growing. “It was silly of me to think it would. You’re right, I don’t want the fame. The paparazzi. I just want to finish school in one piece. Goodnight, York.”
He doesn’t say a word, just stares at me with his jaw set in stone.
I shut the door and that’s when the tears fall. Goodbye, York, it’s over.
Chapter 23
York
It’s Christmas, and the house is buzzing with energy. Coach’s place is packed with players from the team, everyone gathering for the annual family feast. There’s laughter, the sound of glasses clinking, and the scent of roasted turkey and freshly baked pies wafting through the air. Normally, I’d feel right at home here, surrounded by my teammates, all of us enjoying a rare moment of downtime during the season. But today, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something fragile, ready to break.
I scan the room, looking for Noelle, but she’s avoiding me—flitting around like the perfect little hostess, all smiles as she refills drinks, chats with everyone, and makes sure everyone is comfortable. She’s doing everything except looking at me. It’s like I don’t exist. And it’s killing me.
Things between us have been tense ever since last night in the garage. I screwed up. I know I did. And now, all I want is to talk to her, to explain, to fix it. But every time I catch her eye, she’s already moving on to someone else, her back turned before I can even open my mouth. The distance between us feels impossible to cross, and it’s gnawing at me, eating away at any holiday cheer I should be feeling.
One of my teammates, Bryce, sidles up next to me, nudging me with his elbow. “Man, it must’ve been crazy pretending to date Coach’s daughter, huh?” he says, a grin plastered on his face like it’s some kind of joke. “Bet that was awkward as hell.”
I force a laugh, but it comes out hollow. Bryce has no idea. None of them do. The guys have been teasing me all week about it, ever since the news about me and Noelle faking our relationship for the media came out. But they don’t know the truth. They don’t know how much I really care about her. How this whole thing stopped feeling fake a long time ago.