Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗

Wyatt and Pete, so I get to have two bridesmaids as well. You and my cousin. What do you think?”

My brows rise. “What about your best friend, Chelsea?”

“Chels told me she’d prefer to stay at her beau’s side during the ceremony. It’s unusual for her to be so considerate of a guy’s feelings, so I think she really likes Howard,” Laia answers, blissfully unaware of my thumping heart.

I wish it were only the surprise that Laia is offering me this honor, but it’s not just that. And precisely because my heart is racing, I need to take all the necessary precautions. Pronto.

“If I’m not stepping on your bestie’s toe, then I’d love to be your bridesmaid. As long as you don’t pair me up with Wyatt,” I say.

Cora lifts a brow at me.

I quickly reach for my yoga mat and roll it up to lessen the effect of her penetrating gaze.

Laia, thank goodness, doesn’t seem startled by my latest request. “Pete’s tomcat manners would make Nathan, Eva’s hubby, jittery, so I’ll make her walk down the aisle with Wyatt.”

“Great idea,” I reply, but to my surprise, the relief in my voice is tinted with something weird—almost as if a splash of tangy lemon juice got mixed into my words.

“Is the ceasefire between you and Wyatt only temporary, then?” Cora asks.

My fingers tighten around the pink foam mat that’s now in a neat bundle. “What do you mean?”

“I think she’s asking whether you’ve buried the hatchet with Wyatt for good or not,” Laia chimes in while twisting her long, dark hair into a messy bun. “The air between you in El Placer seemed so chilled. Isn’t that right, Cora?”

Cora taps a pearl-tinted fingernail on her lower lip twice. “My impression wasn’t exactly that. The air between Ellie and Wyatt seemed rather…charged, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her brows at me.

I freeze.

I remember those loaded particles snapping back and forth between Wyatt and me during our dinner.

Did Cora notice them too?

I arrange my facial muscles in a hopefully serene expression and forbid my hand from doing my usual finger tapping. “No, I don’t know.”

Cora cocks her head to the side and studies my face. “I might not dig into people’s brains for work like you or get paid to unmask cheaters like Hope, but part of my job is to recognize when an object resonates with someone on a deeper level. Plus, I know you like you were my sister, and I can tell that Wyatt is moving something in you. Something profound.”

I think I pale because a chilly sensation spreads on my cheeks.

I need to deny Cora’s words, but I can’t. The words won’t come to my tongue, no matter how much I try to conjure them.

Laia’s eyes widen, then she shifts closer to me and touches my hand. “Ellie? Did something happen between you and Wyatt?”

Maybe it’s the sweetness in Laia’s voice, like she’s truly worried about me, or the piercing glance of my roomie that confirms that despite my best effort at pretending, she’s onto me, but a sudden urge to unload at least a fraction of my current mayhem invades my chest.

I blow out the air from my cheeks with a whoosh that hums like a fat bumblebee. “Many years ago, Wyatt and I had a…a short…a sort of…a thing.”

Laia gasps. “You mean a romantic thing?

I nod.

“I always suspected there had to be more between you two. You couldn’t just start disliking someone for a stupid argument,” Cora says.

Laia shakes her head. “I don’t understand. How come Devon never mentioned this to me?”

“I never told him. Or anyone else.” I shrug.

Cora studies me without saying a word.

I feel like a hypocrite recalling the countless times I told my roomie how important it was to talk openly about her past to liberate the ghosts that still torment her.

“But why?” Laia asks. “Keeping a secret like this must be hard.”

“By the time there was something to tell, it was almost over. It only lasted a month or so,” I reply, avoiding their gazes.

“A month is a long time.” Laia pulls her knees to her chin.

“Maybe,” I murmur.

And perhaps it is. I indeed can’t seem to forget it, no matter how hard I try.

“When did you date?” Cora finally asks.

Her voice is warm and lacks the accusing, why did you lie to us, tone I deserve.

“In my second year in college. We got together at that frat party in Tucson.”

Cora’s eyes drift to the ceiling, and she chews on her lower lip. “The one you went to with Hope? So it started just after Devon discovered Morgan’s betrayal, huh?” She blinks back at me, searching my gaze. “Is that why you kept it quiet? Because you didn’t want to burden your brother?”

“Not with my happiness at first, and certainly not with my pain afterward.” I sigh, a numbness nabbing my limbs.

It’s frightening and comforting to have friends who can deduce my motives so quickly.

Laia’s face twitches. She knows firsthand how that delusion had affected my brother. If it weren’t for Laia, Devon would still be a prisoner of that hideous playboy lifestyle Morgan pushed him into.

My roomie crawls over to me on all fours and hugs my shoulder. “So it ended that badly?”

I smooth a wrinkle on my blue T-shirt. “Well…I fell hard for Wyatt, so when he broke up with me, I had a hard time accepting how little he cared for me.”

Laia puts her palms on my ankles, nuzzling them. “Why did he end things?”

“He got drafted and wanted to focus entirely on his new career. But it wasn’t just the fact that he’d placed me second to football. What made it worse was how he did it—over the phone.” I try to describe the events as factually as possible, but my voice still breaks at the end.

I’d stacked away the memory of my breakup with Wyatt like one might imprison a malicious genie in a bottle, safely and tightly. But now the cork is loosening, and long-stifled details are drifting to the