I nod.
“Why’d you break up?”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Because we were in high school.”
“So? What if she was your soulmate?” Allie challenges. “You don’t believe high school sweethearts can make it?”
“Nope. I don’t think you’re capable of knowing what you want or need from a relationship at that age. When you’re in high school, you have no concept of real life. You don’t realize how much growing up you still have to do. I’m definitely not the same person now that I was in my teens. Hell, I’m not the same person I was last semester.”
“Sure you are.” She smiles sweetly. “You were a manwhore last semester and you’re a manwhore this semester.”
“True,” I say with a snicker.
Allie drops her phone in the cup holder and shifts around in her seat so she can see me better. “Do you still talk to your high school girlfriend?”
Tension slices into my bones. “No.”
“You just lost touch?”
“I guess you can say that.” I exhale slowly, hoping to ease the tightness in my chest. “She’s the reason Coach O’Shea hates me, actually. Miranda’s his daughter.”
“Uh-oh. You dated your coach’s daughter?” Allie takes on a chiding tone. “Oh, sweetie, that’s like rule number one in the dating handbook—never date the kid of your authority figure.”
“Do I look like someone who follows the rules?” My answering grin fades rapidly. “I couldn’t help it,” I admit. “At the time, Miranda was pretty frickin’ awesome. Impossible to resist. She attended Greenwich Prep for free because Frank coached there, so she wasn’t a rich kid. She was completely different from the girls I’d always gone to school with. She didn’t give a shit about image or being the Queen B, didn’t shame other people to make herself feel better. She was down-to-earth. Funny. Hot.”
“Well duh. Dean Heyward-Di Laurentis only bangs hotties.”
“I didn’t bang her. At least not right away. It took a long time to get there, but I wasn’t in any hurry.” I wink. “We had fun doing other stuff.”
“So when did you do the deed?”
“A couple months before we broke up.” My shoulders stiffen again. I hate thinking about that night.
Allie senses it, because her tone becomes wary. “What happened?”
Fuck, why did I even open this door? “About nine months into the relationship, things got…intense.” And why am I even answering the question? “Miranda started talking about us staying together when we went to college, which was never part of the deal.”
“Wait—did O’Shea know at this point? That you were dating his daughter?”
“Yeah, he knew. He wasn’t thrilled, but he said as long as Miranda was happy, he was happy. Didn’t stop him from giving me grief about it, though. I’d pick her up for a date and he’d interrogate me about where we were going, who would be there, when we’d be back. And one time he threatened to shoot my balls off if I didn’t treat her with respect.”
“My father gave Fletch the same speech when we started dating. Trust me, it’s a dad thing.” Allie’s laughter dies off. “So Miranda was talking about college…?”
“All the time, and it really fucking worried me because we were on the same page going into the relationship. I didn’t want to do the long-distance thing in college. I saw my brother and his ex-girlfriend go through it, same with a few buddies who graduated the year before. They spent their freshman year holding on to something they should’ve just let go. The phone calls got less frequent, the visits stopped, the jealousy and insecurity set in. Worrying about what the other person was up to, who they might be hooking up with. I didn’t want that, and neither did Miranda. She was planning on going to Duke. I was planning on Briar or Harvard. We both agreed that if we were still together by the time graduation rolled around, we would end it.”
“But she changed her mind?”
“Yup. It was subtle at first. She’d talk about something we were going to do in the future, I’d remind her it probably wouldn’t happen, and she’d laugh it off and say she forgot. But then she got…clingy. She’d call like ten times a day, and suddenly she was paranoid I was cheating on her. I wasn’t, by the way—I’ve never cheated on anyone I made a commitment to.”
“So you ended it? No, wait, first you had sex with her.”
I hear the accusation in Allie’s tone, and I can’t deny it hits its mark. “Yeah. I did.” My mouth runs dry. I try to swallow. “Miranda was with this other guy for two years before she went out with me. When we started dating, she told me she’d had sex before.”