Page 39 of Snap

"You could say that," I said. I looked directly at Ollie. "So, you're a Rapid."

His shoulder shifted uncomfortably in his dark suit. Damn, he looked good enough to eat right here, right now.

"Yeah. And you are…"

"My daughter," Dad said.

Ollie's face paled."Rubie… Thomas."

"Right," I said. "Dad, if it's okay with you, I'm going to go home. I don't feel well."

I shot Ollie a look. A combination of anger and disappointment.

Okay, I was not completely honest with him, but had flat-out lied to me. He wasn't just a Rapids fan, he was one of them. A player.

And I had been played.

I should have known he was too good to be true. I had known. I hadn't wanted to admit it to myself.

I curled one of my hands into fists and dug my fingernails into my palms. I was not going to cry in front of him.

Rubie Thomas did not cry in front of anyone.

"Are you sure, honey?" Dad asked. "Do you need me to come with you?" He held out a hand to me.

I shook it away. "No, you stay here and enjoy yourself." This night was about him and his stupid team anyway. I didn't want to spoil it for him.

"I'll go and organise a ride home for you," he said.

Before I could argue, he walked away, leaving me alone with Ollie.

"Rubie—" Ollie started.

I shook my head. "Don't. I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

Tears prickled my eyes but I dug my nails in deeper. Any deeper and I'd draw blood, but I didn't care. It was nothing to the ache in my heart. He might as well have ripped it out and run across the field with it.

"I tried to tell you." He crouched down in front of me. His face was still pale, gorgeous blue eyes wide.

I snorted. "That's what they all say. You're just as full of shit as the rest of them."

"You didn't tell me the whole truth either," he pointed out. "You said you took photos."

"I do,” I said. "I didn't say what I took photos of. For the record, yes, I mostly take photos of myself."

"You didn't think to mention your father is the owner of the Rapids?" He sounded furious and frustrated.

"Why? So you could be a fanboy?" I shook my head. "Oh, right. You don't need to be a fanboy. You're the one who has fanboys."

He sighed loudly. "I don't ask for any of that. I just want to play football. And be a regular guy. You let me feel like I was. I'm so used to people making a fuss of me?—"

"So you lied to me," I said. "Because you wanted to feel normal. Because you thought I'd give a shit about you being a football player."

"Your father owns my team," he pointed out, "you should care."

"Well I don't," I snapped. "That is his world. His and yours. Not mine."

Ollie sat back on his heels like I'd struck him across the face.