Never Gonna Tell by Sarah M. Ross Read Free Book Online Page A

cups fill an already-overflowing trashcan just inside the entrance to the kitchen, and there are dishes piled high in the sink. I move into the dining room and glance through an array of framed family photographs—each with a thick layer of dust. I guess since it’s just him and his dad, they don’t care too much about cleaning. I head back into the living room and move several newspapers out of the way before taking a seat on the couch.
    “I’m sure you do have a lot to think about. There’s a good deal of hype around you right now. You’re one of the best prospects coming out of high school this year.” I smile sweetly, hoping that I can butter him up so he won’t clam up on me when I ask him the real questions. And if not, maybe he’s drunk enough to let something slip.
    Hunter plops down on the recliner across the room and lets out a belch. “Excuse me.” He’s already used my distraction with the mess to stash his bottle somewhere. “We’ve had a great season. I’m lucky I have a great team supporting me.”
    Fabulous. He’s giving me canned answers. I need him to open up or at least let his guard down a little. “I want to start with some background questions, okay?”
    He nods. “Shoot.”
    I take out my phone and press record, then flip open a notebook so it looks like I’m prepared. “You grew up in a football family. Your dad played college ball too, right? How has that influenced your love of the game?”
    “Yeah, I guess you could say he influences my game,” he says, rolling his eyes. “My dad played in Georgia. He was a second-string safety, so he didn’t get much college playing time.”
    I nod. “I assume he’s not home at the moment?”
    “Thank God for small miracles,” he mutters, taking a swig out of a Coke bottle I’m fairly certain is spiked. There’s obviously some tension there, but I can’t press too hard too fast. I need to change the subject.
    “Was football big in your family growing up then?”
    “We live in Friday Night Lights country. It’s big everywhere.”
    I flip the page of my notebook. “Your mom died a few years ago. How did that affect things?”
    Hunter glances at a framed picture on the mantle, fighting to keep the emotion off his face. “It changed everything. My mom was … a grounding force. Our center. And without her, well…” He pauses, biting his lip in an attempt to regain control. I feel like a total ass for bringing up an obviously painful topic.
    “Let’s just say that things aren’t the same without her.”
    I inwardly cringe. “I’m sorry to bring up something so painful.”
    He offers a half-smile. “It’s okay.”
    There’s an awkward pause where we’re both just staring at each other. I panic and abruptly stand. “Can I use your restroom? It was a long drive from Knoxville.”
    He scrunches his face, clearly questioning my timing, but doesn’t object. “Down the hall to the left.”
    “Thanks,” I reply as I scoop up my phone and hit pause. “I’ll be just a minute.”
    Once inside, I turn the water on and begin a search of the medicine cabinet and other drawers. It’s not like I think I’m going to find a bag labeled “evidence of wrongdoing” or anything, but even a recently filled prescription for painkillers or syringes could point me in a direction.
    The medicine cabinet is empty save for a tube of travel toothpaste and an old, rusty razor. There isn’t much under the cabinet either, just a couple of spare rolls of toilet paper, a towel, and some toilet bowl cleaner.
    I’m reaching that limit where it’ll look very suspicious that I’m still in here and know I need to leave. I turn off the water, irritated that my search was fruitless, and I’m just about to walk out when something catches my eye. There’s a newspaper sitting on the back of the toilet, and someone has scribbled something in the margins. Without time to sit and read it, I tear off the portion with the writing, fold it, and put it in my