Free Cheap Shot by Cheryl Douglas

had before: meaning. That’s why I started High Rollers. I wanted people
to look at me and see that I’d accomplished something big, that my life meant
something, that I’d left my mark.” He stopped talking when he realized she was
staring at him.
    “Why do you feel you needed High Rollers to
give your life meaning?”
    “My old man went out feeling like no one
gave a damn about him.” He lowered his head and ran a hand over his hair. “He
was a middle school science teacher. Most kids hate science at that age. When
they had a substitute teacher instead of him, they were always thrilled.”
    “That’s kind of the way it is for
pre-teens, isn’t it?” Sela asked. “The real teacher’s away, and the kids think
it’s party time?”
    “Yeah, but my dad felt like his life didn’t
matter. He went into teaching to make a difference in those kid’s lives, but
most days, he felt like he was more of a hindrance than a help. Most of them
didn’t like the subject, so they didn’t like him. After ten years, the feeling
was mutual. He said dragging his butt out of bed most mornings was a chore.”
    “You’ve never talked much about your
father,” Sela said. “Did he suffer from depression?”
    “I don’t know,” Jaxon admitted. “As a kid,
I just assumed that’s the way he was. He’d spend a lot of time in his workshop,
and when he was inside, he’d have his nose buried in a newspaper or grading
papers.” Jaxon could still picture him at the dining room table with his glasses
sliding down his nose, reading the evening paper from cover to cover and never
interacting with anyone.
    “Did you ever ask your mother if he had a
history of depression?”
    “Yeah.” Jaxon sneered. “You know what she
said? That he’d been a basket case for as long as she could remember.”
    Sela laid her hand over his. “I’m sorry,
Jax. That’s really harsh.”
    “Yeah, but that’s my mom for ya. She
doesn’t think about how her words might impact people. She just says whatever’s
on her mind.”
    Sela flinched. “I know the feeling. My
mother’s the same way.”
    Jaxon assumed Sela was thinking about what
her mother had said about their relationship. He waited until the waitress
stopped by to take their order and left before he said, “Would you think I was
a terrible person if I admitted that I overheard your conversation with
Sheldon? I know what your mother said about our relationship.”
    Her face tightened as spots of color
appeared on her cheeks. “I wish you hadn’t heard that.”
    “It wasn’t true.” He reached for her hand.
“You were always so strong and independent. That’s why I was attracted to you.
That’s what made it so hard for me to walk away.”
    “I didn’t feel strong when we were
together,” she said, averting his gaze. “I’m not proud of how vulnerable and
needy I felt then.”
    “What are you talking about?” He wanted to
pull her into his arms when he saw her shoulders slump.
    “I loved you so much.” She sucked in a
shaky breath. “I just wanted you to love me back. I feel like I wasted so much
time obsessing over how I could get you to say it, or more importantly, how I
could make you fall in love with me.”
    “Sweetheart…” He hesitated when she pulled
her hand away. “I was an idiot for not appreciating what I had with you—”
    “Sorry, guys,” their waitress, Jean, said.
“I meant to give you this earlier, Sela.” She handed Sela a folded slip of
paper.
    Sela read the note, her lips forming an O.
“Oh wow, it’s from Riley. I haven’t thought about him in ages.”
    “I mentioned to him that you’re working
here now,” Jean said with a grin. “He seemed really excited about it. Did y’all
have a thing?”
    The manager had just hired Jean a few
months ago, so she didn’t know about Jaxon’s history with Sela. He tried to
remind himself it wasn’t her fault as he fought the urge to lash out at her.
    Sela glanced at Jaxon, looking uneasy. “We
went