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And yeah, I’d really like to get her naked. I legit can’t stop thinking about fucking Annabel. The fantasies I have in bed and in the shower have gotten intense. I was thinking about it out on the creek, too, and I have a funny feeling Annabel knew it.

She knew it, and she liked it, because she’s been having those fantasies, too.

“If you’re trying to break the record you set at the combine, that’s a dumb fucking idea,” Samuel says, jerking me back to the present. “I don’t need to remind you you’re not twenty years old anymore, right?”

Sitting up—yeah, I’m definitely gonna feel that tomorrow—I shoot him a glare. “I got pretty close, didn’t I? Twenty-three reps at twenty. Twenty-one reps at thirty-six. Remind me again how many you can do?”

Samuel pops his shoulders, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “At 225? I ain’t even gonna mess with that shit. That’s how you end up in the hospital with a broken face. You wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” I wipe my eyes with the hem of my shirt. I’ve gone full redneck today: old tee with the sleeves and neck cut off, ratty athletic shorts from my pro days. A beard that’s bordering on Gandalf territory.

I’m a fucking mess. I’m fighting too hard. Or not enough.

I don’t know anymore.

All I know is I rubbed one out in bed this morning thinking about Annabel on all fours, moaning while I hammered into her from behind.

Samuel nods at the bar. Two 45-pound plates on either end. “Whatever it is you’re trying not to think about by working out like a lunatic.”

I get up, swiping my water bottle off the floor, and tilt my head back. I squeeze water into my open mouth.

“I had a really great time at the creek with Annabel yesterday,” I say.

Samuel grabs two enormous dumbbells. It’s arm day today, and we’re in full beast mode. Well, I am. Samuel’s just Samuel, patiently making his way through his workout. “And that’s a bad thing because?”

“You know why,” I snap. “I thought she and I could just go back to how we used to be before we—”

“Gave each other love bites.”

I roll my eyes, hopping onto a treadmill. “But Samuel, it’s better. Our friendship. Better than ever. Different. But deeper, I guess.”

“Yep,” Samuel pants as he curls one arm, then the other. “See, I don’t know why you’re making this so complicated. Y’all love each other as friends. Then y’all kissed or humped each other or whatever, and you loved that, too. Why not make it official?”

“Because.” I turn the treadmill up to 10 MPH. “Maybe I should leave the resort. Fly to, I don’t know, fucking Fiji or something. As far away as I can get.”

“Fiji’s lame. Plus, if you’re hurtin’ over a girl, you need distraction. Action. Not a quiet beach. What about Vegas? I can give my casino host at Encore a call. He’ll set you up with a suite and some blow. That’ll make you feel better, just like all those reps did.”

I fling my water bottle across the room. Samuel watches it sail right past his head and smiles. “So close.”

“You’re really making me regret inviting you over.”

“Running away from your problems isn’t going to solve them, Beau. C’mon, you’re smarter than that. Tell me what you mean by ‘deeper’.”

“Leave.”

“I swear I’m not making any kind of innuendo. Not yet, anyway.”

My lungs burn as I pump my legs and arms faster to keep up with the increase in speed. “Bel—she’s not afraid to be vulnerable. She’s not in a great place, but she’s not letting that stop her from going after what she wants. I don’t want to say too much, because it’s her call what she shares and who she shares it with.” I’m panting now too. “But it’s made me realize just how afraid I am. Of everything. Makes me wonder…”

“What would happen if you let yourself believe things just might be okay, too?”

My heart twists. “Yeah. Something like that. Although I’m not going to get better, so….”

“You don’t know that. Whatever happens, you still deserve a full life. Same as all of us. We all deserve a shot at happiness, Beau.”

But that’s just it. How could Annabel be happy caring for me when my brain really starts to go downhill?

It was really hard on Mama, caring for my dad. Our house was not a happy place back then. In fact, after Daddy died, the first thing I did was build my mom a new one. She needed a fresh start. We all did.

I don’t want to think about it. So I focus my attention on my brother instead. He’s curling so much weight I can almost feel the pain in my own biceps, watching him.

He’s been tested for possible CTE, same as me, but he isn’t showing the signs I was at his age. He also played a different position—quarterback—and while he definitely took some nasty hits, he didn’t get pummeled nearly as often or as hard as I did. Thank God.

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