Noah texted again at seven.I am worried about you, sexy.
Piper didn’t reply.
***
The next morning, Piper opened the text thread, and it had two new messages from Noah.
The first: I don’t know what’s going on but I’m here when you want to talk. The second, sent an hour later: Not pushing. I want you to be OK.
Piper read both of them. Holding back any and all emotion the way he had trained himself his entire life.
He took his time, breathing in deeply.
He’d call Noah tomorrow to end it. But he knew already that he wouldn’t, he had no idea how to end the one thing that had ever brought him joy.
Tank called that morning.
“Breakfast.”
“I have meetings.”
“No, you don’t.”
Piper closed his eyes.
“Fine.”
Tank came by at ten with two coffees and a bag of pastries he had picked up from Chaumont. Tank, being famous, did not have to wait in the insanely long line. He knew Piper loved their pastries, and he knew Piper was not himself lately. He let himself in through the side gate. He set the coffee on the counter, then looked at Piper.
“Eat,” Tank said.
Piper ate and they sat at the kitchen island, and they talked about their game plan for Atlanta and about the new offensive coordinator, and about a woman Tank had dated years prior who turned out to be a stalker, and that she was now headed for prison after stabbing her boyfriend.
Tank didn’t ask about Atherton. Tank never asked about Atherton, because he knew Piper would not answer his questions. That had been the agreement, unstated, for seven seasons. The agreement was that Atherton did not exist inside their friendship.
Tank had a way of putting Piper at ease.
When Tank got up to leave, Piper walked him to the door. Tank paused on the porch, hand on the frame.
“Hey,” Tank said.
Piper waited.
“Whatever it is. When you’re ready. I can’t see you like this anymore.”
Piper nodded. Tank went down the steps, and Piper yelled from the door, “Hey, you know I appreciate you bro?”
Tank turned before he reached his truck. “Don’t get fucking sentimental, you know I love you bro. I just need you to be good.”
Piper froze as his body was overcome with emotion. His ribs ached as he walked toward Tank, “Love you too dude.”
They embraced in the driveway and Piper was able to exhale for the first time in days as the L.A. sun burned the sky.
Chapter Thirty-One: Los Angeles
The doorbell rang at nine p.m.
Piper was in his bed, laptop open, playing film he was not watching.
