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Knowing that didn’t stop the words from hurting.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” I repeated.

I told myself there was no point borrowing trouble from a future that hadn’t happened yet. Too many variables lay between here and the draft—too many things neither of us could predict.

That kind of uncertainty didn’t inherently bother me. Give me enough information and enough time, and I could build contingencies for almost anything.

But this was different.

What would I do if we got to that bridge and Theo’s future didn’t have room for me? Not in the way I wanted it to?

CHAPTER 90

Theo

Iknew I’d screwed up. Not because Rhodes had said anything—though that almost would’ve been easier. He’d done the exact opposite and told me we’d cross that bridge when we got there, all while making it sound like my answer hadn’t bothered him at all.

But I knew Rhodes. I’d caught the change in his body language when I said I didn’t want to screw up my chance with the NFL. He’d been hurt, and somehow, knowing he’d tried so hard to hide it from me only made me feel worse.

I sat cross-legged near the foot of the guest bed while Jude lounged against the headboard and Wyatt sprawled out on the floor. They were talking about… something. I was too stuck in my head to focus on them. Rhodes still wasn’t home, which meant I’d had far too much time to replay the conversation without him there to distract me.

The problem was, I still didn’t know the right answer.

Of course I wanted Rhodes. That wasn’t even a question.

But I wanted football too. I’d worked my ass off to get to this point and knew I was good enough to go pro.

Was I supposed to throw all of that away to prove I loved him? Just the thought made my stomach twist uncomfortably. Rhodes hadn’t asked me to choose. In fact, he’d gone out of his way not to ask me to choose. Unfortunately, that only made me want to give him a better answer even more.

I dragged both my hands down my face and groaned, tipping my head back against the bed. Jude’s foot bumped my head twice to get my attention.

“That sounded existential,” he commented.

“It feels like it,” I grumbled. Honestly, that was putting it mildly.

“Is it a sexual existential crisis?” Wyatt asked, looking in my direction. “Or a regular existential crisis?”

I frowned.

“Why are those my only options?” I demanded.

“I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “I figured those were a good starting place.”

“Well, they’re not… technically.” Okay, maybe I was in a regular existential crisis, but his question was still weird.

“Then why don’t you tell us what is wrong so we can give you our ever-brilliant advice?” Jude said.

I sighed at his suggestion. That was so much easier said than done. There was no way to explain why my conversations with Rhodes had gone so poorly without explaining Rhodes. And while Jude had figured us out, Wyatt was still blissfully unaware that I was dating and hopelessly in love with our head coach.

Which was probably information my other best friend deserved to have, especially since Jude already did. Leaving Wyatt out felt increasingly awful.

Shit, this was long overdue.

“Okay, but I need to tell you something first,” I said, looking at Wyatt. His expression immediately shifted into something of exaggerated suspicion.

“If you’re about to tell me that you’re in love with me,” he began, “I appreciate it, but I don’t reciprocate it.”

“Oh, my God!” I laughed despite myself. Jude’s loud laughter echoed mine. “What the hell is wrong with you?”