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“That’s the kind of team we’re building here. We’re not perfect, but we’re relentless. When our backs are to the wall, no matter how many mistakes we’ve made, we keep going. We don’t give up, and we don’t give in,” I said. “Now, let’s get out there, make some fucking mistakes, and show them just how goddamn relentless the Hammerheads are!”

“Hammerheads!”

The loud chant rolled through the room like a wave, each voice louder than the last until I couldn’t have picked out a single player, even if I wanted to. They pounded on lockers, stomped their cleats against the tile, and threw their arms around one another. Each shout fed the last, and I let them carry on like that for as long as possible. The camaraderie was needed.

“All right! All right! Get your gear, and get the hell out of here!” I finally ordered and gestured to the door. I stuck to the side as they grabbed their helmets and filed out, taking a few fist bumps to the shoulder as they passed along with a few high fives.

Theo gave me the smallest of nods, which I returned. It took far more restraint than I wanted to admit not to turn around and watch him as he left.

“Hold up, Jude,” I said, catching him by the arm as he tried to walk past. He groaned loudly but didn’t fight me. He stepped aside and waited for the locker room to empty.

“What’d I do?” he demanded the minute we were alone.

“Why do you default to that?” I shot back. He didn’t answer and just stared at me. Grabbing him by the collar of his jersey, I dragged him in for an awkward hug. The gesture was stiff for all of a moment before he half-heartedly hugged me back.

“Mom told you to hug me, didn’t she?” he mumbled into my shoulder.

“Yup,” I said, my voice tight.

“She told me I have to hug you, too.”

“She always finds out if we don’t do the shit she asks us to.” It was damn near magic how she did that.

“Yeah, she does.” He chuckled and pulled away, giving me a mocking salute. “I’ll report back that your hug was dutifully delivered, but you’d better do the same.”

“I’ll think about it,” I replied with a smirk. I yanked open the door and started into the hall. He was quick to follow.

“Ah, fuck you, Brother Coach!” Jude yelled the minute he was in the hall, where anyone could hear. Not giving a fuck, I flipped him off over my shoulder, earning another laugh from him.

CHAPTER 27

Theo

Ifucking sucked. Every pass, I fumbled. Every run, I screwed up. I was so far inside my head that I couldn’t think straight, no matter how hard I tried. Every snap started the same way: don’t screw this one up. And then I’d hesitate just long enough to do exactly that.

I didn’t belong on the field.

It didn’t matter that we were winning against Beachwood. It mattered that the team had to rely on Wyatt because I couldn’t get my shit together. Every time he gained another yard, I felt a rush of relief followed by shame. Shame that it wasn’t me. Shame that I was actually relieved someone else could do it.

Coach Hale was so far up my ass that he could probably find my tonsils. Every time I came off the field, he was in my ear. Lower your pads. Hit the hole. Stop dancing. Trust your blockers. I was trying—fuck, I was trying.

By the second quarter, I wasn’t playing football anymore. I was trying not to make mistakes. There was a difference. One made plays; the other created fear. And unfortunately, the fear of messing up was kicking my ass.

I was letting everyone down, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

At half-time, I couldn’t get to the tunnel fast enough, as I hoped to hell no one would stop me. If I could just disappear for ten minutes, maybe I could figure out how to scrape together whatever confidence I had left.

“Theo.”

The sound of Rhodes’ voice made me stop. Of course, he wanted to talk now. He hadn’t said a word to me all game, which honestly was worse than him yelling at me. I stepped off to the side and waited with him as the last few players disappeared into the locker room. My gaze remained glued on the tile as I sagged against the wall.

“Look at me,” Rhodes said softly when we were alone. I didn’t want to. If I did, he’d know. Rhodes had always been annoyingly good at reading me. Most of the time, it worked in my favor, but this wasn’t one of them. “Theo.”

Frustrated, I inhaled deeply as I forced myself to look at him.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked.

“It’s nothing—”