AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah,” he replied. “We do.”
When we walked away, all I could think about was that for the first time in my life, I couldn’t wait for the football season to be over, because then I got to have him every fucking day.
25
WHITT
The locker room after our final game of the season against Minnesota was a madhouse. Players, reporters, coaches, and staff were all over the place, and the air resonated with whoops and laughter.It wasn’t our first time going to division finals, and it wasn’t even our first time going up against the Rush in the finals, but given everything that had happened this season and the scrutiny we were under, the pressure to hit peak performance from here on out had exploded exponentially. At least for Tucker and me.
I showered and dressed quickly, then tried to sneak out as stealthily as possible because I was exhausted. As I walked down the hallway, one of the open offices caught my eye, and I peeked in to find Houston hunched over his desk, brows etched with concentration as he stared at his computer screen.
“You’re either watching some really engrossing porn with plot or…”
He glanced up with a smirk. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been remotely interested in porn, much less needed it.” He gestured me inside. “I’m watching Cullen’s game against Jacksonville.”
“Yeah? Prepping for our match? Looking for weak points?”
Houston chuckled. “No. I do this with all of his games, go back and scrutinize his performance.” He frowned. “Shit, that sounds weird when I say it aloud. It’s just a thing I do in case he wants to talk more in-depth about shit so we’re on the same page. Plus—” A hint of pink touched his cheeks. “—I just like watching him play.”
I dropped into the chair across from the desk. “Does it get weird sometimes? Like, do you dissect each other’s performances?”
“It never gets weird, oddly enough.” Houston chuckled, then seemed to consider. “I’m not coaching him, you know, and he’s not coaching me. He for damn sure doesn’t need me coaching him. We’re…appreciating each other, connecting, sharing. You and Tuck don’t do that?”
“Mostly, we just smack-talk each other, but while the inquiry was happening, we were scared to even breathe a word about football, terrified somehow we’d be overheard and assumed to be cheating.”
Houston nodded. “Understandable. You holding up okay?”
I chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that so much in my life.”
“The team cares about you. Tucker for damn sure does.”
“I know.” I fiddled with the zipper on the gear bag I’d dropped beside me. “Does all of this ever get to you and Cullen?” I waved a hand around. “The games, the pressure, the competition. The distance?”
“It did at first, yeah.” Houston closed his laptop and settled back in his chair. “I was afraid to get too invested, afraid it would all be taken away from me or I’d get blindsided somehow, like with my knee. Just going about my business, and boom, my life would be upended all over again—which it was. And that did happen but in a good way this time.” His fond smile made me miss Tucker all the more, but it would be another week before we could see each other again, and this time, it would be on the field first.
“Yeah, all of that. Same.”
“The thing is, I think if you love someone, if you put them ahead of everything else, all of those tough choices you think you’ve got to make? That you stress the most about? They kinda make themselves. You ever felt for anyone else the way you feel for Tucker?”
“Nope. It’s scary as fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s the investment part. How many goddamn financial advisors have you had telling you how to invest and when? But the investments that really matter, the ones that happen in our lives? They’re the ones that seem the riskiest, and yet they’re the ones that’ll have far more of a return in the long run.”
I smiled. “You saying you think all that ‘love conquers all’ bullshit is true?”
Houston cracked up. “I guess I am. But don’t tell Garrett or Cullen. I’ll never hear the end of it, considering the amount of shit I’ve given them over the years.” He sobered. “You don’t need me to coach you, on the field or off, Patrick. You know what to do. Just keep your head down, do your goddamn best on the field, and know that the real prize is what’s happening after the game. You do that, I think everything will work itself out.”
I sure fucking hoped so.
* * *
On the dayof our match against the Rush, I arrived to find Candice, Leon, and my parents waiting just outside the entrance to the locker rooms, Candice wearing a cheesy grin.
“Surprise!” she and my mom said in unison when I got closer.
My dad reached out, squeezing the hand I extended automatically when he did, still in shock. “Son,” he greeted me with a nod.
“I thought you all were halfway across the world closing some deal,” I said, still confused.
