I won’t be one of those new guys who willingly say no when the team tries to include me. I thank fuck it’s not today because I can barely move.
“Yeah, sounds great. And thanks. I’ll be honest with you, I wasn’t sure how y’all would receive me.”
He begins to laugh. “Because of your beef with Crush or the fact you’re openly gay?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Both, I guess, if I’m being honest.”
He doesn’t lose his grin, and this man is good looking in a traditional pretty boy fashion. “Listen,” Dallas starts. “We don’t care if you use us as your muse—needing a release, of sorts.” His smile broadens, and he begins a deep belly chuckle. “No, seriously, you’re the person we need on our team, and we want you here. We don’t care who you fuck as long as you catch passes and run with the ball.”
“Thanks, man,” I reply, but Dallas has more to say.
“And as far as Crush goes, he’s an asshole. We all love the asshole, but he’s just straight up as moody as a girl on her period. Just ignore him. He’ll come around.” We exchange our numbers, and I’m left to my own thoughts. I make the short fifteen-minute drive to my house. Tonight, the pool calls out for me. I pull into my drive, but as I do, my heart rate speeds up when I see Crush blocking my way into my garage, leaning against his truck.
As I pull in next to him, he has his arms crossed, but a twelve-pack of beer sits on his hood. We’ve moved up from the simple six-pack from earlier in the week.
“You know, we shouldn’t be drinking the first week of training, especially with the way you’ve thrown.”
His lips turn into a tight smile. He bestows a one-finger salute my way. “One won’t hurt you, and it surely can’t fuck up my game much more,” Crush admits.
He follows me into my house, and I make my way straight to the back porch without even taking off my sunglasses. Grabbing a beer, I sit under the cabana to shade me from the Nashville sun, and Crush follows suit.
“So...” I sigh. “You’re not here to bitch at me, right? I’ve held up my end of the bargain by playing my best because, as you know, I’ve rocked it this week.”
He flips me off again, then takes a long pull of his beer. “Yeah, I’ve been the putz, and if I don’t figure out what it is, I’m going to lose my starting position.” His demeanor isn’t of the arrogant man I’ve always known on and off the field. His features soften, and I’m rewarded with what not many people see, and it’s the real Christopher Colton.
“So, what can we do to get you past this? Obviously, you hold a lot of hate in your heart toward me.”
He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Here’s the thing, Ry. I don’t hold hate for you. I never have. It’s more hurt that you’d throw us away over something you did without giving me a chance to talk to you about it. You made up your mind I’d let you go. You were my best friend. Hell, I enjoyed being with you more than the woman I married.”
I give off a small grunt because no one liked being around the person I coin as the bane of my existence.
“You were always right about her, of course. I knew you were at the time, too,” he admits.
He’s still a little reserved with me, and I continue to wait, letting him come to me on his terms. It’s what always has worked best for the man I know as Christopher Colton.
4
Crush
Ryder’s silence isn’t awkward. It’s a sign of how well he still knows me. I’m working out my own shit in my head. “Do you think you’ll run away from me again?” I formulate the words, and it’s blunt as his eyes shift to mine. “You can’t use young and dumb anymore as an excuse. Just dumb, but not young.”
At my words, he lets out a little chortle, and something in it makes my stomach flip. Not in the nauseous kind of way, but it’s pleasure-seeking. “And of course you’ll want this,” I point at my lips, but continue, “but these are off-limits.”
“Yeah, look who’s turned into the cocky one over the past six years, asshole,” Ry chides, draining his beer, then pushing to his feet to get us both another one. “One more, then we’re done for tonight, got it?” he insists.
“So you heard Al and I are no more?” Ry hands the beer to me over my head, and his stare stays on me a beat longer than most men would be comfortable with. “Yeah, I know you never liked her, but I guess now I know why,” I jest, and I wonder how far I can tease before it’s taken too far. I decide to hold my punches for now.
He gives me a little nod. “There’s a truth I can’t deny, asshole. I always cared for you, but understood the feelings could never be returned.” He’s not sad. It’s a simple statement he makes and then moves on. “But I would have liked someone for you who wasn’t the devil in disguise. You were her meal ticket. I could sense it the first time we met. It was always about what you could do for her and not the other way around.”
He’s not wrong. He’s described Alison Miller Colton to a T. “But from the shit show of a marriage came Brooklyn Christine Colton, and she is the most important thing in my life.”
“Yeah, she’s adorable, and you’re not at all wrapped around her finger by the looks of it,” he teases.
“Oh, yeah, I lost that fight years ago.” We continue to sit and shoot the shit. This was how it always was with us, and I hope it’s what we can get back to.
The beer I brought over is gone. I sit near the side of the pool, and Ryder is a couple of feet away from me in the same position. “So, tell me, pretty boy?” I begin, sending another dig his way.
“Hell yeah, I’m pretty. No denying it,” Ryder ribs back.
“Yeah, certainly not in those fucking paisley suits you wear.” From his profile, I watch as his Adam’s apple constricts. I can’t ignore it or the sexiness with it when he swallows. Why am I even staring at it? But I avert my gaze. “Anyway, asshole, are we cool? There’s no awkward shit between us anymore?”
“You forgive me for just ignoring you?” Ry asks.
My gaze swings to him with a tight chuckle on my part. “Fuck, man, I knew where you were. I had the means. I was freaked the fuck out, too. If I really wanted to patch it up, I could have found you. Hell, we played every year, and I could have tried then. I guess, I didn’t know what to say.” I pause, and it’s not the whole truth, but it’s all I can articulate at the moment. “I’ve missed you, man. You think you can forgive me, too?”
“Is it really this simple?” In Ry’s question, his eyes don’t leave mine, and I understand what I’ve been missing this entire time.
“Bro, we can make it as simple as we want to make it. You were my best friend through thick and thin. I’ve missed sharing my life with you. Fuck, I want you to get to know my daughter and for us to have beers together whenever I’m bored as fuck,” I say.
“Yeah, man,” he begins as he swings his gaze away from me with a large ass goofy grin on his face. “I’d like that.”