The Tight End (Red's Tavern 6)

Breakfast was a feast. The French toast was the best I’d ever had, and he had also cut up a bunch of fresh strawberries for a topping. The bacon was perfectly crisp, with plenty of scrambled eggs and hot sauce on the side.

When we were done, Logan reached over to grab my hand. We shared a silent moment, and we both knew what it meant. He knew today was hard for me. This day had been looming like a dark, silent mountain ahead of us for the past couple of weeks.

“You know it’s going to be okay, right?” Logan said quietly. “You’re going to play your heart out. And love every minute of it.”

I nodded once, squeezing his hand. “I know,” I said. “I just wish I could stop thinking about the fact that it’s the last game ever. It hurts. So fucking bad.”

His gaze was sympathetic. “Does it help if you think about the fact that the tradition will go on, next year and every year after that?”

“A bit,” he said. “I love the younger guys on the team. In a couple of years, I know they’re going to be even better than me and Vance. They’ll outshine us easily. But… my life has been football forever. Forever. And I don’t know what it’s going to be without it.”

When I thought about it too hard, it crashed over me like a wave of uncertainty.

I really had no idea what the future held. Logan knew exactly what he wanted—grad school, a PhD, then becoming a professor.

“I know it has to feel so damn weird,” Logan said. “I can’t imagine.”

“I’m envious of you, you know,” I said.

He quirked an eyebrow up. “No way.”

I nodded. “Both of us have always known what we’ve wanted. For you, it was becoming a professor. For me, it was football. But now I don’t know what else I’m going to do.”

“You’re going to be Brody fucking Bryant,” Logan said. “Strong as hell, the kindest person I’ve met, and ready for anything the world has to offer.”

I puffed out a breath. “You are so damn sweet,” I said.

He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m just telling it like it is.”

The day passed by mostly in a blur. After breakfast, I headed out to meet up with the team and get prepped for the game, which started in the early afternoon. We were playing the Cobalts from the University of Kansas City, who were definitely going to put up a good fight. As we piled into the locker room, the team was as rowdy as ever, knowing that it was the last game. Before long we were channeling the tension into energy, laughing and giving each other shit.

It was almost like I could temporarily forget that it was the last time we’d ever all be together like this before a game.

Vance came up to me, wiping away a small tear on his cheek after laughing so much. “This is so fucking weird, dude,” he said, shaking his head and letting out a long breath.

“Tell me about it.”

“I’ve watched the other seniors graduate over the past few years and it was always sad, but I never imagined what it actually felt like. How fucking strange it feels.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “I’m on autopilot, today. It’s totally surreal.”

“Well, we’re going to make this game amazing,” Vance said, giving me a fist bump.

“Sure as hell are,” I agreed.

“And then we’re going to party tonight like no one’s ever seen!”

He hooted as he made his way back across to Mike, and soon, Coach Baylin arrived and we started talking actual strategy for the game. Coach wasn’t an emotional guy, and I didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary from him tonight. He was here for the football, and from this moment on, I needed to be, too.

I wanted to play the best game I could.

And I wanted Logan to see it, sitting in one of the front rows of the bleachers, cheering me on even though he only understood half of what was going on in the game.

Just a few hours later, the game was in full swing. Halftime had just ended, and we poured back out onto the field.

Anxiety gnawed inside my chest.

We were down. Right now, the score was thirteen to nothing, with the Cobalts winning handily. It didn’t feel fair, that I’d be so lost and adrift in the last real football game of my career.

I wanted this win so badly. But my head felt like it was swimming.

The third quarter passed by way too quickly. We managed to get one touchdown, but we botched the extra point and only ended up with six. We tried for a couple more plays that ended up going to shit, and when I had the ball, I could never manage to take it all the way. Vance kept giving me words of encouragement like little prayers under his breath, but it wasn’t working.