The Tight End (Red's Tavern 6)

But Logan was something else entirely. I got it, finally. He was starting to become my rock. A person who was there for me always. Who totally believed in me. Who cared about me in a way I’d never been able to care about myself.

He was teaching me so many things. Teaching me how to care for someone, again.

Teaching me how to commit.

Teaching me that I was somebody, even off the football field.

I concentrated that strength to give it my all, right here, in my last moments playing football.

We broke the huddle and I got into position, trying to orient my body so that the pain was a little lessened. It hurt, but I could tell that nothing was broken. I’d broken a rib before. This wasn’t that bad. It might end up taking a few weeks to start feeling normal again, but I’d be able to get through it. Right now, I kind of felt like I could get through anything.

The ball launched backward and Mike caught it, moving back a little. He was light on his feet as I fanned out to one side, allowing plenty of room between me and everybody else.

He passed it to Benson beside him. The attention was over there, now, on the other side of the field, as I moved back closer to the edge.

Nobody expected me to be making a run for it. Everyone knew I was hurt. There was no way the Wolves would rely on me now.

But they did.

I caught the ball as it flew in toward me, and I tucked it like it was a precious fucking piece of gold.

And then I ran. I ran through the pain, the panic, and the uncertainty. I ran knowing that at any moment, I’d probably get knocked to the ground.

When the red endzone appeared underneath my feet, it barely felt real. I made the touchdown, and all I could hear was the roar of the crowd, losing it in the stands. It had worked. It had actually fucking worked. The side of my body definitely didn’t feel great, but adrenaline surged through me, and right now, I didn’t even care.

We only needed one more point to be in the lead. And minutes later, Mike made that happen. I watched, proud as ever, as he got us three points. Smooth and easy.

The Cobalts only had two more minutes on the clock to get another score, and we worked like hell to block them from it. Time ticked down, and we tackled one of their receivers well before he ever made it to the endzone.

I swore I’d never heard a crowd cheer so loud in all my years of playing. It was like a million fireworks had gone off all at once. It was only a moment before I found myself at the center of a big ball of hugs, with Vance closest to me, making sure not to hug me too tight against my side.

“We fucking did it!” I heard Mike saying from somewhere beside me.

“Wolves forever!”

“It’s all because of you, Bryant!”

“Hell, no,” I shouted. “It’s all because of Mike.”

“I’m so proud,” Coach Baylin was saying from somewhere in the giant mass of people. “So, so proud of you all.”

It was the end of a journey.

I could still remember the early days of being on the Wolves. When I’d worried what half of my team even thought about me being out as gay. I used to even worry what Coach thought, since he was definitely the strong, silent type.

But over the course of my time on the Wolves, I’d realized I was in one of the most welcoming groups I’d ever had the privilege of being in.

I felt the back of my throat tightening already. We still had the afterparty to go to, and I knew I’d still be hanging out with my team next semester.

It would just never be like this again.

When we finally broke off from our huge hug, the crowd was still going wild, now streaming down onto the field in a rush of excitement and congratulations. I swallowed over the lump in my throat as I scanned and scanned the throngs of people, looking for Logan. Finally, from behind two big men, he appeared, his mop of sand-colored hair shining under the bright lights like a halo.

Fucking gorgeous. Fucking perfect.

And even though I felt adrift in that moment, knowing that everything in my world was about to change, I was happy.

17

Logan

“The champion himself!”

“Let’s go!”

“He’s here! He’s here!”

As Brody and I walked in the front doors of the afterparty, every single person congratulated him. As Mike, Vance, and a few other players started clapping in unison and doing one of their pre-game chants, I hung back, letting Brody walk in ahead of me. I joined in the clapping, a big, stupid grin spreading across my face.