Tiebreaker (It Takes Two 2)

The shower in his master bathroom saw some action. So did the stairs. Eventually, we made it to his king-size bed, where we’ve been ever since.

“Why didn’t you come find me…explain what happened?”

Up on an elbow, he looks down at me with the relaxed look of a man who’s been industriously making up for lost time.

“And say what?” His fingers patiently explore every curve, every peak and valley of my body. They briefly take my attention with them. “Sorry I made a fool of you in front of the entire town, but I did it for your own good?” He gives me a quick headshake. “I was goin’ nowhere.”

I stop his hand when it reaches my heart and curl my fingers around his.

Staring where they rest, he says, “It took me a long time to figure out who I was after football and you had the world at your feet.” He exhales loudly, the sound hopeless, as if he’d thought about it a million times and still couldn’t reconcile those two facts. “You were doing well. You looked…happy.” His unwavering gaze locks onto mine and won’t let me go. “Someone once told me, when you love someone, really love them, you do what’s best for them. Even if it means what’s worst for you.”

What a beautiful idiot. He actually believes it. He actually believes I was better off without him.

“That’s beautiful––and stupid. I wasn’t happy, not really. There was always something missing. You weren’t only punishing yourself, you were punishing the both of us.”

It’s not an accusation. It’s a fact told without animosity. I’m all out of anger––not a drop left. All that’s left is the sad realization that we both stumbled through the last decade without really living.

“I used to look for you in the stands,” I admit. Too many things left unsaid caused a lot of unnecessary heartache in the past and I don’t intend to do a repeat of that horrible experience. Seen that movie, don’t like how it ends. “One time I even thought I saw you.”

He gives me a long look filled with sympathy and understanding.

“I used to imagine you watching me, cheering me on.” My voice cracks, the floodgates opening wide. I quickly wipe away the tears streaking down my temple and he helps. “I meant it when I said those wins weren’t nearly as sweet.”

He moves on top of me, settles between my legs. Instinctively, my hips press up.

“I was cheering you on.” In one smooth motion he buries himself to the root and stills. “I’ll be in your corner for the rest of my life––no matter what.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Noah

Sometimes, to save the one you love, you have to break their heart. It didn’t make sense to me at the time. Truthfully, it sounded ass backward and I’ve always been a straightforward guy. Fight for your country, respect your parents, help those less fortunate, and love one woman. Life seemed pretty simple to me.

It took me a decade to realize that life is all kinds of fucked up shades of right and wrong. After my dream of playing professional football ended, my life spiraled out of control pretty quickly.

Maren tried to help pull me out of the depression I was sinking into. Dane and Jermaine did their best––they all did. But I didn’t want to be helped. My friends were on their way to becoming superstars. Dane was drafted by the NY Gladiators. Jermaine by the Kansas City Chiefs. And I was back home, living in an empty house with no prospects and no plan b.

After a particularly heavy night of drinking I found myself at Rowdy’s around closing time. I was passed out in a corner booth when I felt a big calloused hand slap me awake. I forced my swollen eyes open to find Ronald sitting across from me, expression grim.

Rowdy was practically family to me, a rock after my parents died. Someone I could lean on. He made all the arrangements for the funeral while I was still in the hospital. I owed that man. I loved that man. I would’ve done anything for him no questions asked.

Hunched over in the booth as he was, he still looked as big as a mountain. His mere physical presence alone was enough to make anyone sit up straight and pay attention. With his elbows resting on the table, he laced his hands together and simply stared, those bright blue eyes burning through me. He had a way of looking at you like he was peeling back your skin to examine your true intentions.

“You know I love you like a son.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know why I was apologizing, but I had the wherewithal to know I should be apologizing for something.

“You’ve had a tough couple of years. I know it hasn’t been easy.”