Something like hate, p.17
Something like Hate, page 17
part #1 of Chicago Grizzlies Series
My phone vibrates, and I expect it to be Miles, but it’s my mom. I haven’t talked to my parents since my dad left the morning after the game. We never had our breakfast—I refused after that woman had come by our table the night before. I was still angry and knew I wasn’t in the headspace to talk to my dad about the past, so there’s a lot of unfinished business still between us. I’ve been so consumed with Miles, I haven’t addressed it. He’s made it easier to avoid that part of my life.
I send Mom to voice mail, not needing to be in that headspace when I meet with Shelly. Which I’m starting to dread. If she’s not coming back to the Grizzlies, why do I have to go to her house and fill her in once a week? I feel as if I’m playing both sides and I hate it. Plus, it’s my column right now, but I swear she has Mr. Osterman wrapped around her finger.
Descending the stairs from the L station onto the Bucktown streets, I finish my coffee right before I head up to her apartment. I’m tossing the cup in the trash when I see a small note scribbled on the bottom of the cup.
* * *
I’ll be thinking of you all day. ~ M
* * *
God, he is so fucking sweet.
I tear off the bottom of the cup and get off as much of the coffee as I can before putting it in my messenger bag. I can’t imagine all the sweet things he would do for me if we were out in the open. A large part of me wants to find out because I’ve never felt this honored or appreciated by anyone.
I think a part of me knew I’d feel this way two years ago, and that’s why I ran.
Now I’m invested and I want to spend all my time with him. It makes me wonder if I should have kept that wall up.
I press the buzzer to Shelly’s apartment, and she buzzes me up without asking who it is. I come at the same time every week. As much as I hate going, I do love seeing her little guy, Madden. I didn’t realize how fast babies change at that age. Every week when I show up, it’s like a completely different child is waiting for me.
Her door is propped open when I reach her apartment and she’s dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair done and her makeup flawless. It’s like the old Shelly is back.
“Where’s Madden?” I ask.
“He’s with my parents for the night. Otherwise, I would never look like this.” She pours a cup of coffee. “Want some?”
I shake my head. “Just finished one. Can we get started right away? I don’t have a lot of time today.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry, I look forward to our days because it’s some of the only adult conversation I get. What do you have going on today?” She sits on the couch, placing her coffee on the table next to her and crossing her legs on the cushion.
It’s none of her business, but I don’t say that. “I have a luncheon.”
“Well then, let’s get right to it. I have some news that doesn’t have much to do with Sportsverse, but I got this tip from a girl. She thought I was still the writer for the Grizzlies. I guess she was at some bar or something recently and Miles Cavanaugh picked her up.”
My heart bobbles in my throat. I mask my reaction as best as I can. Hopefully I sell it. “I’m sorry?”
“I know, right? Everyone says he’s such a good guy, Mr. Intelligent, but she says he took her back to The Den and they had sex, like, three times. He refused to wear a condom and—”
“Are you sure she’s a credible source? I mean, she wouldn’t be the first woman to make up a story about sleeping with a professional athlete.”
My heart hammers like a drumline. This cannot be true. No way he did that. He’s been with me all the time. I deny my urge to take out the bottom of a cardboard coffee cup and read his message again. But regardless, my heart cracks a little, hearing my worst fear.
“She sent me a picture of herself on his bed.”
A crease forms between my eyebrows. “How do you know it’s his bed? Is he in the picture?”
Please say no. Please say no.
“Well, that’s where you come in. You’re friends with him, right?”
“Not really, and I’ve never been in his bedroom.” My tone is on edge. I’m probably giving myself away.
She picks up her laptop, and a few keystrokes later, she turns it in my direction. Sure enough, the blonde has no shirt on, but the picture doesn’t show her breasts because it’s been censored. But she’s lying on his dark maroon sheets and his glasses are next to her on the nightstand, along with his lamp and the book he’s been reading lately.
I swallow the lump in my throat and pretend not to want to bolt from her apartment so I can go demand answers. “When did she sleep with him?”
“She didn’t give me specifics, just told me it was after a game.”
I do some quick calculations in my head because I’m pretty sure I’ve been with him every night after his home games for weeks. “But it was recently?”
It had to have been, given the book on his nightstand. Regardless though, he told me he hadn’t been with anyone since he arrived in Chicago.
Shelly narrows her eyes. “Why all the questions? I swear that place is like a frat house, the way they bring women in and out. I’m sure if we dig enough, we’d find a story about Cooper too.” She sips her coffee.
“You’d be wrong.” I school my features. “So. It was recently?”
Shelly nods. “I think she said, like, two weeks ago.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. The picture is evidence enough if we can prove it’s his bedroom.”
“It could be staged. There’s no proof it was his place. Not like he’s in the picture or anything.”
Shelly laughs. “For someone who’s so hard on him in your articles, you’re sure giving him the benefit of the doubt on this.”
She’s right, I need to tone down the defensiveness in my voice. “You just hear stories about this all the time. What’s this girl’s angle anyway? Why’d she come to you?”
She ignores my question. “Oh, here’s her other picture that proves she’s actually at Miles’s place.”
“So there is one of him?” No way. Not Miles. He would never sleep with someone and then sleep with me or vice versa.
“No, but she has an angle where you can see a picture of him at graduation with his parents and sister.”
She clicks the button, and there’s the framed photo on his dresser. Him in his blue graduation gown with his Summa Cum Laude sash. I know I’ve seen that photo in his apartment before. Bile rises up my throat.
“Oh.”
A smug look crosses her face, and she nods like I told you so. “One day someone is going to out them all.”
“Can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure. You know where it is. Excuse all the bath toys on the floor.”
I stand, my feet wobbling a bit before I can walk steadily. Once inside, I lock the door and stare in the mirror.
Trust yourself, Bryce. You know this is bullshit. Miles isn’t that guy, and deep down, you know that.
I pull out my phone and look at the calendar for all the Grizzlies’ games. I’ve been with him after every one. The only time I wasn’t with Miles right after was the snowy away game where he was freshly showered and changed when he came over and brought me pizza. But we had just started then, and technically we weren’t in a relationship.
God, we’re not technically in a relationship now. We’ve just been fooling around. We haven’t had a conversation about being exclusive.
But then why am I this hurt by this? If he was just a fuck buddy to me, I wouldn’t want to go over to the stadium and gouge his eyes out with my fingernails.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He didn’t do this. I believe in him. I push aside all that negative shit with my dad. Miles is not like my dad. One woman is enough for him.
I flush the toilet to pretend and wash my hands. I need to get out of here and find Miles.
Shelly has her laptop on her lap when I return, and she looks up. “You okay? You look sick or something.”
I nod. “Yeah, something I ate must not agree with me. I don’t have much from this week anyway. Nothing big to talk about. I was just going to write a piece on what the players’ days are like when they travel, ask the guys about their favorite restaurants in certain towns and stuff.”
“That’s a cute idea. A fluff piece.” Her insult cuts. It’s stuff I wanted to know back when I was just a fan. “Okay, until next week then.”
She’s way more chipper than usual, almost giddy, and I hate that she’s finding some sort of pleasure in Miles bringing a woman back to The Den.
“See you later. Sorry.” I grab my stuff and walk to the door, not saying anything as I leave.
Instead of hopping on the L, I grab an Uber and head directly to the field.
He drops me off, and I stand outside the stadium for a moment. Is this the right place to do this? I’m not sure, but I need to catch Miles before that picture gets released. I know I should trust him outright, but I have to see for myself. My confidence has waned on the ride over here. I have to see his face when I bring it up to put myself at ease.
Walking through the hallways, I find the team in the weight room. I ask Coach Iverson if I can have a word with Miles, with the hopes he just thinks I want a few lines for an article.
I wait in the room I’ve been using as a space to write when I’m here. Miles steps in a few minutes later. His eyes light up at the sight of me. He doesn’t look like a man who’s hiding anything.
“Hey,” he says, then he must realize something is up because he frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“I was just at Shelly’s and…”
“What?” He approaches me, but I put up my hand.
“I need you to be straight with me.”
“Bryce, what’s going on?”
“After the hotel room… were you with anyone else?”
His head rocks back as though I slapped him. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“Because a girl sent Shelly a picture of herself naked on your bed.”
His lips twist and his face turns so red it looks as if it’s going to pop off his head. It was a bad idea to do this here.
Chapter 25
Miles
Today started out so fucking great. I bought Bryce a coffee to surprise her without too many people knowing, although I’m fairly sure the barista recognized me. I hate this sneaking around shit.
But then, just as I’m about to enter the gym at the stadium, Coach Iverson calls me into his office.
“What’s up?” I walk in and take a seat across from him.
“You know Pavin injured himself last week?”
My gut twists because I cannot believe this is happening. Pavin is the strong safety, and I’m the free safety. What changes are they making now?
I nod.
“We’re bringing in Tre Brummer.”
“And?”
He leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath. “We’re moving you to strong and bringing him up as free.”
I sit there with no words for a beat, trying to rein in my emotions. My performance this season has been incredible and now I have to change positions for the new guy? Sacrifice my ability to continue having the year of my life? “Can I ask why?”
“Well, he’s new, and honestly, I’m sure you remember how much more muscle you got when you started in the pros. Tre doesn’t have that yet. We can’t have him down at strong safety.”
So I get screwed. Miles gets screwed again.
He raises his hand before I can say anything. “I get that this isn’t ideal, but it’s only until Pavin is back from his injury. Hopefully he returns before playoffs and you get your position back.”
I’ve spent years developing my ability at free safety. My job is to deflect, to intercept, to stop them from scoring. Strong safety is a hitter, a tackler. That isn’t me. Fucking hell.
“I have no choice?”
He shakes his head. “If I saw any other possibility here, I’d do it. And if something bad goes down and Tre can’t handle our level, of course we’ll be reevaluating. Ronnie is going to look for another safety to maybe trade for. But you know what it’s like for a rookie.”
I stand. “That’s all?”
“Please don’t make a thing out of this, Miles.” He stares at me like my father would.
“I’m fine. Just get the kid on some kind of fitness program where he bulks up really quick.”
“He already started today.”
I nod and walk toward the door.
“I have no doubt you’re going to succeed in this role too.”
I say nothing and leave his office. I head into the weight room, and I swear word has already traveled through the team because they all stare at me.
“What?” I snipe and head over to Damon and Cooper at the bench press.
They both give me the look. The one Lee, Brady, and Chase gave me when I got my trading papers from the Kingsmen. I’d really like to be on the other side of that look one day.
“It’s essentially the same. You’ll have your chance at some interceptions too,” Cooper says.
Tre is across the gym, working with the trainers, and he is small. I understand why the decision was made. I’m just sick of being the one who has to sacrifice.
My trainer calls me over because I’ll need more muscle and bulk to play strong safety.
Everyone keeps their distance from me because I’m a big fucking grump the rest of our workout.
At some point, the door opens and Coach Iverson shouts that I’m needed in the interview room. A little alone time with Bryce is about the only thing that could put a smile on my face today. Maybe she got word and knows I’m upset, wants to check in with me and make sure I’m okay.
I drop my weights and leave the room, trying to school my features so I don’t give away that I’m going to see my girl.
The room that Bryce has been using is a vacant office with a window, so there’s no way we can actually do anything in there, but I just want to be near her. When I open the door, it takes all my willpower not to cross the room and take her in my arms. But she doesn’t look as happy to see me as I am her.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s wrong?”
She swallows. “I was at Shelly’s and…”
“What?” I step forward, but she puts her hand out to stop me.
“I need you to be straight with me.”
If she doesn’t tell me what the hell is wrong soon, I’m gonna lose my shit.
“Bryce, what’s going on?”
“After the hotel room… were you with anyone else?”
It feels as if she just gut-punched me. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
She looks down and back up. “Because a girl sent Shelly a picture of herself naked on your bed.”
Red hot lava flows through my veins. My fists clench, my body tenses. I want to punch something right now because how could she actually be standing here and asking me this?
“And you think she’s telling the truth?”
“No.”
“But you ran over here, pulled me out of a workout to ask me about it. This seems more like a conversation for tonight after both of our workdays are done. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve said you’re never gonna believe this, guess what some guy is saying. But you… you believe her.”
She throws her hands in the air. “No… but I thought maybe it was before we were really together. I mean, we’re not…”
“What, Bryce? What aren’t we?” I’ve felt my tipping point coming for the last week and I’m unable to hold back the hurt that she thinks so little of us.
“We’re sneaking around. It hasn’t been that long. I don’t know how to classify us.”
I rock my head back and laugh. “You know what I would’ve said if you’d asked?”
She says nothing, so I continue.
“I would’ve said you’re my girlfriend. That I can’t wait until I can tell the whole fucking world you’re mine. That’s what I would say. And I sure as shit wouldn’t believe some random guy who probably photoshopped himself into a picture when he says he slept with you.”
“You can understand why I might have thought—”
“No, I can’t!”
Her gaze flies to the window and I lose the rest of my self-control.
“Oh, is someone looking?” I ask. “Maybe I should come back at 3:02. Is that random enough for you?”
“We agreed to be a secret. My job. Your job. We can’t put those in jeopardy.”
My fists clench at my sides. “I’m starting to think you’ll always have an excuse because it gives you one foot out the door. Jesus Christ, do you know how insulted I am that you believe this girl?”
“She was in your bedroom, Miles. She took a picture at an angle that shows a framed photo of you and your family on your graduation day. The book you’ve been reading was on the dresser next to your glasses. It was your bedroom!”
“I don’t know how that’s even possible, but that doesn’t mean I fucked her. I’ve only slept with you since that hotel room and I haven’t been with one other woman since I stepped foot in Chicago. I told you that. What else do I have to do so you’ll believe me? It’s only ever been you.”
A tear slips down her cheek, but she wipes it angrily. “Stop yelling at me then.”
I throw up my hands then put them on my hips. “How did you think I would act when you accused me of fucking around? That I would just be like, ‘Hey, I get it, I do. I’ve given you all these signs that maybe I’m not that into you?’ But I haven’t. It’s just you wanting to keep that wall up between us, so you can always point the finger at someone else. Well, this is on you.”
“What?” Her voice is so small that I take a deep breath to get myself under control.
“I’m walking out of here before one of us says something we can’t take back. I’ll see you tonight at your house, and we’ll talk.”
“No. Either we talk now or never.”
“This really isn’t the time to try to demand control of the situation.” I step back toward the door, my hand on the doorknob at my back.
“If you can’t understand why I was worried and you can’t reassure me without yelling, then I don’t see this ever working out. You’re going to be a professional football player, and I won’t always be able to travel with you. I have to trust you.”
I send Mom to voice mail, not needing to be in that headspace when I meet with Shelly. Which I’m starting to dread. If she’s not coming back to the Grizzlies, why do I have to go to her house and fill her in once a week? I feel as if I’m playing both sides and I hate it. Plus, it’s my column right now, but I swear she has Mr. Osterman wrapped around her finger.
Descending the stairs from the L station onto the Bucktown streets, I finish my coffee right before I head up to her apartment. I’m tossing the cup in the trash when I see a small note scribbled on the bottom of the cup.
* * *
I’ll be thinking of you all day. ~ M
* * *
God, he is so fucking sweet.
I tear off the bottom of the cup and get off as much of the coffee as I can before putting it in my messenger bag. I can’t imagine all the sweet things he would do for me if we were out in the open. A large part of me wants to find out because I’ve never felt this honored or appreciated by anyone.
I think a part of me knew I’d feel this way two years ago, and that’s why I ran.
Now I’m invested and I want to spend all my time with him. It makes me wonder if I should have kept that wall up.
I press the buzzer to Shelly’s apartment, and she buzzes me up without asking who it is. I come at the same time every week. As much as I hate going, I do love seeing her little guy, Madden. I didn’t realize how fast babies change at that age. Every week when I show up, it’s like a completely different child is waiting for me.
Her door is propped open when I reach her apartment and she’s dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair done and her makeup flawless. It’s like the old Shelly is back.
“Where’s Madden?” I ask.
“He’s with my parents for the night. Otherwise, I would never look like this.” She pours a cup of coffee. “Want some?”
I shake my head. “Just finished one. Can we get started right away? I don’t have a lot of time today.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry, I look forward to our days because it’s some of the only adult conversation I get. What do you have going on today?” She sits on the couch, placing her coffee on the table next to her and crossing her legs on the cushion.
It’s none of her business, but I don’t say that. “I have a luncheon.”
“Well then, let’s get right to it. I have some news that doesn’t have much to do with Sportsverse, but I got this tip from a girl. She thought I was still the writer for the Grizzlies. I guess she was at some bar or something recently and Miles Cavanaugh picked her up.”
My heart bobbles in my throat. I mask my reaction as best as I can. Hopefully I sell it. “I’m sorry?”
“I know, right? Everyone says he’s such a good guy, Mr. Intelligent, but she says he took her back to The Den and they had sex, like, three times. He refused to wear a condom and—”
“Are you sure she’s a credible source? I mean, she wouldn’t be the first woman to make up a story about sleeping with a professional athlete.”
My heart hammers like a drumline. This cannot be true. No way he did that. He’s been with me all the time. I deny my urge to take out the bottom of a cardboard coffee cup and read his message again. But regardless, my heart cracks a little, hearing my worst fear.
“She sent me a picture of herself on his bed.”
A crease forms between my eyebrows. “How do you know it’s his bed? Is he in the picture?”
Please say no. Please say no.
“Well, that’s where you come in. You’re friends with him, right?”
“Not really, and I’ve never been in his bedroom.” My tone is on edge. I’m probably giving myself away.
She picks up her laptop, and a few keystrokes later, she turns it in my direction. Sure enough, the blonde has no shirt on, but the picture doesn’t show her breasts because it’s been censored. But she’s lying on his dark maroon sheets and his glasses are next to her on the nightstand, along with his lamp and the book he’s been reading lately.
I swallow the lump in my throat and pretend not to want to bolt from her apartment so I can go demand answers. “When did she sleep with him?”
“She didn’t give me specifics, just told me it was after a game.”
I do some quick calculations in my head because I’m pretty sure I’ve been with him every night after his home games for weeks. “But it was recently?”
It had to have been, given the book on his nightstand. Regardless though, he told me he hadn’t been with anyone since he arrived in Chicago.
Shelly narrows her eyes. “Why all the questions? I swear that place is like a frat house, the way they bring women in and out. I’m sure if we dig enough, we’d find a story about Cooper too.” She sips her coffee.
“You’d be wrong.” I school my features. “So. It was recently?”
Shelly nods. “I think she said, like, two weeks ago.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. The picture is evidence enough if we can prove it’s his bedroom.”
“It could be staged. There’s no proof it was his place. Not like he’s in the picture or anything.”
Shelly laughs. “For someone who’s so hard on him in your articles, you’re sure giving him the benefit of the doubt on this.”
She’s right, I need to tone down the defensiveness in my voice. “You just hear stories about this all the time. What’s this girl’s angle anyway? Why’d she come to you?”
She ignores my question. “Oh, here’s her other picture that proves she’s actually at Miles’s place.”
“So there is one of him?” No way. Not Miles. He would never sleep with someone and then sleep with me or vice versa.
“No, but she has an angle where you can see a picture of him at graduation with his parents and sister.”
She clicks the button, and there’s the framed photo on his dresser. Him in his blue graduation gown with his Summa Cum Laude sash. I know I’ve seen that photo in his apartment before. Bile rises up my throat.
“Oh.”
A smug look crosses her face, and she nods like I told you so. “One day someone is going to out them all.”
“Can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure. You know where it is. Excuse all the bath toys on the floor.”
I stand, my feet wobbling a bit before I can walk steadily. Once inside, I lock the door and stare in the mirror.
Trust yourself, Bryce. You know this is bullshit. Miles isn’t that guy, and deep down, you know that.
I pull out my phone and look at the calendar for all the Grizzlies’ games. I’ve been with him after every one. The only time I wasn’t with Miles right after was the snowy away game where he was freshly showered and changed when he came over and brought me pizza. But we had just started then, and technically we weren’t in a relationship.
God, we’re not technically in a relationship now. We’ve just been fooling around. We haven’t had a conversation about being exclusive.
But then why am I this hurt by this? If he was just a fuck buddy to me, I wouldn’t want to go over to the stadium and gouge his eyes out with my fingernails.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He didn’t do this. I believe in him. I push aside all that negative shit with my dad. Miles is not like my dad. One woman is enough for him.
I flush the toilet to pretend and wash my hands. I need to get out of here and find Miles.
Shelly has her laptop on her lap when I return, and she looks up. “You okay? You look sick or something.”
I nod. “Yeah, something I ate must not agree with me. I don’t have much from this week anyway. Nothing big to talk about. I was just going to write a piece on what the players’ days are like when they travel, ask the guys about their favorite restaurants in certain towns and stuff.”
“That’s a cute idea. A fluff piece.” Her insult cuts. It’s stuff I wanted to know back when I was just a fan. “Okay, until next week then.”
She’s way more chipper than usual, almost giddy, and I hate that she’s finding some sort of pleasure in Miles bringing a woman back to The Den.
“See you later. Sorry.” I grab my stuff and walk to the door, not saying anything as I leave.
Instead of hopping on the L, I grab an Uber and head directly to the field.
He drops me off, and I stand outside the stadium for a moment. Is this the right place to do this? I’m not sure, but I need to catch Miles before that picture gets released. I know I should trust him outright, but I have to see for myself. My confidence has waned on the ride over here. I have to see his face when I bring it up to put myself at ease.
Walking through the hallways, I find the team in the weight room. I ask Coach Iverson if I can have a word with Miles, with the hopes he just thinks I want a few lines for an article.
I wait in the room I’ve been using as a space to write when I’m here. Miles steps in a few minutes later. His eyes light up at the sight of me. He doesn’t look like a man who’s hiding anything.
“Hey,” he says, then he must realize something is up because he frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“I was just at Shelly’s and…”
“What?” He approaches me, but I put up my hand.
“I need you to be straight with me.”
“Bryce, what’s going on?”
“After the hotel room… were you with anyone else?”
His head rocks back as though I slapped him. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“Because a girl sent Shelly a picture of herself naked on your bed.”
His lips twist and his face turns so red it looks as if it’s going to pop off his head. It was a bad idea to do this here.
Chapter 25
Miles
Today started out so fucking great. I bought Bryce a coffee to surprise her without too many people knowing, although I’m fairly sure the barista recognized me. I hate this sneaking around shit.
But then, just as I’m about to enter the gym at the stadium, Coach Iverson calls me into his office.
“What’s up?” I walk in and take a seat across from him.
“You know Pavin injured himself last week?”
My gut twists because I cannot believe this is happening. Pavin is the strong safety, and I’m the free safety. What changes are they making now?
I nod.
“We’re bringing in Tre Brummer.”
“And?”
He leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath. “We’re moving you to strong and bringing him up as free.”
I sit there with no words for a beat, trying to rein in my emotions. My performance this season has been incredible and now I have to change positions for the new guy? Sacrifice my ability to continue having the year of my life? “Can I ask why?”
“Well, he’s new, and honestly, I’m sure you remember how much more muscle you got when you started in the pros. Tre doesn’t have that yet. We can’t have him down at strong safety.”
So I get screwed. Miles gets screwed again.
He raises his hand before I can say anything. “I get that this isn’t ideal, but it’s only until Pavin is back from his injury. Hopefully he returns before playoffs and you get your position back.”
I’ve spent years developing my ability at free safety. My job is to deflect, to intercept, to stop them from scoring. Strong safety is a hitter, a tackler. That isn’t me. Fucking hell.
“I have no choice?”
He shakes his head. “If I saw any other possibility here, I’d do it. And if something bad goes down and Tre can’t handle our level, of course we’ll be reevaluating. Ronnie is going to look for another safety to maybe trade for. But you know what it’s like for a rookie.”
I stand. “That’s all?”
“Please don’t make a thing out of this, Miles.” He stares at me like my father would.
“I’m fine. Just get the kid on some kind of fitness program where he bulks up really quick.”
“He already started today.”
I nod and walk toward the door.
“I have no doubt you’re going to succeed in this role too.”
I say nothing and leave his office. I head into the weight room, and I swear word has already traveled through the team because they all stare at me.
“What?” I snipe and head over to Damon and Cooper at the bench press.
They both give me the look. The one Lee, Brady, and Chase gave me when I got my trading papers from the Kingsmen. I’d really like to be on the other side of that look one day.
“It’s essentially the same. You’ll have your chance at some interceptions too,” Cooper says.
Tre is across the gym, working with the trainers, and he is small. I understand why the decision was made. I’m just sick of being the one who has to sacrifice.
My trainer calls me over because I’ll need more muscle and bulk to play strong safety.
Everyone keeps their distance from me because I’m a big fucking grump the rest of our workout.
At some point, the door opens and Coach Iverson shouts that I’m needed in the interview room. A little alone time with Bryce is about the only thing that could put a smile on my face today. Maybe she got word and knows I’m upset, wants to check in with me and make sure I’m okay.
I drop my weights and leave the room, trying to school my features so I don’t give away that I’m going to see my girl.
The room that Bryce has been using is a vacant office with a window, so there’s no way we can actually do anything in there, but I just want to be near her. When I open the door, it takes all my willpower not to cross the room and take her in my arms. But she doesn’t look as happy to see me as I am her.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s wrong?”
She swallows. “I was at Shelly’s and…”
“What?” I step forward, but she puts her hand out to stop me.
“I need you to be straight with me.”
If she doesn’t tell me what the hell is wrong soon, I’m gonna lose my shit.
“Bryce, what’s going on?”
“After the hotel room… were you with anyone else?”
It feels as if she just gut-punched me. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
She looks down and back up. “Because a girl sent Shelly a picture of herself naked on your bed.”
Red hot lava flows through my veins. My fists clench, my body tenses. I want to punch something right now because how could she actually be standing here and asking me this?
“And you think she’s telling the truth?”
“No.”
“But you ran over here, pulled me out of a workout to ask me about it. This seems more like a conversation for tonight after both of our workdays are done. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve said you’re never gonna believe this, guess what some guy is saying. But you… you believe her.”
She throws her hands in the air. “No… but I thought maybe it was before we were really together. I mean, we’re not…”
“What, Bryce? What aren’t we?” I’ve felt my tipping point coming for the last week and I’m unable to hold back the hurt that she thinks so little of us.
“We’re sneaking around. It hasn’t been that long. I don’t know how to classify us.”
I rock my head back and laugh. “You know what I would’ve said if you’d asked?”
She says nothing, so I continue.
“I would’ve said you’re my girlfriend. That I can’t wait until I can tell the whole fucking world you’re mine. That’s what I would say. And I sure as shit wouldn’t believe some random guy who probably photoshopped himself into a picture when he says he slept with you.”
“You can understand why I might have thought—”
“No, I can’t!”
Her gaze flies to the window and I lose the rest of my self-control.
“Oh, is someone looking?” I ask. “Maybe I should come back at 3:02. Is that random enough for you?”
“We agreed to be a secret. My job. Your job. We can’t put those in jeopardy.”
My fists clench at my sides. “I’m starting to think you’ll always have an excuse because it gives you one foot out the door. Jesus Christ, do you know how insulted I am that you believe this girl?”
“She was in your bedroom, Miles. She took a picture at an angle that shows a framed photo of you and your family on your graduation day. The book you’ve been reading was on the dresser next to your glasses. It was your bedroom!”
“I don’t know how that’s even possible, but that doesn’t mean I fucked her. I’ve only slept with you since that hotel room and I haven’t been with one other woman since I stepped foot in Chicago. I told you that. What else do I have to do so you’ll believe me? It’s only ever been you.”
A tear slips down her cheek, but she wipes it angrily. “Stop yelling at me then.”
I throw up my hands then put them on my hips. “How did you think I would act when you accused me of fucking around? That I would just be like, ‘Hey, I get it, I do. I’ve given you all these signs that maybe I’m not that into you?’ But I haven’t. It’s just you wanting to keep that wall up between us, so you can always point the finger at someone else. Well, this is on you.”
“What?” Her voice is so small that I take a deep breath to get myself under control.
“I’m walking out of here before one of us says something we can’t take back. I’ll see you tonight at your house, and we’ll talk.”
“No. Either we talk now or never.”
“This really isn’t the time to try to demand control of the situation.” I step back toward the door, my hand on the doorknob at my back.
“If you can’t understand why I was worried and you can’t reassure me without yelling, then I don’t see this ever working out. You’re going to be a professional football player, and I won’t always be able to travel with you. I have to trust you.”
