Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
We got up before the ass-crack of dawn for her.
COLTON
“Two sugars, right?”
I hand Blair a steaming white mug. Then I hand Beau his. I know how he takes his coffee—black. But now, I want to know everything about her, too.
“Thanks.” Carefully, she takes it. “We only have a few more minutes,” she says. “Look. You can see it coming.”
Blair insisted we get up to watch the sunrise over the ocean. That meant a five a.m. alarm, but YOLO.
Because this is worth it, too.
Carefully, I settle in beside Beau on the double lounger he carried to the dock’s edge. When the alarm sounded minutes ago, we threw on swim trunks, and Blair put on a blue summer dress. We grabbed some fresh towels and made a little bed together to watch this.
We nestle together, balancing hot coffee mugs, but Blair’s too excited. She sits cross-legged by our feet, her gaze eagerly awaiting the giant orange orb like she’s never seen it before, so I glance at Beau.
Yeah, she’s fucking cute. We share the look. Yeah, she’s fucking ours. We half grin. And yeah, we got up before the ass-crack of dawn for her.
But we don’t bitch. We don’t say anything because we’re happy.
I know we—the three of us—won’t be perfect. Hell, it won’t be easy either.
The friendships? Those work. The love? It’s growing. The sex? I’m like a kid in a candy store. Even football, the sport? We’ll win.
But it’s the secrets that are gonna get us.
Yeah, the three of us are smart. We can be discreet and play some things off as just-being-friends, and Blair can find a nice woman to help us…
But who can help me?
How long can I keep my secret from Beau?
How mad will he be?
Worse?
How much will it hurt him?
We watch the sun rise and Blair takes pictures, videos, too. She’s horrible at selfies, but I’ve had too much practice with fans. So has Beau, so we do it. Holding her phone, it captures us, nuzzled together, the sky glowing peacefully behind us while I can’t fight this dark fear.
While they start breakfast and we wait for our session with Dr. Gary, I hide in my bathroom with my phone.
I can’t do this anymore
I have to tell him
Reese
No
We made it this long. He never needs to know
He’s my best friend. I can’t keep lying to him. He deserves to know
Reese
It’s not worth it. You know the stakes
It’s my call
Don’t do this to us
Not once have I had control over this.
At first, it made me furious and enraged, but then I had to get over it. I had to honor Reese’s wishes until lying to Beau became a habit that’s killing me. I used to have my mom. She knew. She gave me advice.
But now?
It’s just me, about to start a life with an honest woman I’m falling for and the man I’ve always loved.
The man I’m lying to.
Blair rubs my arm like she can sense it when I join them for breakfast. “You’re quiet this morning.”
I peck her cheek. “Y’all wore me out.”
“But I thought blonds have more stamina.”
She makes me laugh. “But this blond never had him before.”
I grin, pointing my fork at Beau, and he grins back.
He’s changed. I’ve changed. Our sex rocked our world in the best way.
Yes, I want him to have me, too. It’s my turn, but part of me feels I don’t deserve him. Like I should punish myself.
A phone chimes in the living room. It’s Beau’s. It’s his alarm for our session. “Come on.” He pops up. “Doc will be on in fifteen.”
Beau does his usual, taking over the remote to click on the flatscreen and logging on to our session.
I help Blair clear the dishes while I catch her smirk. It’s devious.
We pile the dishes in the sink while Beau starts cursing, “Dammit!” He aims the remote like a gun. “What the fuck?’ He’s clicking, but nothing’s happening. “Do we have batteries?”
“Here.” Blair opens a side drawer in the kitchen.
But it’s too convenient.
How did she know where the AAs were being stored?
Quickly, Beau changes the batteries to the remote and steps toward the flatscreen, clicking some more. “Goddammit!” He sounds like Coach. His face is getting red like his, too. “Goddamn fucking remote.”
But he looks sexy when he’s mad, so I play along. “Maybe those batteries are dead, too.”
“Here.” Blair fishes for more from the drawer. “Try these.”
She sounds too sweet. She looks too helpful. Yes, our woman is a good one, but she ain’t innocent, and I adore that about her. I like her experience. Actually, I’m damn impressed with the professional working her craft before my eyes.
Beau’s a puppet, and Blair’s pulling his strings.
He rips the remote open again, tossing the innocent batteries to the floor before cramming in another pair.
“Damn,” I tease. “Is someone blowing a gasket over a gadget?”
“No, he’s an expert,” Blair coos like a desperate housewife. “What’s wrong with it, honey?”
Beau clicks the remote at the blank screen, spouting off, “Could be it needs reprogramming, or the infrared sensor has an issue, or another device is causing interference, or maybe it’s a firmware issue?—”
Blair rolls her eyes at his mansplaining. The man prides himself on being a techie when really…
“Or maybe it’s the tape on it?” Blair chirps.
And I fall on the sofa, laughing so hard I cry.
With a devilish smile, she rips off the clear piece she put on the remote’s tip, the one Beau holds, speechless as he realizes he’s been played.
“Now.” She presses the clear tape to his nose. “See if that made your little gadget work.”
He logs on, “I’ll show you how my big gadget works later,” half-smiling, half plotting her demise.
This morning, our session with Dr. Gary focuses on mindfulness and I get it. My body is in top form. I know my craft. I run routes in my sleep.
But my mind?
It’s all kinds of fucked up. Mostly, I’m ecstatic. I can’t wait for our new life. Our new season. But in the back of my mind, my secret looms on the sideline, sitting on the bench, waiting to rush the field.
Waiting to ruin everything.
We make it to our last day, our last session.
We’ve had productive mornings, fun days, and hot nights. Though Blair insisted we abstain these last two.
“Celibacy makes the cocks grow stronger,” she joked, but she meant it, so we just held each other, ignoring our hard-ons.
While she clicks away on her laptop outside, Dr. Gary greets us with a genuine smile.
“Gentlemen, I’m impressed with your progress.” It’s like he’s giving us gold stars, and we’ve earned them. I’m not the same man I was ten days ago. “But tell me how you feel about it.”
“I feel great,” Beau answers. “We’ve cleared the air and our minds. I got my new mantra: it’s just a game. I’m ready to win and?—”
“And I got my best friend back.” It blurts from my mouth.
“Yeah, and that.” Beau smiles, glancing my way. “We’re best friends again.”
Maybe we share a smile too long. Maybe our knees brush too much. Or maybe Dr. Gary is just too damn good at reading minds.
“Will you ever tell others how you’re more than friends?” His tone is gentle—not condescending, but compassionate.
Still, it shocks the shit out of me.
“Say what?” I whip my stare to the screen.
“You’re safe with me,” Dr. Gary assures. “I’d never betray your trust because you deserve it.”
Beau scrubs his face. Glancing at me, terror fills his eyes before he asks the Doc, “How did you know?”
“You told me,” he answers, “in how you wrote about each other. How you care for and love each other. Usually, teammates focus on tactics and blame, but you went straight to the heart. You care about his, and he cares about yours. I won’t pry into how you express your love, but I support it.”
Beau murmurs, “No one can know.”
“We’re not out,” I state the obvious. “We can’t be.”
Dr. Gary nods. I wonder how he’s trained his face to stay so calm while inside; my nerves are blowing bombs.
“I’d never out you,” Doc promises. “Never. Just know I’m here for you if something ever happens. You’re not alone. There are hundreds of players, mostly men, just like you. I can put you in touch with a few of them if you like. They’ve formed a private support group of sorts.”
“In the NFL?” There’s hope in Beau’s voice. “Who?”
“I’ll give you a number,” Doc answers. “It’ll be anonymous at first. Trust needs to be built. But he can be trusted. You just have to earn his.”
“So what do we do in this group?” I ask.
“You talk,” he answers. “You support each other. You share how it feels so you don’t feel so alone. Look. Everything changes, but it doesn’t change fast enough. Most players come out after they retire, if at all. But together, you can get through. It’s always your choice, your life, your career.” He pauses. “Your love.”
I’ve been thigh-tackled. Like the truth has attacked me, grabbing my legs, and I’m trapped as it rolls, slamming me to the ground, flipping my world before I can even react.
“So whatdawedo?” I ask Doc.
“Nothing,” Beau answers. “We stick to our plan.”
“So, we lie?”
My life is a fumble pile. One lie is piling on the other, and I’m at the bottom, trying to breathe.
“Gentlemen,” Doc eases, “perhaps ‘lie’ is not a fair word. If your truth isn’t safe, it’s not a lie to protect it. To protect each other, and that’s all I ask. You’re some of the best players in the league, but you’re even better friends. You don’t have to lie about that. So, be best friends on the field and remember… it’s just a game. It always ends, and life goes on. Right?”
“Right,” Beau answers while gently reaching for my thigh. It’s odd because it’s new, but it’s affirming.
So is Doc. So is knowing we’re not alone. So is the woman waiting for us on a sun lounger.
On our last day, Blair writes, Beau studies our playbook on his iPad and I read Blair’s book, their book.
I need a love story with a happy ending because I sure as hell don’t know if we’ll get one.