Chapter 9
TD
The cold bites at our cheeks as we run through another red-zone drill, bodies packed tight near the goal line and everyone scrambling to punch the ball in.
We’re a week out from the season starting, and we've come a long way from a month ago—routes tighter, timing sharper—but I still feel an uneasy knot in my gut.
Although, maybe that doesn't have as much to do with my concerns about how we’re going to stack up in our first season and more to do with the situation brewing on the homefront.
Tex and I have managed to put jerk-off gate behind us. He was great about the whole thing, accepting my apology, and not mentioning it ever again.
But there have been some other developments since then that have caused me to look at things, and him, in a different light.
Example one. A few days later, the team found me a small townhouse to move into.
When I told Tex, he deflated instantly and mentioned I was welcome to stay with him, that he was enjoying the company.
Since I was as well, I declined the offer, genuinely moved that he was enjoying our living arrangement as much as I was.
Example two. The way he looks at me, especially during my morning routine.
I have a, uh…unique quirk where I don't like drying off with a towel.
Never have. It feels scratchy and irritates my skin.
So I air dry. If I were living alone, I'd walk around naked.
Since that's not the case, I wrap a towel around myself.
I suspected Tex was checking me out from the very first morning, but then a reality check: why would a gorgeous, charming, friendly twenty-something guy be sizing up a fossil like me?
But I'm pretty sure that, for some reason, he is.
His subtlety has slowly slipped away, and now he downright ogles me, and I like it. A lot.
Example three. We went fishing again last weekend. I felt just as relaxed and had as much fun as I did before. But this time, we had a moment.
Well, we almost had a moment. I think.
A gust of cold air swept over, and I shivered.
Tex noticed, so he poured me a cup of hot cider.
As he handed it to me, our gloved fingers brushed.
And lingered. Longer than necessary. He smiled.
Soft, surprised, unguarded. I smiled back.
He leaned in ever so slightly. I did, too.
And then…the tip-up flag snapped upright, and we broke apart.
What the hell am I supposed to make of all this?
On top of it all, I've got a team to get ready for their first season and a court showdown with my ex-wife set for three weeks from now.
The timing couldn't be worse, but the way it feels when Tex and I are together, sipping our coffees in the morning, having dinner at The Leafy Nook as we talk about our days, it feels so good, so settled.
It's dangerously addictive. Dangerous because it would be completely inappropriate to pursue it.
I'm a walking, talking red flag mess. Not to mention, way too old for him.
I’m staring past the end zone, way too in my head than warranted given nothing has actually happened between Tex and me, when a throat clears right beside me. I blink to find Kimball and our trainer, waiting. How long have they been there?
The trainer tilts his head. "Coach, we wrapping up for today?"
I snap myself out of my Tex haze and answer, "Yeah. We’re done."
The trainer leaves. Kimball stays. "Everything okay?"
I'm fine. Just developing wildly inconvenient feelings for your younger brother. No biggie.
"Yeah. I'm good."
"Glad to hear it." He slaps me on the back. "We all need to be on our A game. You excited for next week?" he asks, eyes scanning the field. "Road game or not, it’s finally real."
Not sure I'd use the word excited. I am eager to kick off the season, but there's a pull in my gut I can't shake, and I suspect it has something to do with traveling and being away from Tex.
Unable to reveal any of that to Kimball, I go with, "Ask me after we haven’t embarrassed ourselves in front of a hostile crowd."
Tex is sad.
He's been sad all morning.
How can I tell?
His ogling-over-coffee wasn't up to his usually high ogling standards, he's been hovering near me as I've been packing, and now he's following me out onto the balcony like a lost puppy.
But it's the lack of smiling that's the biggest tell and the thing that concerns me the most. Talk about a punch to the gut.
"Is something wrong, Tex?" I finally ask the question I should have asked two hours ago over coffee.
"No." He shrugs. "Yes?"
"What's up?"
He drops his head. "It's going to sound weird."
"You work with dead people," I say softly. "I already assume it's going to sound weird."
Thankfully, my attempt at humor works, and I'm treated to my first proper smile of the day. He tilts his head up until our eyes align. "Even though you're only going for a few days, I'm really going to miss you."
I don't know if it's his unfiltered honesty or the tender way he speaks, but my heart clenches, and I'm struck by an impossible-to-resist urge to touch him. So I do, cupping his cheek in my palm. "I'm going to miss you, too."
A half smile rises on his lips. "You are?"
"Of course. I really like you, Tex."
"I—I really like you, too, TD. Even though you're a weirdo who pretends not to know what his initials stand for."
I grin, and even though we're just two guys standing on a balcony above a funeral home on an overcast Thursday morning, and this isn't some big, romantic moment, a rush of emotions surges through me. Because for some reason, it feels like a big, romantic moment.
"Can we stay in touch?" he asks.
"I'd like that."
"Do you—do you know how to make video calls?"
A chuckle accompanies my grin. "I'll have to Google it, but I'm sure I can figure it out."
My ride pulls up on the street below, and since my ride also happens to be his brother, I remove my hand and create some distance between us.
We walk down together. Tex and Kimball exchange hugs and a few words. I'm stuck offering a wave, which is the safer option so as to not arouse suspicion, before I climb into Kimball's SUV, and we take off.
My eyes stay glued to the mirror, watching as Tex gets smaller and smaller in the rearview, but bigger and bigger in my heart.