Chapter 27 #2
“For now? He’s suspended,” he says. “Indefinitely. No practice, no meets, no team activities until the administration decides what to do. I’m going to be straight with you, Beckett.
” His gaze meets mine, unflinching. “If the Jamison family pushes this the way I expect they will, there’s a good chance that Mr. Miller will be expelled. At best, he’ll lose his scholarship.”
I hear the words, but they don’t quite land. They hover in the space between us like smoke.
Brody is going to be expelled. There’s no way the Jamison family won't throw their weight around.
If I could have just swallowed my pride and my jealousy and listened to my gut, I could have stopped him. The moment I saw the pain in his eyes and the tears tracking down his face, I knew something was wrong. I should have reached out, held him back, made him talk to me.
But talking was always his thing, and I was too much of a chickenshit to let anyone see me show another man affection. Because God forbid another man reach out and touch someone’s shoulder or comfort them.
I want to be holding him right now.
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask Coach McCoy, hating how small my voice sounds.
Coach studies me for a long moment, something like regret in his eyes. “Right now? Stay out of it. Let me talk to the powers that be. Let things cool down. The last thing we need is more fuel on the fire.”
I understand the thinly veiled warning. You don’t want to get caught in the crossfires.
Stay out of it.
Right. Sure. Okay.
I nod anyway. “Yes, sir.”
He claps a hand once on my shoulder, then lets it fall. “Start rallying the team towards the bus. I’m going to talk to Nebraska’s admin about what we can do to track Miller down.”
Brody still hasn’t returned. I was too embarrassed to ask housekeeping for fresh sheets this morning, so I’m lying on his bed watching the minutes and hours tick by on the red glowing numbers of the digital alarm clock.
I’ve been lying here since we got back to the hotel.
At some point, the last rays of light disappeared, leaving only blackness outside the window I’m staring out of.
Was it really less than twenty-four hours ago that we were lying here, tangled up together? Less than twelve since I woke up with him next to me.
When I close my eyes, I can pretend I still feel his body heat next to me, especially when I press my face into his pillow and breathe in whatever lingers of his scent.
My hand runs over the invisible indentation of where he was lying on his stomach with his face buried in a pillow.
He was still asleep when I woke up, so I had time to just look at him, at all his muscle and tan skin on display as I slowly peeled the sheet down his body until it rested just below the perfect round globes of his ass.
My first impulse when he started to stir was to jump out of bed and lock myself in the bathroom to get ready for the day. To go back to pretending there was nothing between us.
Instead, I leaned over and kissed his shoulder, then trailed my lips down his spine.
“I don’t think we have time for that kind of wake-up, but I’ll most definitely take a raincheck,” he said, voice gravelly and eyes still shut. I hummed and caressed my fingers over his skin, lightly dragging my nails around the curve of Brody’s butt.
“Do you want to top me next?” He asked, surprising me with such a casual offer. When I could drag my eyes away from the rash of gooseflesh on his skin, I found his eyes, bright and clear, on mine. “You can fuck me if you want to, Beck. Tonight, or whenever we have a night to ourselves again.”
My face got warm, but I didn’t hide from him even though I wanted to.
I was honest, with my eyes, at least. I let him read the truth.
That I didn’t want to be in control. That I like when he takes me, not just because of how it makes me feel physically, which is beyond comprehension, but mentally and emotionally, too.
Brody is the only person I’ve ever felt comfortable enough to drop my guard around. I think it’s what makes the sex so good.
Will it ever be like that again? Will we get back to where we were this morning, when we laughed while we wrestled for the last clean towel after showering together and making each other come?
Will I ever have the thrill of nearly being late because Brody’s mouth on me was suddenly more important than my obsessive need to be twenty minutes early to everything?
I lie awake staring at the ceiling, Brody’s words replaying on a loop.
You are your father’s son after all.
Rolling to my other side, I reach for my phone again.
As I’ve done a dozen or more times since Brody ran out of the locker room, I check for calls and messages, in case some kind of glitch made me miss a notification.
I check that my ringer is on and turned up as loud as it goes, and change his notification tone to something obnoxious so there’s no possibility of me missing a message from him.
And then I send him two more texts, and call his number a few more times, it goes straight to voicemail like it has all day. The first time I’m silent, listening to the dead silence of the line before hanging up. The second time I leave another message.
“Brody, baby. Please call me back. I just want to know you’re okay. I didn’t tell him. I swear to God, I didn’t tell him anything. But it might still be my fault, because I snapped at him and told him to lay off. I should have known he’d…” I take a shaky breath. “Just call me back, okay? Please.”
I hang up and stare at the black screen until my eyes blur.
He doesn’t call back.
Becky: I packed your things from the hotel. I’ll bring your bag to the airport. You’ll be there, right?
Becky: Where are you?
Becky: Just tell me you’re okay.
The next morning, the team is subdued as we climb off the bus and onto our charter flight to go home.
Pierce sits up front with team admin, the area beneath his eyes a deep purple and a bandage over his nose despite it being confirmed that it wasn’t broken.
I overheard the trainer who accompanied Pierce to the hospital tell Coach that all imaging showed no signs of damage other than minor bruising.
The plane fills up, but there’s no Brody when the flight attendant pulls the door closed and latches it.
Coach makes his way through the plane, taking a head count and checking in on everyone. When he walks past our section of the small jet, he eyes the empty seat Brody was supposed to be in, then looks around at those of us sitting nearby.
I really thought he’d be here. Why isn’t he here?
Brody should be sitting next to Fish, across the aisle and one row down from where I’m sitting with Cade. Jay and Aaron are in front of Fish, and Roman and Sean are behind me and Cade.
“Mr. Miller decided to head back separately,” he says, giving us the only information that he can—Brody is safe and accounted for.
I open my mouth to ask for more, but Coach shakes his head.
Now isn’t the time or place. Before he continues down the aisle to his seat, he nods at the guys behind me.
It feels cryptic. I turn and make eye contact with my co-captains, then look around at our friends.
His friends, and mine, and the friends we share who are concerned for him.
He should be here. I should be keeping my face pointedly angled away and refusing to make eye contact in case he tries to eye fuck me where everyone can see, not avoiding the empty space next to Fish because it makes me want to scream and I’m barely holding myself together.
A hand lands on the back of my seat. I turn my head to find Roman leaning forward.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I almost laugh. The sound that comes out is closer to a cough. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Then I shake my head. “No. This is fucked up. Brody might not be my favorite person, but he doesn’t deserve to lose everything like this,” I lie.
He nods once, like that’s the only honest answer he expected. “Sean and I had an idea that we wanted to run by you. Some of the other guys have mentioned being upset about the likelihood of Brody getting kicked off the team.”
“Out of school entirely, you mean,” Aaron says, leaning across the aisle to chime in. “If he loses his scholarship, he’ll lose everything. He won’t be able to continue going to school at all.”
Bile rises in my throat. I cut my eyes to the front of the plane where Pierce is leaning back and listening to headphones, watching something on his phone. He looks perfectly relaxed.
“That’s right,” Sean says, nodding at Aaron. “If there’s anything we can do, we want to try. I ran this idea past Coach last night, and he thinks it might help.”
“What are we doing?” I ask, impatient to get to the damn point. I’m ready to do something about this. I need a plan, or at least the beginnings of one that I can focus on to keep myself sane.
“Not one person that we’ve spoken to, even the freshies who follow Pierce around, were cool with what happened yesterday.
I saw them physically backing away when he was going off on Brody.
So we’re going to get as many statements together as possible from teammates in support of Brody, and to confirm the harassment he’s been dealing with since the year began.
” Sean has the kindness not to stare directly at me when he says that, but Aaron doesn’t bother holding back his pointed glare.
I show him the decency of lowering my eyes and acknowledging his unspoken words.
This is on you, Beckett.
I nod. “I’m in. I’ll help any way I can.” Thinking of something I might be able to do, I pull out my phone to type out a text message. “My, um, my girlfriend’s mom is on the Board of Directors for the school. I’ll see if there’s anything she can do to help.”
“Most of the trainers and admin are willing to speak up in support of Brody as well,” Roman adds. “Everyone’s sick of Pierce’s bullshit, and most of the team really likes Brody.”
“I’m in,” Matt Young says, turning around from his seat in front of Cade.
“Hell yeah,” Cade says, throwing his hand over the back of Matt’s seat to give him a fist bump.
Matt’s seat partner, a freshman named Sebastian, throws his fist into the mix as well. “Pierce is a dick, and I might know how Brody’s tires got slashed,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “I’d be willing to report that to admin if it helps keep Brody on the team.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, as if I’ve taken the lead on this project. Face hot, I turn back to my co-captains. “What else we got?”