Chapter 32
brEAKING: MAN REFUSES TO LISTEN… UNTIL PRESENTED WITH RECEIPTS Sources confirm “He messed up”
Tanner
I run the same route again. Sprint. Cut. Plant. Turn. Reset. The second I finish the route, I start again. I run the same route on repeat. There’s no one else here. The rest of the team finished practice a while ago and left.
I stayed. Routes don’t lie. There are no surprises and no betrayal here. If I work hard, it works. Unlike people who can’t be trusted. Who says things they don’t mean.
I stumble. I force thoughts of Alaia and her betrayal away. I concentrate on football. It never lets me down.
“Tanner!” the equipment manager yells. “Ball machine is all yours.”
I skid to a stop and rest my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Once my breathing is steady, I make my way across the field to the ball machine. I nod to the equipment manager, who starts the machine.
I stand in front of it, catching balls at high speed. There is no talking. There’s no time for self-reflection. Just thwack-thwack-thwack.
The machine doesn’t judge me. Like my dad does. Thwack. Or my mom. Thwack. Or my siblings. Thwack. Or Alaia after she watches the video.
Shit. Has she watched the video? Does she know what happened? Is she judging me? Does she believe the senator? Does she think—
Thwack.
The ball hits me square in the face and I go down. I blink up at the sky. What happened?
I shake my head. I need to concentrate on football. It doesn’t let me down.
“Enough,” Nolan says before offering me his hand.
Once I’m back on my feet, I’m surrounded. Nolan isn’t alone. Gage, Brock, and Corbin are here as well.
“I thought you left.” Left to go spend time with the women they’re with. Women who aren’t liars and schemers.
I thought I found the unicorn. The woman who didn’t care about my fame or fortune or family name. The woman who saw beneath the goofball, player image I use to protect my heart.
An ache blossoms in my chest and I press my hand against it.
“Do I need to call a trainer to check on you?” Gage asks.
“I’m fine.” There’s nothing any medical person can do about the pain in my chest. A pain I fear won’t go away for a long ass time. Disappointment sits heavy in my stomach.
“You are not fine,” Brock grumbles.
“You’re an idiot,” Corbin adds.
I scowl at him. “I got distracted for one second.”
“Not talking about getting hit by a ball.”
“Whatever,” I mutter since I’m not discussing my love life with him or the rest of my teammates. They don’t need to know what an idiot I was. How I trusted the wrong person. They already think I’m a goofball. I refuse to be the idiot goofball.
“I need a shower.”
I try to walk away but Gage steps in my way. “We need to talk.”
“Can it wait? I’m sweaty.”
“And stinky,” Brock mumbles, and I give him the finger.
I try walking around Gage but my teammates surround me until I’m stuck in the middle of a circle. I cross my arms over my chest. “What?”
Nolan lifts an eyebrow. “You know what.”
“I told you. I’m not discussing my relationship with Alaia with you. It was fake.”
Gage snorts. “Fake? Yeah, right.”
“It was fake.”
“It may have started out fake, but you care for her.”
“Cared for her,” I correct.
I cared for the person I thought she was. The person who doesn’t exist. I should have known better than to get involved with a journalist. They’re all vultures. Each and every one of them. Alaia isn’t the exception.
“He’s cute.” Corbin pats my shoulder and I swat his hand away.
“Do not patronize me.”
“It’s hard not to feel superior to an idiot.”
I growl. “I am not an idiot.”
Not anymore, at least. I made mistakes with Alaia. Trusted her when I know better than to trust anyone. Thought I loved her when I know love is a fucking mirage. My parents taught me those lessons at a young age. I forgot them for a while, but I remember now.
“Yes, you are,” Nolan says.
I point at him. “You’re the leader on the field. Off the field, you’re a teammate. Nothing more.”
“I’m your friend, which is why I’m trying to help you.”
“Help me! Sell your bullshit to someone else. You’re not helping me. You’re reveling in my misery while feeling all superior because your relationship is working out.”
“We’re not discussing Terri.”
“You refuse to discuss your relationship, but you want to stick your nose in mine. This isn’t what friends do.”
Gage squeezes my shoulder. “This is exactly what friends do when they realize their friend is being a fool and on the verge of losing the best thing to ever happen to him.”
“I am not losing my first-string position. I’ve worked my ass off this summer.”
Gage sighs. “Not talking about football and you know it.”
“I’m not discussing Alaia with you.” I don’t give the first shit how I sound like a broken record.
“What did she do?” Corbin asks.
I rear back. “Where do you get off asking? You never discuss Siena with us.”
He shrugs. “Don’t need to. You snoop and find out everything anyway.”
“There you have it. Snoop and figure everything out about my fake relationship with Alaia.”
Gage crosses his arms over his chest. “You can say your relationship is fake as often as you want. We know the truth.”
Suddenly, I’ve had it. I am done with this conversation.
“You don’t know shit. Do you know she contacted my agent and asked him for the video?” I don’t need to tell them what video. They know. “Do you know she paid Sam for the video for her big break?”
Nolan leans over until he’s up in my face. “Wrong.”
I shove him away. “I saw what I saw.”
“And what did you see?” he asks.
I wave away his question. “Alaia admitted she has the video.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Did she explain how she got the video?”
“She told me a bunch of lies.”
“Lies?” Brock grunts.
“Yes, lies.”
“You know what?” Gage taps his chin. “I think we should leave things as they are. He doesn’t deserve her.”
“No, he doesn’t. But she deserves him,” Corbin claims.
I growl. “Alaia doesn’t deserve anything. She’s made her bed. She can lie in it.”
And when I say lie, I mean lie as in not telling the truth. That’s what she’s good at.
Nolan sighs. “Give him the article.”
Gage slaps a newspaper in my hands. “It’s the front page story.”
“I don’t want to read any story.”
“Read it,” Brock grumbles, “or the ball that hit you in the head will feel like a light tap.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
In a league built on teamwork, loyalty is often treated like a guarantee.
But the reality is far more complicated.
Contracts can be negotiated. Reputations can be managed.
Even narratives can be carefully constructed.
Loyalty, however, cannot be manufactured.
It shows itself in who stands beside you when there’s nothing to gain.
And who doesn’t. And in a sport where every move is scrutinized, the greatest risk isn’t always taken on the field.
Sometimes, it’s trusting the wrong person off it.
My brow wrinkles. “I don’t get it.”
Nolan taps the paper. “Keep reading.”
Loyalty is not proven through words or carefully crafted statements.
It’s proven through action, particularly when no one is watching.
When someone entrusted with a player’s career chooses personal gain over protection, it doesn’t just fracture a relationship.
It exposes a deeper issue within the system itself: that sometimes the greatest threat to a player’s reputation isn’t the media, the fans, or even their opponents.
But the people standing closest to them.
Is she referring to my agent? Is she saying Sam lied? He chose personal gain over protecting me?
“It doesn’t make sense. Sam’s spent the entire summer suppressing the video.”
“Sam also just signed Victor Saunders as a client,” Nolan says.
What the hell? Victor Saunders is my biggest rival. While it’s not unusual for a sports agent to have multiple clients on different teams who are rivals, my rivalry with Victor Saunders is different.
He has a personal vendetta against me. Ever since I won the Heisman trophy when he was favored to win, he’s been out to ruin my career. He’s even shown up at clubs where I’ve been and snapped pictures of me with women in an effort to soil my reputation.
“Sam wouldn’t sign Victor Saunders.”
Brock grunts. “Wrong.”
“And if you were wrong about Sam signing Victor, you could be wrong about other things Sam did.” Gage nods toward the newspaper.
My hands shake as I read the rest of the article. Alaia doesn’t name names, but it’s clear this article is about Sam and his betrayal of me.
Damnit. Sam betrayed me. Not Alaia.
I messed up. I should have listened to her explanation of what happened. I assumed she was lying because that’s what my family has done for my entire life. They actually claimed not to have phoned the coach to have me cut from the team. Yeah, right.
But Alaia’s not my family. She’s not a liar out to betray me.
She could have released the video and made a shit ton of money. But what did she do? She wrote a classy article about loyalty in the sports world instead. She took the high road. And I couldn’t love her more for it.
I need to fix this. I need Alaia back. But how?