Noah
Ishould wipe this perpetual smile off my face. I know it. But I can’t seem to help it. Everything with Chance is new and so damn exciting. I don’t remember the last time I felt this good.
All I really want to be doing tonight is hanging out with Chance at my place. But unfortunately, I agreed to go to dinner with Billy to celebrate my birthday, which is tomorrow, a game night. It’s been a while, so I told Chance I’ll be home as soon as I can and will text him when I’m on my way.
Billy and I sit down at the diner, ordering our usuals before he starts his usual chatter about his wife and girls, then ultimately moving on to football. But it’s not the typical conversation when we get there.
“Listen, there’s something we need to talk about, and I don’t want to make it a big deal.” I eye him suspiciously, not liking this one bit. “Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds, and my skin prickles.
“What is it?”
Thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait any longer. “You’ve been awfully chummy with your assistant coach lately.”
What the hell? That’s what this is about? “He’s my assistant coach, not the enemy.”
He pins me with an annoyed look. “He’s a Bear. He’s the enemy, and you made that clear from the very beginning. So this new . . .”—he flicks his wrist in an annoyed gesture—“friendship is odd.”
“Maybe I decided I should give the guy a chance.” I thank the waitress when she brings over our food and pick up a rench fry. “And he’s not a Bear. He’s a goddamn Panther now.” I munch on the fry, but I know this is far from over.
I should have just skipped this dinner and told Chance to come over.
“Look, you’re my oldest friend,” he says, not touching his food and leaning in a little closer. “It doesn’t look good. Not at all, and people are starting to talk.”
My skin heats, and I feel my palms starting to sweat. I hate that I let gossip have this impact on me, but the fear creeps up anyway.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for his answer, but I already know what it is.
“You know why he was fired,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I do.” Only I know the actual story and not just idle gossip.
“So you being chummy with him on the sidelines—it doesn’t look good. Don’t tell me you don’t know that.”
I frown. “It doesn’t look good for a coach and an assistant coach to get along?”
He looks annoyed at me, becoming flustered.
“You know exactly what I mean.” He keeps his voice low.
“He had an affair with a player, for Christ’s sake.
A male player.” A raging shiver goes through me because if it had been a female, he wouldn’t be batting an eye.
“And it’s not just at games when you’re coaching.
People have seen his truck at your house.
You’ve been seen in this diner with him. ”
Christ. I really have no privacy at all.
I lean in closer, keeping my voice deadly quiet as I eye him angrily.
“We both know why he was actually fired. The truth is”—my voice shakes for only a moment, but I quickly right myself—“he was fired for being gay in a small town. And he didn’t touch that goddamn player. Not once. He was trying to help him.”
Billy’s eyes widen in shock as he stares at me. “Noah . . .”
“Don’t.” I sit back in the booth and hold up a hand to stop him. “He’s my friend. We’re chummy, and nothing you or this town says is going to change that simply because he’s a gay man.”
His face is nearly purple as he shakes his head at me. “I’m your friend. I’m trying to warn you. People are starting to talk, damn it. It isn’t right.”
“What isn’t?” I ask, challenging him to accuse me of what he’s thinking. Of what the whole town is talking about. Would I admit there’s more going on with Chance? Even before I know exactly what that thing is? I don’t know. At this point, I’m starting to think that yeah, I might.
“You know what I mean. With him being”—he waves his hand again, flustered—“him.”
I stand up, taking my wallet out of my back pocket and tossing a twenty down on the table. “I don’t want your goddamn warnings anymore. You hear me?” I keep my voice low and my tone calm, but I’m internally shaking.
“I’m just being your friend.”
I give a firm shake of my head. “A real friend wouldn’t warn me and expect me to conform to the town’s expectations. A real friend would have my back when those expectations are cruel and harmful. You wouldn’t want to change me. You’d want to take on the town and right the wrongs.”
“This is Kensley—” he starts, and I shake my head at him again.
“It’s time for Kensley to change and grow.”
With that, I turn and leave, walking out of the diner before I even take a breath. Lord knows this whole thing will be the town’s new gossip. There were plenty of people in there to spread the word.
But I don’t care.
Right now, I’m texting Chance, and with any luck, he’ll be at my house around the same time I pull up.
Because I know without a doubt, if I fall apart, he’ll let me.
And I think that’s exactly what I need right now.