38. Ryan
THIRTY-EIGHT
Ryan
I hang my head, letting the sweat pour down my face. My arms burn, and while a good workout usually leaves me feeling reinvigorated, I’m mentally exhausted.
I’m conflicted.
Opening up to June chipped away at the dam inside me, and a lot of the emotions I’ve had bottled up for years are oozing out. I’m not sure if I can close it, lock up all the bad shit from my past, and continue to pretend it doesn’t exist.
I’m not sure if I want to. I’m no psychologist, but I’m sure keeping everything inside like that isn’t healthy.
Besides, June needed to know. If I want to have a future with her and Oliver, one where we’re together, I need to be honest with her. I need to open up. She took everything in stride, and while I’m sure she has questions, she didn’t pity me.
She didn’t reject me.
But, you know, the more I think about it, these guys are my family too. Gunner. Theo. Vaughn. Hell, even Heath Remington, our new guy. It’s his first week here, but he seems great, and his brother, Rhett, is a good friend. They deserve to know the truth about my past, about Caitlin.
Dean, too, but since he chose the lesser sport—a.k.a. hockey—he’s not here now.
But they really should know.
Maybe, just maybe, it’ll take away some of the weight I’ve been carrying around since her death—the sorrow, the blame, the loss. It’s all been there, festering away under the surface.
They say time heals all wounds, and while there’s a part of me that thinks it’s bullshit, the pain has lessened over the years. I’m not sure I was strong enough to have these conversations when I first met June.
Letting her go was something I’ve always regretted, but in truth, I wasn’t ready for her.
For us.
I can only hope I am now.
“For a man who finally got laid, I’d think you’d be a little happier.” Gunner nudges me out of the way, taking my place on the weight bench. He stretches his arms over his head, and this time when he glances at me, he rolls his eyes. “It’s not like it’s been years or something. Oh, wait. It has.”
“Fuck off,” I grumble, moving behind the bench to spot him. I’d be tempted to leave his ass, but there’s no way I’d risk injuring our starting quarterback. He’s lucky he’s valuable. Coach Wolfe would absolutely have my ass.
Heath looks over at me, his brows nearly in his hairline. “Were you on a pussy sabbatical or something? Too many jersey chasers?”
Once upon a time, I’d have told him there was no such thing as too many jersey chasers, but after meeting June, the thought of sleeping with random women held zero appeal. I don’t need to tell him this—he’s young and I’m sure all about the adoring fans. But turns out I don’t need to because Gunner has a reply locked and loaded.
“It was all self-imposed. Devlin is a complete simp for this girl.”
It’s not a complete lie, but fuck him all the same.
Theo drops his weights, sitting up with a laugh. “Jesus, years? I didn’t realize it was that bad. You should have said something, Devlin.”
“And you would what? Invite me over to your grandmother’s house for a double date? Perhaps you’d introduce me to a geriatric neighbor? Maybe you have a lady friend who power-walks through the mall in the morning.”
He stares at me, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. “Are you saying I’m old?”
“You live in a house covered in doilies. Fuck off.” Also not a lie. When his grandmother died, he inherited the house and has been living there since. The poor guy hasn’t had the heart to redecorate, and he really should. I’m not kidding about the doilies.
“So, what ...” Heath trails off with a mumble, one that’s entirely indecipherable. He leans on the weight bar with his elbows, like really leans. I’m almost afraid if he goes a little farther, he’s going to topple over the bar and on top of Theo. His eyes are squinted, trained off on the far side of the Aces’ gym. “Who is that?”
I follow his gaze to a petite woman with raven hair and an attitude the size of Texas. She’s working with one of the rookies, leading him through a series of resistance exercises.
“Who? Easton? He’s one of the rookies. Safety, I believe.”
Heath turns to me slowly, giving me an exasperated look. “ Does it look like I mean him? For fuck’s sake, Devlin. The girl.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. Oh, I knew exactly who he meant, and he’s really not going to like my answer. “Oh, her? Well, my new friend, that is Coach Wolfe’s daughter. His very off-limits daughter.”
“Are you for real?” He’s still staring at her, although his heart eyes have turned sad. “Fuck.”
Theo shrugs and tosses a grunt in her direction. “I don’t know. I think Wolfe might make a great father-in-law if you like your holiday dinners with a passive-aggressive undertone. Or maybe just aggressive.”
“Doesn’t matter. She doesn’t like football players.” Gunner leans back on the bench, gripping the bar, and lowers it to his chest.
Heath curses under his breath, and I give his shoulder a light slap. “It’s for the best. London would absolutely eat you alive. And not in a good way.”
He grumbles to himself before pulling his attention back to us. “It’s a good thing I like a challenge.”
Oh, fuck. He’s going to end up kneed in the balls, and then we’re all going to be on the field doing suicides until our legs fall off. We can only hope he forgets about her and fast. While she seems to have a chip on her shoulder when it comes to her dad, he’s made it no secret how much he’d dislike it if any of us even looked at her wrong.
Best change the subject, which means now is probably the best time to come clean about things. Most of the team aren’t here yet, but they will be.
“So ...” I help Gunner with the bar as he finishes his set, and I take a deep breath. It really doesn’t do shit to calm my nerves. The other guys will be fine, but he’ll probably be a bit pissed I didn’t tell him sooner. “Don’t want to make this a big deal or anything, but I was married before.”
Gunner instantly sits up, flipping around on the bench to stare at me. “The fuck?”
“What he said.” Theo points toward Gunner, both of them looking at me like I just told them dicks were falling from the sky.
“It was in college before I met you guys.” I wince, fully aware this makes me sound like a complete asshat.
Gunner continues to stare at me, his jaw working back and forth, and he almost looks like he wants to punch me. “Do you think that makes it better? If you’re married, then where the fuck is the lucky woman?”
“She’s dead.”
They don’t say a single fucking word. In all fairness, I essentially dropped a bomb in the middle of the conversation and ran before it detonated. It’s so quiet, I can clearly hear Easton complaining about his Achilles.
Heath is doing his best to blend in with the weights behind us, and I don’t blame the guy. He just got here, and it’s a little early for him to be pulled into all our bullshit. I give him what I hope is an apologetic smile, but it feels like more of a grimace.
“I’m going to need you to tell me a little bit more than that.” Gunner points at me. Aggressively.
I take another breath, blowing this one out slowly, and grip the back of my neck. I tell them all about our relationship, our short marriage, and the night that changed everything forever. They listen through the whole story, and by the end, Theo’s face softens. Gunner’s does not.
He’s running his tongue along the inside of his cheek, studying my face for what feels like several minutes before he blows out a breath. “I’m sorry you lost her. I really am, but I think you’re a dick for not telling me sooner. Why now? Why tell us at all if it’s some deep dark secret?”
“I didn’t know how.” I run a hand down my face, briefly closing my eyes. “The thought of sharing that with someone was something I couldn’t even fathom. Things feel different now. I don’t know. If it helps, Dean doesn’t know.”
“Well, that makes me feel better. At least I knew before that fuck.”
“Didn’t I meet Dean?” Heath’s gaze volleys between us, his lips twisted to one side. “Yeah. He seemed really?—”
“If you say anything nice, you won’t be able to hang out with us. The guy is a total tool.”
“That’s what I was going to say.” Heath nods toward Gunner. “He seems like a fucking tool.”
I chuckle, giving Gunner a look, one that shows my displeasure. “Dean’s my half brother. This asshole can’t seem to play nice in the sandbox. You don’t have to listen to him.” I glance between the three of them, knowing full well I’m about to drop one more bomb. “And you should also know our dad is Patrick Kingsley.”
This time Gunner’s face turns slightly murderous, and I get it. Being married was a big deal, and this is a huge one. Patrick Kingsley is a football legend. One of the greats. He’s one of those players the new guys strive to be like and the older players are compared to. He has everyone fooled.
“I only ever talked to him once, and he’s a huge dick bag. You know, don’t meet your heroes and all that,” I tack on quickly, but there isn’t much left to say.
Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m saved by the music. The rock list we had queued up changes to “Party Like a Rockstar” by the Shop Boyz, and the volume goes up exponentially. The bass vibrates through the room, and while I’m glad I avoided a complete ass chewing, I’m annoyed it was Isaac Hughes coming to my rescue. King Dick himself, with a few of his disciples.
These are the guys who walk around like their shit don’t stink. They give football players a bad name.
“Party at my house tonight, bitches.” And just when I think he can’t be more of a jackass, he raises his arms, swaying his hips to what I’m sure he thinks is the beat, and points in our direction. “You in, Devlin?”
“Sorry, it’s a little late for me.” Plus, I have zero desire to go. I’ve got my family waiting for me at home, and I’m planning on coercing June to cuddle with me on the couch and watch a movie once we put Oliver to bed. Wait. Did I say cuddle? Jesus, I really am a simp.
Isaac laughs and his cronies follow suit. “I knew you were old, but didn’t know it was that bad. I better make sure they have oatmeal for you in the morning. Don’t forget to take your blood pressure medicine before bed.”
Ha. Ha. Ha.
I ignore them—as well as Gunner’s heated glare—as they close the distance, taking up the weight benches right next to us. Of course.
“Don’t think we’re done talking about this.” Gunner’s face is stone, telling me the conversation won’t be put off long.
Theo remains silent, almost like he’s mulling everything over, and Heath leans toward me, lowering his voice a bit. “Does that mean Anders Kingsley, the Motherfucking King, is your brother.”
I nod, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah. And I don’t think he has a fucking clue.”