Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
JAYDEN
We left the meeting with a promise to catch up with Mark for dinner and headed straight for the gym.
My arm brushed across Sutton’s with every step.
Maybe I should have been taking more time and the opportunity to get to know some of the other guys better, but after that whole share fest, I was feeling needy.
While my neediness wasn’t anything new in the grand scheme of my friendship with Sutton, I’d sensed his vulnerability, his words hitting me hard before curling up and making a home in my heart.
With that, my need had flipped a little.
The desire to be with him, let him know unequivocally that I had his back zapped possessiveness in me I’d never felt before.
We were quiet as we maneuvered through the corridors, the sound of conversation from the guys ahead and behind us.
It was unusual for me to stay silent, embracing the moment.
While Sutton had long bouts of being soundless—not from pulling away but from observing those around him—I was a certifiable talkaholic.
It wasn’t that I necessarily felt uncomfortable in silence, rather I had shit to say, and I liked to share the bullshit on my mind, especially with Sutton, who, let’s be real, had the patience of a saint.
“You’re going to follow the directions of the coaches when at the gym, right?”
Sutton’s question pulled my attention to him. “Yeah. After yesterday, I’m not going to push it.” When he bobbed his head, I smirked. “You see, I can be sensible as shit.”
“Can shit be sensible, though?” Pearce asked from behind.
At his side, Eddie snorted. “You’ve known Sutton, what, a couple of years?”
“Yeah, that’s how long I’ve been with the Eagles.”
“You’ll soon learn Jay-bomb mixes his imagery and lives for alliteration.”
I flipped Eddie off. “How many points is that, Sutton?”
He responded immediately. “Twenty.”
“What’s that?” Eddie asked.
Pearce answered first, saying, “They do this whole Scrabble word count thing. Or they did.” He paused a beat. “Not so much last season. It was weird.”
My gut clenched at the mention of last season and my and Sutton’s distance. While it already felt like a lifetime ago, the year had been so epically awful, it had left a lasting impression.
“Why not last year?” Eddie asked.
I side-eyed Sutton, more than happy to take over. Seeing the discomfort on his features, I stepped in. “Well, you know that kiss?”
“You and Sutton when Ryan Broadwater came out?”
“Yeah,” I answered Eddie, aware he had his own bi coming out story not long after retiring from the League.
“Well, that kinda changed everything.” A genuine grin crossed my mouth, impressed with myself that I’d told the absolute truth.
This was the first time we were really answering the question about last year and potentially our secret love affair and subsequent engagement.
The latter wasn’t something I dared deal with yet, but only because I’d have way too much fun thinking of elaborate plans for our upcoming fake wedding.
And then there was the whole proposal. I had so many ideas bobbing around for that story.
Sutton would threaten to kick my ass or maybe get me to sign a gag order or something if he got wind of the fabricated stories in my brain.
“The team already had a wager going before I joined.” Pearce chuckled. “Apparently it had been going even before that kiss blew up the media.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asked, glee in his voice.
“I still can’t believe I never got wind of that,” I sulked. I would have totally got involved. My thoughts froze. Heck, I would have lost, which would have been totally mortifying.
“It was popular too. A few grand all up by the time the reports came out.”
I shook my head and noticed Sutton’s mouth twitching. We could have really screwed that up for Pearce, who’d won, if we’d admitted the truth when I was in the hospital. “You do know that was all gossip, and nothing official was announced. What would you all have done if it had been bullshit?”
I glanced over my shoulder, and Pearce shrugged, his cheeks pink.
His reaction made me pause. I wondered how he’d felt with all the betting going on?
Pearce hadn’t come out publicly yet. He’d already shared with us that his family knew and that he’d had a couple of boyfriends over the years.
But we were the only people in the industry who knew.
A stab of sympathy hit me at what that must be like for him.
What had happened between Sutton and me was rare, I expected.
I hadn’t had years of being afraid, being in the closet.
Hell, being ashamed, as I understood that was a far too familiar feeling.
Instead, while my attraction and the depth of my emotions had come out of left field, I’d embraced them, hadn’t hidden from them. That was who I was.
And I was so lucky that was the case.
I made a mental note to talk to Sutton and make a greater effort with Pearce, find out if he had a plan. The young forward didn’t know it, but it was his bravery that had led to Sutton sharing his truth with me, and me opening myself up to the unknown.
We both owed him a lot.
“It’s all good,” I said with a smile, wanting to close the conversation down. I glanced at the gym door ahead. “If I pass out, no drawing dicks on my face or anything, okay?”
Eddie and Pearce snorted. Sutton didn’t. Instead, his concern beat down at me. The man knew I could deflect like it was an Olympic sport.
The treadmill was going the speed of an injured snail that had been doused with salt. But after thirty minutes on the thing, I couldn’t hear the music pumping out of the sound system anymore. Not with the loud beating of my heart in my ears.
A migraine hadn’t brought me to my knees, which was a win. I had a feeling one wasn’t far behind.
“Ten more minutes,” Jimmy instructed, eyeing me carefully. Since the man apparently had a whole laundry list of experience with working with athletes post-concussion, I was willing to trust him.
He’d put me through my paces. I’d been concerned at first after the mountain of questions and the brief physical he’d pulled in the on-site doc to do. But Jimmy didn’t seem to be holding back.
It did wonders for my headspace, if not my abs and ass that weren’t quite as toned as they were a month ago.
“Hey, Sutton,” I called out, trying to steady my breathing so I didn’t come off as an unfit tub of lard.
He grunted at me from the weights bench where Antonio, the other full-time coach, was spotting him.
“You think you can bounce a quarter off my ass yet? It says here I’ve walked 1.8 miles. My glutes are feeling it.”
The metal bar clanged as it hit the frame before the sound of laughter erupted around the gym.
Half of the college students were with us as part of their gym routine and “get to know the coaches” task.
I expected from the way I’d been running my mouth off, they’d be forming an opinion about me real fast. Just the way I liked it.
“Jay-bomb,” Eddie said with a snort of laughter. “Didn’t we ascertain, what… seven years ago, that you were third in line for the greatest glutes?”
Pearce shot out, “Do we really wanna know?”
“It’s all lies,” I called out to anyone listening. “The contest was rigged. And my twenty-six-year-old ass wasn’t in the glute-envy condition it’s in now. Just ask Sutton.”
“Don’t bring me into whatever you’re talking about,” he said with a grunt, arms straight up in the air, weights bar steady.
“You see, even your boyfriend can’t defend your ass.” Eddie wiped his face with a cloth, throwing it in the laundry bin before moving to the rowing machine.
“Fiancé,” Pearce corrected.
Eddie snorted. “Damn, Jay-bomb, even the man who’s taking one for the team and getting you out of circulation won’t defend your mediocre glutes.”
“Whoa,” I shouted. “Mediocre. I’ll show you fucking medi—”
“Jayden, your pants stay on.”
The patient voice coming from Sutton was laced with a kinda hot firmness. While everyone laughed their saggy asses off, my head totally stuck to the sexy firmness I’d heard in Sutton’s voice.
“Damn,” Pearce said, “I always wondered how you were able to keep Jayden in line. Now I know.” He waggled his brows at me. The room erupted in more laughter, and Sutton just shook his head, carrying on with his reps.
“Patience of an angel,” Eddie confirmed.
“I don’t think there’s anything angelic about Sutton,” I defended breathily, not convinced it was the fast-paced walking that made it sound that way.
“Old guys getting it on…,” Lincoln called out, grabbing my attention, “I think I need to bleach my ears and eyes out.” His shudder was over-the-top and totally something I would have done.
Okay, perhaps would still do. I examined him closely, seeing if some of the arrogance I’d witnessed yesterday had developed into more.
The guy grinned, though, his tone surprisingly light and filled with humor.
Happily biting, I hollered, “Old guys? Eddie, you’re the closest. Give the toddler a pacifier to shut him up. Add a nut punch for good measure.” I grinned at Lincoln, sending him a friendly chin lift.
“Okay, gentlemen, time to cool down, then grab a shower,” Jimmy interrupted, his features full of amusement.
“Perfect.” I slowed the machine. “Communal showers. Glute contest is a go!”
I lost count of how many stinking, damp face towels were thrown at me. And even though one managed to hit me in the mouth at the unfortunate time I was about to tell them to piss off, it was worth the disgusting taste and stink up my nose.
I’d had a decent workout, hung out with some good guys, eye-fucked Sutton, who looked delicious with a trickle of sweat down his dark skin, and walked away migraine free.
Halle-freakin’-lujah.
“You good?” Sutton sidled up to me and wiped his face dry.
“Yeah.”
His smile was immediate. “Straight to the room for a shower?”
“No glutes contest?”
He arched a brow at me, his face deadpan.
“I’ll take that as a no.”