Chapter 36
Zac
It’s another week and a half before I’m cleared to return to classes.
My parents wanted me to wait until after the weekend, not seeing any point in going on a Friday, but I’m going fucking stir-crazy at home.
The doctor prescribed glasses to help with the headaches when looking at screens for too long, and permission to leave early if needed.
My professors gave me special consideration and extensions on my assignments, so can still graduate in three months.
Noah drives me to campus, and we meet Hannah for breakfast at the campus coffee shop.
She grins as she hugs me. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks,” I chuckle.
Noah greets her with a friendly kiss on the cheek before sliding into the booth next to me. My wide eyes find his when he entwines his fingers with mine and rests our linked hands on the table in front of us.
“What are you doing?” I murmur. He only just got comfortable with physical touch in front of his housemates. I wasn’t expecting him to initiate anything on campus.
He ignores the question, simply squeezing my hand and continuing his conversation with Hannah about the game against BHU tomorrow. I duck my head to hide my smile. This man keeps surprising me in all the best ways.
After breakfast, he walks me to class, but I can’t concentrate on a thing he’s saying because he’s still holding my hand. I don’t miss the stares and whispers as we cross campus. When we enter the building where my lecture is, I pull him into an empty classroom, locking the door behind us.
He’s smirking when I turn to face him, his heated gaze running over my body as he leans against a desk.
“I’m not complaining,” I say, stalking towards him and stepping between his legs when he opens them for me. Running my fingers through his hair, I tilt his head back and kiss him. “But who are you, and what have you done with my insecure and insanely private boyfriend?”
He licks his lips as I pull away, and my pulse skyrockets.
“Noah—”
“I’m done holding back with you, Zac. Before I went to Perth, I wanted to tell you something, and then the accident happened, and I didn’t want you to think it was a knee-jerk reaction—”
“You’re rambling,” I tease, kissing him again. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say I love you.” He releases a shaky breath. “No. I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about, and I want to do better for you. I want to be better for you.”
My heart skips a beat. “Noah, you don’t—”
“Yeah, I do have to. Fuck, Zac. I’m sick of hiding. I want everyone to know I’m yours. I want everyone to know you’re the one who makes my heart race.” He takes my hand and rests it on his chest, proving his point. “My feelings for you scare me. I’ve never felt the pull this strongly.”
For a moment, I’m struck dumb, rendered speechless as I stare at the vulnerable man standing in front of me, declaring his feelings. Noah Bentley is the first person besides my parents and my sister to tell me they love me.
He reaches up and strokes my cheek in a tender caress. “I don’t expect you to say anything, but I needed you to know. No matter what happens with my dad, my feelings for you won’t change. I fucking love you, Zac Kincaid.”
I wish we were at his house as I crush my lips to his, our tongues tangling in a kiss that sets every nerve alight. “I love you, Noah. I’m so fucking in love with you.”
He grins against my mouth. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I kiss him again. “You’re the bravest person I know, with the biggest heart. You put everyone’s needs in front of your own. It’s time you let me put your needs first. What do you say we blow off classes and go back to your place?”
Noah groans. “You’re killing me, but no. You can’t afford any more time off.”
“One more day won’t hurt.” I nip at the sensitive skin below his ear. “I still want to fuck you.”
He places a hand on my chest and gently pushes me away, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he reaches into his pocket for the keys to Jasper’s car. “You need to go to class, but I expect you naked in my bed when I get home from training.”
He removes a key from the set, and our fingers brush as he places it in my hand. He kisses me one last time before slipping out of the room.
I shake my head, a laugh bubbling out of me. Noah Bentley is going to be the death of me.
Nervous anticipation thrums through me when Mum drops me off at Noah’s after my classes, but it’s coupled with a killer migraine.
She eyes me with a worried look as I massage my temples.
“Will you be okay?” she asks. “Maybe you should come home.”
“I’m fine, Mum. Seriously.” I try to smile, but I’m sure it comes across as more of a grimace.
“It’s been a big day. Noah’s welcome to come over when he finishes training.”
“Mum, please. I know you’re worried, but I’m okay. I need to get back to living my life.”
She smiles sadly. “You suffered a brain injury, Zac. You need to take it easy.”
“I know, and I will. I’ll take a nap before Noah gets home.”
“Okay,” she sighs. “Wish Noah and the boys good luck for the game tomorrow. Will he drop you off before getting the bus, or do you need me to pick you up?”
“I’ll get a lift.” I lean over and kiss her cheek before getting out of the car. “Thanks, Mum.”
After letting myself in, I go straight to the kitchen for a glass of water and swallow a few pills.
It’s frustrating how long it’s taking to recover.
The doctors told me to be patient, that it will take three to six months for me to fully recover, and that it could have been worse.
I could’ve been killed like the kid who hit me.
Sinking onto a stool, I drop my head into my hands.
I’ve accepted that I won’t play again this season, that my time on the pitch with my teammates is over.
There are only two games left, and if we win them both, we’ll win the championship back-to-back.
While I can’t play, I want to be there cheering them on, especially for the final game against Macquarie. If only these headaches would fuck off.
I still can’t look at a screen for longer than twenty minutes, and I get fatigued when I do too much.
But a month of sitting on the couch is messing with my mental health.
My teammates keep checking in, trying to make me feel like I’m still a part of it all, but the reality is, I’m not even on the sidelines.
For someone so active, I hate how fragile I feel.
Standing up too fast makes the room tilt, and reading a paragraph feels like a workout.
What messes with me the worst is how invisible it all is.
Aside from the healing scar on my temple where I hit my head, I look fine on the outside.
I can joke, smile, and hold a conversation, but inside my head, everything is slower, heavier.
I lose my train of thought mid-sentence, forget why I walked into a room, and snap at people over the littlest things, even though I don’t mean it.
Noah and my family have been understanding, but I hate it. It’s not who I am.
They tell me to rest, be patient, and let my brain heal.
I know they’re right, but it doesn’t help when my days blur together in a never-ending loop of headaches, boredom, anger, and guilt.
It’s fucking exhausting and demoralising.
I want to stop measuring my life in symptoms and limits. I want to feel fucking normal again.
Setting my empty glass on the sink a little harder than intended, I head up to Noah’s bedroom and crawl beneath his sheets, closing my eyes as I breathe in his scent. My body melts into the mattress, all the tension leaching from me.
I’m just drifting off when someone knocks on the front door. Letting out a groan, I roll over and ignore it, but the knocking is relentless. I check the clock on Noah’s bedside table—the guys won’t be home for at least half an hour.
With a muttered curse, I trudge downstairs and answer the door.
“Mr Bentley,” I grunt in surprise.
He eyes me warily, his gaze drifting to the scar on my head. “Is my son here?”
I shake my head. “He’s at training.”
He frowns. “Doesn’t he have a game tomorrow?”
“They have a light session.”
“Can I come in?”
I contemplate slamming the door in his face. My head is still pounding, the medication not having fully kicked in yet, and the last thing I want to do is make small talk with Noah’s arsehole father. I clench my jaw, but step aside for him to enter.
I shoot a quick text to Noah before following his dad into the living room. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare him down. “If you’re here to threaten me and Noah, it won’t work. I know what you did to Nathan, and I’m not scared of you.”
The man doesn’t flinch. “I’m here to talk to my son.”
“And if he’s not ready to talk to you?” I arch a brow. “It’s a long way to come if he doesn’t want to see you. Maybe you should’ve called first.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“With all due respect,” I say in a tone that lets him know I don’t respect him at all, “I’m not about to let you do or say anything that hurts Noah.”
He studies me. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What about what you’re doing to hurt his future?”
I shake my head with a humourless laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
He shrugs. “At least he and Hannah made sense. With Hannah’s family connections, he’ll make a name for himself in the oil industry.”
“When are you going to get it?” I grit out. “Do you really think controlling his life and making him miserable is protecting his future?”
His eyes widen at my outburst, but I’m not done.
“He’s been dealing with so much trauma over what you did to him and Nathan, and he’s finally moving on from that. He doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s broken because of who he loves.”
For a moment, I think I might be getting through to him, but then he lets out a derisive scoff. “I know my son. Noah knows his responsibilities to his family. He’ll do what he’s told.”
“No, I won’t.”
My head snaps to where Noah’s appeared in the entryway. His hair’s damp with sweat and he’s still wearing his training gear.
“What are you doing here, Dad?”
“We need to talk.” Carl looks at me pointedly. “Alone.”
Noah shakes his head and moves to my side. “Say whatever you’ve got to say. The quicker you talk, the quicker you leave.”
“Show some respect,” his father snaps.
“I will when you do.” Noah reaches for my hand, and I grip it tight, letting him know I’m here for him, no matter what happens. “You don’t get to come into my home and make demands of me.”
Carl narrows his eyes. “You have three months to get all of this out of your system, son. Then you’re coming home.”
Noah stiffens. “No, I’m not.”
“You’ll return home, or you’ll be cut off.”
“Why do you hate me so much, Dad?”
“Do as you’re told, Noah.”
“Is it because I’m gay? Does who I am really repulse you that much?”
“There’s no future with him. It’s time to grow up and accept your responsibilities for our family.”
Fire burns in my stomach, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to make things worse for Noah.
He remains calm. “I spoke to Grandad on the way home. He’s agreed to pay for me to continue my studies. I’m not coming back to Perth.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Do I remind you of him?”
Carl’s face drains of colour. “Who?”
“David? Is that why you’re so desperate to change who I am? What happened to him?”
“He had no right to tell you about David,” Carl grits out.
“He didn’t. He just gave me his name.” Noah pulls me to the couch, and we sit across from his father. “Grandad accepts me for who I am. He always has. So why can’t you? Tell me what happened to David, Dad. Help me understand why you won’t accept me, your own flesh and blood.”
Carl drops his head. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Dad,” Noah pleads. “I need to know. I’ve been hurting myself for years because of what you did to me and Nathan. Help me understand why.”
He sighs. “David was my roommate at university. One night, he was caught with another guy, and these arseholes beat them within an inch of their lives. The other guy died from his injuries, but David wasn’t so lucky.
He ended up a paraplegic with brain damage.
” He lifts his gaze to his son, fear and pain etched in his eyes as his voice breaks. “I don’t want that to happen to you.”