Chapter 25
MILES
T oday started out so fucking great. I bought Bryce a coffee to surprise her without too many people knowing, although I’m fairly sure the barista recognized me. I hate this sneaking around shit.
But then, just as I’m about to enter the gym at the stadium, Coach Iverson calls me into his office.
“What’s up?” I walk in and take a seat across from him.
“You know Pavin injured himself last week?”
My gut twists because I cannot believe this is happening. Pavin is the strong safety, and I’m the free safety. What changes are they making now?
I nod.
“We’re bringing in Tre Brummer.”
“And?”
He leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath. “We’re moving you to strong and bringing him up as free.”
I sit there with no words for a beat, trying to rein in my emotions. My performance this season has been incredible and now I have to change positions for the new guy? Sacrifice my ability to continue having the year of my life? “Can I ask why? ”
“Well, he’s new, and honestly, I’m sure you remember how much more muscle you got when you started in the pros. Tre doesn’t have that yet. We can’t have him down at strong safety.”
So I get screwed. Miles gets screwed again.
He raises his hand before I can say anything. “I get that this isn’t ideal, but it’s only until Pavin is back from his injury. Hopefully he returns before playoffs and you get your position back.”
I’ve spent years developing my ability at free safety. My job is to deflect, to intercept, to stop them from scoring. Strong safety is a hitter, a tackler. That isn’t me. Fucking hell.
“I have no choice?”
He shakes his head. “If I saw any other possibility here, I’d do it. And if something bad goes down and Tre can’t handle our level, of course we’ll be reevaluating. Ronnie is going to look for another safety to maybe trade for. But you know what it’s like for a rookie.”
I stand. “That’s all?”
“Please don’t make a thing out of this, Miles.” He stares at me like my father would.
“I’m fine. Just get the kid on some kind of fitness program where he bulks up really quick.”
“He already started today.”
I nod and walk toward the door.
“I have no doubt you’re going to succeed in this role too.”
I say nothing and leave his office. I head into the weight room, and I swear word has already traveled through the team because they all stare at me.
“What?” I snipe and head over to Damon and Cooper at the bench press.
They both give me the look. The one Lee, Brady, and Chase gave me when I got my trading papers from the Kingsmen. I’d really like to be on the other side of that look one day .
“It’s essentially the same. You’ll have your chance at some interceptions too,” Cooper says.
Tre is across the gym, working with the trainers, and he is small. I understand why the decision was made. I’m just sick of being the one who has to sacrifice.
My trainer calls me over because I’ll need more muscle and bulk to play strong safety.
Everyone keeps their distance from me because I’m a big fucking grump the rest of our workout.
At some point, the door opens and Coach Iverson shouts that I’m needed in the interview room. A little alone time with Bryce is about the only thing that could put a smile on my face today. Maybe she got word and knows I’m upset, wants to check in with me and make sure I’m okay.
I drop my weights and leave the room, trying to school my features so I don’t give away that I’m going to see my girl.
The room that Bryce has been using is a vacant office with a window, so there’s no way we can actually do anything in there, but I just want to be near her.
When I open the door, it takes all my willpower not to cross the room and take her in my arms. But she doesn’t look as happy to see me as I am her.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s wrong?”
She swallows. “I was at Shelly’s and…”
“What?” I step forward, but she puts her hand out to stop me.
“I need you to be straight with me.”
If she doesn’t tell me what the hell is wrong soon, I’m gonna lose my shit.
“Bryce, what’s going on?”
“After the hotel room… were you with anyone else?”
It feels as if she just gut-punched me. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
She looks down and back up. “Because a girl sent Shelly a picture of herself naked on your bed.”
Red hot lava flows through my veins. My fists clench, my body tenses. I want to punch something right now because how could she actually be standing here and asking me this?
“And you think she’s telling the truth?”
“No.”
“But you ran over here, pulled me out of a workout to ask me about it. This seems more like a conversation for tonight after both of our workdays are done. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve said you’re never gonna believe this, guess what some guy is saying. But you… you believe her.”
She throws her hands in the air. “No… but I thought maybe it was before we were really together. I mean, we’re not…”
“What, Bryce? What aren’t we?” I’ve felt my tipping point coming for the last week and I’m unable to hold back the hurt that she thinks so little of us.
“We’re sneaking around. It hasn’t been that long. I don’t know how to classify us.”
I rock my head back and laugh. “You know what I would’ve said if you’d asked?”
She says nothing, so I continue.
“I would’ve said you’re my girlfriend. That I can’t wait until I can tell the whole fucking world you’re mine. That’s what I would say. And I sure as shit wouldn’t believe some random guy who probably photoshopped himself into a picture when he says he slept with you.”
“You can understand why I might have thought?—”
“No, I can’t!”
Her gaze flies to the window and I lose the rest of my self-control.
“Oh, is someone looking?” I ask. “Maybe I should come back at 3:02. Is that random enough for you?”
“We agreed to be a secret. My job. Your job. We can’t put those in jeopardy.”
My fists clench at my sides. “I’m starting to think you’ll always have an excuse because it gives you one foot out the door. Jesus Christ, do you know how insulted I am that you believe this girl?”
“She was in your bedroom, Miles. She took a picture at an angle that shows a framed photo of you and your family on your graduation day. The book you’ve been reading was on the dresser next to your glasses. It was your bedroom!”
“I don’t know how that’s even possible, but that doesn’t mean I fucked her. I’ve only slept with you since that hotel room and I haven’t been with one other woman since I stepped foot in Chicago. I told you that. What else do I have to do so you’ll believe me? It’s only ever been you.”
A tear slips down her cheek, but she wipes it angrily. “Stop yelling at me then.”
I throw up my hands then put them on my hips.
“How did you think I would act when you accused me of fucking around? That I would just be like, ‘Hey, I get it, I do. I’ve given you all these signs that maybe I’m not that into you?
’ But I haven’t. It’s just you wanting to keep that wall up between us, so you can always point the finger at someone else. Well, this is on you.”
“What?” Her voice is so small that I take a deep breath to get myself under control.
“I’m walking out of here before one of us says something we can’t take back. I’ll see you tonight at your house, and we’ll talk.”
“No. Either we talk now or never.”
“This really isn’t the time to try to demand control of the situation.” I step back toward the door, my hand on the doorknob at my back.
“If you can’t understand why I was worried and you can’t reassure me without yelling, then I don’t see this ever working out. You’re going to be a professional football player, and I won’t always be able to travel with you. I have to trust you.”
I laugh. “So, that’s it? ”
“You decide.”
“Why would I? You already did. Goodbye, Bryce.” I open the door and walk out, slamming it behind me.
“What the hell is going on, man?” Damon pushes my chest to get me to walk to the locker room instead of the weight room. “Hell, you’re lucky I was walking by and told some people you were arguing about an article she wanted to write about you.”
I remove my arms from his. “Doesn’t matter. We’re over.”
“Over?” he asks but opens the door to the locker room and shoves me inside. “That can’t be true.”
“It is. She doesn’t trust me. Some girl said she slept with me. Took a picture naked on my bed somehow, so she came here to accuse me of cheating on her. Give me a fucking break. She has so many trust issues and I’ve tried, but it’s over now.”
Damon stares at me with his hands on his hips. “I don’t think you mean that.”
He clicks on the television—probably because he fears people will hear me without our voices being drowned out.
“Claims are being made that Chicago Grizzlies players refer to their four-flat on the Northside as The Den. Two of the players who have lived there initiated relationships with Sportsverse reporters in order to get good press. One player involved is a newer member of the team, Miles Cavanaugh, and the reporter? Sportsverse ’s newest addition, Bryce Burns. More on that when we return.”
“Jesus.” Damon turns up the volume, but it goes to commercial.
We both grab our phones, and there’s a stream of text messages from my friends in San Francisco.
I skip over them, going to the internet to see the latest news, including an article written and released today on a famous celebrity gossip blog.
The article was written by Shelly Breckles, former Sportsverse Magazine writer .
I stand to go back and find Bryce, but Ronnie storms in, shoeless. “What the hell just happened?”
I freeze, and all our attention falls on the television as the story continues after the commercial break.
“And as if sleeping with Bryce Burns wasn’t enough, Cavanaugh was seeing other women at the same time. Here’s one alleged woman who said Cavanaugh picked her up at a club and brought her home.”
In the picture, they circle the framed photo from my graduation as proof that it’s my bed. But I don’t have that picture in my bedroom. That picture is the only one of myself in my apartment and it sits on a table by the couch.
Damon’s jaw is hanging open, staring at the woman sprawled on my bed, although all her private areas are covered in black.
“That’s her,” he says, pointing at the TV.
“Who?” I ask.
“That’s the girl who said her boyfriend hit her. The one I gave five hundred dollars to. How did she get on your bed?”
I close my eyes. Clearly this is a setup and a damn convincing one. And with her unresolved feelings about her dad, this whole thing fits right into the narrative that likely runs through her brain. I’ve already done so much damage, all the things I said, I can’t take them back now.
I throw my head in my hands and close my eyes. Today just ended with a big fuck you.