Chapter Thirty-Two
Hunter
For once, Lucas can sleep when I can’t. I’m still trying to wrap my head around today—hell, around the last couple of months.
It feels like all this change, growth, fear, confusion, disappointment, sadness, happiness, guilt, love, all kept building and building until it came to a head today with Coach—no, with Blake Sr. He doesn’t deserve the title of Coach anymore.
Not from me. A coach is someone I respect, someone who thinks about more than himself.
I hate that he makes me question things, that he makes me wonder what in my life was a lie, but the one thing I don’t question is the man sleeping peacefully beside me.
Lucas is everything I didn’t know I wanted, everything I didn’t know I needed.
He’s strong and loving, independent, unique, and caring.
He’s spent his life being made to believe he’s not worthy, all because he didn’t do what one man wanted him to do.
I don’t ever want him to feel that way again. I don’t care what it costs me.
As quietly as possible, I slip out of bed. Lucas doesn’t stir as I grab my phone, pull on a pair of joggers, and sneak out of the room.
Downstairs, Mom is the first person I call.
It’s late, but hopefully she’s still awake.
She’s always been a night owl. We used to talk late at night like this when I was off at college, then when I first got drafted.
Mom called it our good-night call, and we’d chat about our days as the last thing we did before going to sleep.
I don’t remember when that stopped, but the thought of doing it now feels right.
Mom answers on the second ring. “Hey, you. Is everything okay?” she asks, her voice soft and full of concern she’s trying to hide.
“Yeah. It’s kinda messed up but also good, and I wanted to talk to my mom.”
“That’s what I’m here for. What happened? Do you need me to come there?”
I smile. There’s no doubt in my mind my mom would go to the airport and jump on the next flight here if I told her I needed her.
“No. Just, you were right. There is someone, and it’s the last person I should be with, but I love him. I love him so fucking much, I wonder how I was ever happy without him.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” she says simply. “If you love him, he’s good people. The rest we’ll figure out. Is he another player?”
My heart echoes in my ears, my living room coming in and out of focus.
“It’s Lucas,” I say, and for a moment there’s no sound on the other end.
Panic digs its claws into me, ripping me open.
What will I do if she tells me this is wrong?
That I’m betraying Ellis’s memory. That the thought of it disgusts her—
“Okay,” she says. “We can work with that. I’ve always liked Lucas, and honestly, I can see why he would be a good fit for you.”
That stops me in my tracks. “You can?”
“I won’t pretend I’m not surprised, but I can see it. Lucas is an artist, and in a way, you are too.”
I scoff. “What do you mean?”
“I loved Ellis, and I’ll always love Ellis, but everything with him was strategy, black-and-white thinking, the best way to win, and while I know you want to win, you come at football from a more passionate angle, for a love of the game.
Football is an art to you, Hunter. That’s why it was so hard to see you lose that over the past years.
You’ve never looked at football as a business, and that’s what it was to Ellis, but I think Lucas looks at the world more similarly to you.
It’s not Ellis’s fault, but you were always trying to be what you thought he wanted you to be, what his father wanted you to be, and I don’t think it’s like that with Lucas. Am I wrong?”
I wipe a tear that slipped free. She’s so fucking right.
It’s just another way Ellis and I weren’t meant to be forever.
I always felt like I had to be perfect because in so many ways, he was perfect, and because after a while, it felt like his relationship with his father rested on my shoulders.
That’s a lot to carry. And working so hard to make sure your father loves you was a lot of pressure for Ellis too.
“No. You’re not wrong. I love Lucas so much. I feel like I can be anything with him.”
“You can always be anything you want. You’re Hunter fucking King. The Comeback King. Don’t ever let anyone make you believe differently.”
God, I love her. She’s the best. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. Blake Sr. found out about us. He wasn’t happy.”
“Hunter…that man will never like anyone or anything he can’t control.
He was there for you a lot when you were younger.
He gave you chances in life I couldn’t give you, and I’ll always be appreciative to him for that, but he always gets something out of it.
Everything is always on his terms. He takes credit for you like he created you, and he didn’t.
You created you, and don’t you forget it. ”
“I think you had a hand in that too.”
“Eh. You’re just good because it’s who you are. Now, how are you with the whole Ellis-and-Lucas thing? That must stir up emotions for you both. How is he?”
Those simple questions make everything better. There’s no anger, no judgment, only acceptance and love, and not just for me, but for Lucas too.
I talk to Mom for about thirty minutes before I hear a sound on the stairs. I look up to see a sleepy, messy-haired Lucas heading toward me. He whispers, “Sorry,” when he realizes I’m on the phone.
“It’s okay. I’m talking to my mom.” Then to her, “Lucas just came downstairs.”
“Tell him hi,” Mom replies.
I look up at him, see the shock on his face. “Mom says hi.”
He smiles, his eyes glinting with tears. You told her, his eyes say. She knows, and she accepts us. You really did choose me.
I nod.
Voice thick with emotion, Lucas replies, “Tell her I said hi too.”
*
We decide to keep our relationship a secret through the rest of the season.
It’s not that I want to hide Lucas. I want everyone to know about us, but that will come with conflicting feelings and everyone having a say on our relationship, which is something neither of us is ready for.
So we spent the next few days similarly to how we spent them before Blake Sr. found out about us—me with practice, and the two of us laughing and fucking and loving and feeling free in this way we seem to do for each other.
We’re at home this week, playing against Charlotte. I think both Lucas and I are nervous for me to get back on the field.
“You should have Isla over,” I tell him before I head out.
I don’t know why it feels different leaving him for a game this time than it did before Blake Sr. found out.
Maybe it’s because things are more real now, with both him and my mom knowing.
We’re assuming Abbie doesn’t since she hasn’t said anything when Lucas has spoken to her.
I told him he could tell her, but he chose not to.
“I’m fine, Hunter. I’m going to work on some photos and watch my boyfriend destroy Charlotte. If Isla came over, I’d have to pretend I still hate football.”
I chuckle. “I don’t think you pretend that at all…and maybe you don’t even hate it. You don’t want it, and you don’t love it, but maybe you only hate it because of him.”
“Lies.” He grins, but I see the wheels turning in his head. “Get out of here. I’ll let you fuck me if you get over a hundred rushing yards.”
“What if I want you to fuck me?” I tease.
“Eh. If you’re lucky.” He winks.
I kiss him and head out.
I do, in fact, score over a hundred rushing yards.
And I do, in fact, want to fuck Lucas, which I do, late that night, thinking maybe this will all be okay. Maybe no one will give a fuck about us, and Abbie can get Blake Sr. to come around, for Lucas’s sake.
But when we go to sleep, I’m thinking about the game in two weeks, when Kansas City will play in LA, just before Christmas, and I’ll see Blake Sr. again for the first time since he found out about us.