57. Colton

57

COLTON

I push through the front door of my house, leaving the car that dropped me off from the interview I had little choice but to attend behind me.

I want to say that after the time I’ve spent here in the past few weeks, progress has been made and it’s looking more like a home than a building site. But that’s far from the truth.

Everything is still a mess. Still half-finished or barely even started.

It’s not because I’m still recovering. Well, it is. That’s my excuse. But it’s bullshit.

Every day I’m getting stronger, and recently, I’m coming home from training with the guys and am still able to function.

My body is complying with the plan to return to normal life. My mind, however…

That’s still locked in the dark hole it fell into the moment I collapsed on the field.

No, it’s worse than that. It’s stuck on the moment I turned my back on Ella and gave her little choice but to move on.

The slam of the door echoes through the empty, silent building in front of me.

I hate the quiet. It allows me to fall deep into my own thoughts, and that’s a really dangerous place to be.

They’ve landed me here alone, after all.

My cell buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it.

I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone after being interrogated by a journalist for the past hour.

I get it. There are people out there who are used to watching me play every weekend. They follow my career, my socials, and other than attending a couple of games, I’ve fallen off the face of the Earth.

People are concerned, and I owe it to my fans to let them know that I’m okay. That there could be a chance of me returning to the field.

The Saints are on a winning streak right now. It’s great to see them doing so well. It looks like the playoffs might just be within reach.

I want it. Even if I don’t get to be there, I want it for Luc, Kane, and the rest of the team who deserve it about a million times over.

They’re fucking epic players, and even better people. I want to see them go all the way. I want to see them with their rings. I want to see their fucking smiles when that final whistle blows and reality hits them.

My chest aches just thinking about it.

Fuck. I want it.

Marching up to my bedroom, I drag my shirt from my body and launch it in the direction of the laundry. I’m about to shove my pants from my hips when a knock on the front door echoes around the house.

I look over my shoulder as if I can see the door and then through it to discover who’s standing on the other side.

Ignoring whoever it is, I continue undressing, but I quickly discover that they’re not happy with being ignored.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, dragging a pair of sweats up my legs and swiping a t-shirt from the drawer.

As I move back through the house, the knocking becomes insistent.

Whoever it is knows that I’m in here, and they’re not taking no for an answer.

It’s not Luca or Kane—they’d already be inside. Those assholes aren’t polite enough to knock. It could be Letty or Peyton, but the knocking seems a little violent for their small hands.

“All right,” I bellow as I close in on the door.

Wrapping my fingers around the handle, I wrench it open and glare hard at whoever is doing their utmost to ruin my peace.

The sight of a young college-aged kid on the other side of the threshold gives me pause.

Recognition flickers in the back of my mind, but I’m too pissed about him daring to walk up to my front door uninvited to try and figure it out.

“What do you want?” I bark rudely, holding his eyes and hoping he turns around and runs.

He takes a moment to swallow and stands a little taller, attempting to look confident.

“I’m not signing anything,” I complain, confused as to why he’s still standing there.

Just when I start to think that he’s not going to say anything, he quickly blurts,“Hi, I’m Bennett Myers.”

He continues talking, explaining who he is, but the second his name hits my ears, my world begins to spin out of control.

Reaching out, my fingers curl around the doorframe to hold me up.

“Ella,” I rasp. “Is she okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, and I swear my stomach plummets to my feet.

“Can I come in?” he asks, glancing over my shoulder at my building site of a house.

“Uh…” I stumble back. “Y-yeah.”

He hesitantly steps inside, his eyes darting every which way, taking everything in.

It’s clearly not what he was expecting, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“Why are you here? What’s happened?”

Concern for the only girl I’ve ever loved floods my system.

Bennett points to my battered couch. “Do you mind?”

“Only if you tell me why the fuck you’re here,” I snap, not giving a shit about being a crappy host.

Something has happened.

There’s no way he’d just turn up for no reason.

We’re not friends. We’ve never met before. Hell, we’ve never even spoken.

I’m only aware of who he is because Ella talked about him so much that I felt compelled to check out him and his performance at Trinity Royal.

He studies me as I glare at him.

“You love her, right?” he finally asks, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“What?” I ask, my brow wrinkling as I try to figure out what kind of fucking game he’s playing here.

“My sister. Ella. You love her, right?”

“The fuck?” I bark. “Have you really shown up here to ask me if I’m in love with your sister?”

“Amongst other things, yeah,” he confesses, finding his confidence.

It seems he left any hesitation he felt before at the door.

My fists curl at my sides, my patience quickly running out.

“Why are you really here, Benny?”

He stares at me with a blank, serious expression. I think he wants to intimidate me, but he’s going to need to try harder.

“Is this really what you want?” he asks, glancing around my disaster of a home again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had to answer to you.”

“You don’t. I just need to check a few things before I tell you why I’m here. I might think you’re a kickass football player, Colt. But quite honestly, you’re a bit of an asshole for the way you’re treated Ella over the past few years.”

My mouth opens, ready to spit back a response, but I quickly discover that I don’t have one.

He’s right.

No, it’s worse than that. He’s not even close to explaining how much of an asshole I’ve been.

Despite everything, I fell in love with her.

Being with her is too easy.

The way she makes me feel…She makes me a better person. She makes me happier. She makes me…believe…

“Fuck,” I breathe. “I know. I have been an asshole.”

“Huh,” Benny mutters, making me frown. “Didn’t think it would be that easy to get you to confess to that.”

“Things with me and Ella are complicated,” I muse.

“Yeah, I get that. Relationships always are. Or so I hear,” he tags on.

He reminds me a lot of me as a college kid, diagnosis aside.

“But here’s the thing,” he continues, making me second guess my last thought. “Sometimes, they’re fucking worth fighting for.”

His words hit me like a baseball bat to my chest.

“Ella is worth fighting for,” he adds.

“Benny,” I warn.

“Look, I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I know anything about the two of you. But there is one thing I do know, and that’s that my sister fucking loves you, man. She always has. Probably always will. I fucking hate that because of how you’ve treated her, but it’s the truth.

“I get it. There are things that for whatever reason are holding you back. But is being apart what you really want?”

My heart pounds hard against my ribs as he holds my eyes in a hard stare.

I don’t say a word, but apparently, I don’t need to.

“Exactly as I thought,” he mutters to himself. “Listen, I don’t want my big sister to be with an asshole who doesn’t treat her right. She’s had her fair share of that already. But I also don’t want her to settle for second best and a man who doesn’t really have her heart. She deserves better than that.”

“She does,” I say quietly. “She deserves the world.”

“My point exactly. So…are you going to give it to her?”

Silence falls between us as the weight of his question presses down on my shoulders.

My heart aches, my chest constricts, and my fists curl so tight my nails cut into my palms.

I stare at him, half hoping he can’t see me freaking the fuck out and half hoping he can.

I don’t want to try to convince him that I don’t love Ella. I do. More than anything.

It’s why I’ve done all this.

It’s why I’ve pushed her away. Given her a chance of finding happiness elsewhere.

A life with me is going to be hard. The wife or girlfriend of a pro football player is challenging enough at the best of times, but add my issues into the mix and…

Fuck. It could be a fucking disaster.

Or it could be everything…

My heart already knows what I want. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s known from the very first time I met her.

But my head…that’s always been on a very different page.

I’m scared.

I’ll probably always be scared. It’s something I’m going to have to try to live with.

But should that stop me?

I could have died only a few weeks ago.

If they hadn’t restarted my heart, all of this would be over.

There wouldn’t be a chance for us.

Benny frowns as he watches me try to figure out my shit.

He’s got more to say; I can see it dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he keeps it held back.

“I love her,” I blurt. “More than anything. I want—” I swallow thickly, trying to dislodge the messy ball of emotion that’s clogging my throat. “I want to give her the world.”

Benny simply nods. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Lifting my hand, I comb my too long hair back from my brow as I try to get my thoughts straight.

“I lied to her. I turned my back on her. I don’t know what I can do.She might love me, but right now, she also hates me too.”

“Right now, Colt…” He trails off, casting his eyes across the room as he battles with what to say.

“Go on,” I encourage as a little of the fear I felt when I first discovered who was at my front door trickles through my veins.

“Right now,” he repeats, pushing to his feet and stepping closer, “she’s in the hospital, and she needs your support.”