33. Jack

"But why can"t I stay with you?" Aniyah pouts.

"Ani, listen," I say, using the shortened version of her name as an endearment, because I can"t stomach calling her anything else, even in front of people. "I told you, the team has to stay in the hotel."

"I thought that was just for before the game. I overheard that some of your teammates are going out clubbing downtown to celebrate the win." She puts her hands on her hips and looks at me expectantly.

I rub my hand over my face. "Well, you"re welcome to join them, but I"m tired. I took a big hit, Ani." While I mostly just don"t want to be forced out in public with Miss Spectacle herself, it is true that I got tackled pretty hard during the game. I actually had to sit out for a few plays before Coach would let me back on the field. "We"ve got our semifinals game in two days, on New Year's Eve. We can party after that. Okay?"

Aniyah glares at me and stomps her foot a little. We"re standing on the sidelines, with a few of my teammates just behind us. We just finished up some interviews after we successfully trampled Ole Miss 42 to 25. I"m dirty, I"m sweaty, I"m sore, and I"m irritated because I didn"t want her to come to the game at all. But of course, her parents have tickets to every game, so she got to follow me to the bowl game. More than once the cameras sought her out, showing her on the jumbotron screens, standing up in her seat and waving her "#53 ON THE FIELD, #1 IN MY HEART" sign and turning around so everyone can see her "FUTURE MRS. PERRY" Jackals football jersey.

She huffs and I notice her eyes cut to someone behind me and narrow. A quick glance behind me shows Coach Nicks talking to a few of the sports reporters. My eyes don"t linger on him the way I"d like. We"ve had very little contact since the Heisman awards, and he hasn"t spoken to me at all since we got back from Christmas. I"m sure he saw the announcements, not to mention Aniyah"s embarrassing public display. I never got a chance to tell him what the plan was. I didn't make enough of an effort because I was afraid of his reaction. I"d be upset too.

I"m exhausted by it all, and to think that this is just the beginning makes my temples throb.

"Want me to come by later and give you a massage?" she asks, running her hands up my chest and around my neck.

I give her a pleading, don"t fuck with me right now, look. Then I wrap one arm around her back and kiss the top of her head, just for show. Before I leave her pouting on the sidelines, I look up towards the box I know her parents are sitting in and wave. I have no idea if they saw me, and I don"t really care. It's all for show, anyway.

The guys are rowdy in the locker room, excited about our big win tonight. When I walk in, they start chanting, "Magic Jack," and try to convince me to come out with them.

"Y"all, I don"t want to be a downer. I"m not feeling great and just need to lie down. But have a drink for me, and I'll make it next time, alright?"

I hurry through my shower and head out before most of the guys are finished dressing, grabbing a rideshare back to the hotel. Before I go upstairs, I talk to the front desk and ask them not to share my room number or allow any visitors in case my crazy ass fiancée tries to come see me. The last thing I need is her showing up, especially when I plan to corner Bryant.

I have to get him to talk to me, so I can explain what I did and why I did it. I need to know if there"s any chance of a future with this thing we have. Does all of this end when I leave Groveton? Either way, I want him to know his reputation is safe. I"m playing a long game here and he needs to know. After we"re married and far away from her friends and family, I"m going to make Aniyah so fucking miserable she eventually decides she can"t take it anymore, and hands all the evidence over in exchange for her freedom. She can keep the money and half of everything I have. I"ve lived on way less. Having any money at all feels like being rich when you"ve always had nothing.

Once I"m in my hotel room, I take a real shower. I put on a pair of dark grey lounge pants without underwear, and a tight, white t-shirt. I"d go shirtless, but I want to ease my way in by telling him I want to talk first. This shirt is just thin enough to see all the ridges of my muscles, without making it seem like I"m trying too hard. Between the shirt and the grey pants, with my cock so clearly, yet casually on display, one could think that I just wandered down the hallway to speak to him. Maybe if he"s thinking about my body and sex while I"m explaining everything, he"ll be a lot more amenable to the process.

Fuck. I don"t know.

Bryant"s room is on the floor above mine. I might have purposefully eavesdropped during check-in to get his room number. I was disappointed that his room was so far away, but at least the coaches" rooms are more spread out and the first string players don"t have to share this time. Perks of having a whole hotel to ourselves for the bowl game.

I knock on the door, overthinking everything from the clothes I"m wearing to how hard I knock, just hoping he"s in there. I"ve been trying to catch him alone since we checked in two days ago, but he"s been in planning sessions and interviews down in the conference rooms. There"s a chance he could be out celebrating with the other coaches, but that"s never really been his style. Then again, I saw him drinking on the plane, so maybe he"s venturing out more. I hope he"s being safe.

Jesus, listen to me. I"m as clingy as my fake fiancée.

I hear a scratching sound behind the door, and I"m almost positive he"s uncovering the cover of the peephole to see who"s out in the hallway. Maybe I should have stepped off to the side so he couldn"t see who it was.

"I"m going to have to make a scene to get you to open this door, huh?" I say, feigning more confidence than I feel.

There"s a small thud against the door and a pause. Just as I"m about to bang on the door with my fist, the door opens. Bryant stands there, his hair wet from a shower, looking more delicious than ever. He"s obviously tired. The dark circles under his eyes make the ring around his hazel irises more apparent. His scruff has grown out into a short beard that has a few streaks of grey, giving him a distinguished look. Manly. Sexy as fucking hell.

He gives me an expectant look, silently asking me what I"m here for, and my stomach knots. I need to be calm, casual. Though it"s hard to play it cool when I"m imagining myself rubbing my face in his chest hair like a cat.

I clear my throat. "I just needed to talk to you. Alone."

"I was just getting out of the shower," he says. "Let me grab a shirt and we can walk to the ice machine?"

He"s trying to avoid letting me in. It"s like we never had a connection at all. Maybe it was all in my head? Our only moments together in the last month have been fleeting glances and one quick bathroom fuck, where it seemed like things were still good between us. He"d said I was still his.

Well… he said my ass was his. Is that really the same thing?

Either way, I still need to talk to him, though, but obviously not out in this hallway.

My shoulders droop. "I don"t want to be overheard. It"s about Aniyah." I lift an eyebrow, letting him know that I"m not just talking about my relationship with her, but about what she knows.

His whole body stiffens at the mention of her name, but he nods. After looking both ways down the hallway, he steps back and lets me in. His entire demeanor is cool and professional, the way he is with everyone else. The way he used to be before this thing became more than a game.

He gestures to the small sitting area in his suite and grabs me a bottle of water before opening a small bottle of whiskey from the minibar. I don"t say anything, but he catches me watching him. My eyes cut to the other side of the room, landing on the sliding glass door to the balcony. When I look back at him again, his lips quirk.

"At least it"s warmer here," I joke.

"At least you"re not naked," he retorts.

"Not yet."

"Jack."

"Bryant."

Like always, his eyes fly to my mouth when I use his first name. I used to think it was because he liked it, but now I"m wondering if he"s just considering my audacity. Now his gaze feels more like a warning, but predictably, the danger he projects sends a lick of excitement up my spine and my cock twitches. His eyes flick to the movement, but he quickly looks away.

"I hear congratulations are in order," he says in a low voice.

I release a heavy huff of air, my chest clenching at the tone in his voice. The judgment. The resignation.

"That"s what I need to talk to you about. You need to know, it"s not real."

"That rock looks pretty real to me."

"The marriage is real. It's happening. But the relationship isn"t."

"Could have fooled me," he gruffs out, taking a large swig of his whiskey.

"It"s the deal I made. For her silence. To keep our secret."

"What are you talking about, Jack?" He looks both angry and confused.

"I was grasping at straws, and tried offering her money I don"t have yet. I told her about the numbers that the scouts discussed with me. She wanted more than just the money, though. She wants the status of being an NFL wife, and she needed collateral, which I obviously don"t have."

"So you agreed to marry her?"

I nod, bending over to rest my elbows on my knees and raking my hands through my hair. "The deal was I marry her right after the championship game, so we"re married before I sign anything. So that way she"ll be entitled to whatever I earn for the whole first year, when I"ll have the most income from the bonus and any rookie endorsements. After the year, we separate and divorce on good terms, and I won"t fight her to take half of everything plus a year of alimony."

"Jesus Jack."

"I don"t care about the money. It was an easy deal to make to cover up my stupid mistake, to keep us both safe." It was an easy deal… when I thought I"d get to keep him.

"Except she wants more now?"

I look at him, sitting across from me with a fierce expression. "How did you know?"

"Because I"ve spent a lot more time in the circles of these people. And enough is never enough for people who are used to getting everything."

My head drops into my hands, and I rub them over my face before leaning my head against the back of the chair and venting my frustration to the ceiling. "Arghhh!" I yell in frustration.

He"s just confirmed what I already know, that she"ll never let me go without a fight. She"ll keep using that video as collateral, yanking me along, trying to force me into a real relationship with her. What happens when she wants kids?

"People like her, like her family—like the dean. And all the entitled assholes of the world that consider themselves elite and above the rest of us. They know how to make demands, and they know how to use our weaknesses against us, because they"re born honing those skills."

"I know the dean is threatening your job if we don"t win this season," I say in understanding. I"ve known it for a while, guessed by the interactions that I"ve witnessed.

"Among other things," he says, offhandedly. "People like us are pawns in their games, and we go along with it because it"s better than living in the gutters where we come from. We tell ourselves we can play the game and win, pull ourselves up to their level. But really, you just get deeper into the game, and they"ll keep using you to get ahead. And then when they"re done with you, they"ll throw you out with yesterday"s trash. That"s why you need to get out of this deal with Aniyah Wilcox, and you need to focus on building your future without strings attached. Use your signing bonus to save, invest. Be smart, because when you"re not useful to them anymore, you"ll be nothing again."

My heart aches for him, and a few more pieces of what makes Bryant Nicks the way he is fall into place.

"What else is the dean trying to get you to do?"

"Doesn"t matter. It"ll never end. Which is why this will be my last year at Groveton either way. Don"t drown yourself to save me, Jack."

"Even if I was willing to throw you under the bus, which I"m not—under any circumstances—my face and voice are in that video, too. Clearly and enthusiastically enjoying your attention."

"I can make sure it doesn"t see the light of day."

"I"m not letting you drown to save me, either!" I yell, jumping out of my seat.

"Jack. I"m a forty-eight-year-old drunk. A fuck up. I"ve lived my life and I"ve played my cards—poorly." He looks up at me with pleading eyes. "You have a chance for greatness. True greatness. To not only join the so-called elite, but to own them. Don"t miss your chance."

"Don"t act like your life is over. You"re fucking amazing, Bryant. You inspired me to quit being a dipshit."

"I manipulated you into not being a dipshit. I took advantage of my position and I violated the contract?—"

"Don"t you dare say you"re sorry for what happened between us."

"I"m not sorry," he snaps. I"m momentarily dumbstruck by his raised voice and sincere tone. "I should be sorry, but I"m not. I"m not a good enough person to regret this thing between us. I think we were good for each other, until we weren"t."

His voice trails off. "My only regret is that I can"t stop watching you, wanting you, craving you. If you want the truth, I don"t just want you to cut off the deal with Aniyah because she"ll just keep taking advantage of you. I want you to cut it off so I don"t have to watch you be happy with her."

"It"s all fake."

"You"re too good an actor."

"I never had to fake it with you. Why can"t we just?—"

"What, Jack? Why can"t we just say to hell with all of them, come out as a gay couple with an almost thirty-year age gap and live happily ever after?"

I feel every cell in my body wilt in the defeat I hear in his voice. We live in a conservative town in Texas. Both our lives and careers revolve around football. There have been very, very few openly gay players in the NFL, and even fewer that have gone on to have decent careers. It could be career suicide. But it wouldn"t be impossible.

One look at Bryant tells me he"s not willing to go that far with me, to take that risk. And that hurts.

Am I willing? Is this something that I want?

It"s overwhelming to even think about. After six months of obsessively lusting after one man, after pushing myself beyond my limits to prove myself to him, and then finally admitting to myself that I"ve fallen in love with him along the way... I can"t really imagine my life without him.

"I suppose it was na?ve of me to think I could marry Aniyah and still keep you. I didn"t realize that being with you wasn"t an option either way."

Bryant looks away from me and drains his cup. I feel like a fucking idiot.

Forget looking like a pussy, or being a pathetic simp, or any of this macho bullshit that I let hold me down this whole time. I"m an idiot that can"t think past his dick to realize when someone doesn"t want them. I"m really no better than Aniyah.

The heat of anger and humiliation rushes over me, and I stride for the door, turning around at the last moment, because I'm weak as fuck.

"If you don't want to be with me, then why the fuck do you care if I marry her?"

"I don't want to see you get taken advantage of. By anyone. Including me."

"With all due respect, Coach, that's bullshit."