15. Matt

My finger hovers over my iPhone screen.

What the hell are the odds that he kept the same cell phone number from back in college?

I type the letters of Zak's name. His contact information appears on my screen.

Biting down on my lower lip, I stare at it for a long minute.

What the fuck happened to him? Am I the reason why he nearly split that bum's head in half the other day?

I've already heard from Marc, who's shitting bricks right now because it's the second time Zak has flown off the handle, and he's worried about the damage it'll do to the team heading into preseason. We have our first game this weekend against the Carolina Raptors, and he's panicked that the stadium will be filled with more protesters than fans at this point.

I can't blame him. Zak has made his job a shit ton more stressful over the past few days. Jesus, owners aren't supposed to cause the drama. That's usually reserved for the players.

"Babe?" Anna puts a soft hand on my shoulder, and the hand holding my phone drops. "Is something wrong?"

I nod toward the ninety-inch plasma screen mounted on the wall in my living room. "Yep. Something's very wrong."

She frowns at the screen and looks back at me. "The guy is kind of a loose cannon, huh?"

My shoulders slump and I rake both hands through my hair while pacing the length of the room. "The media is so fucking biased. I can't believe he'd have attacked that guy like that."

"There must be some explanation. I mean, he seems pretty hotheaded, but to physically assault someone like that for no reason?"

"Please. The papers are so fucking liberal. I'm sure there's a reason. There has to be. He wasn't even charged, for Christ's sake. If he was really in the wrong, he'd have been arrested."

My jaw tenses as I study Zak's face on the screen. This hasn't been a good media year for the Crusaders. Jase and Lucas got caught last season in a media shit show because of an altercation that had been filmed and edited to make them out to be the bad guys when they were the ones targeted.

Anna rubs her hands up and down her bare arms. "If it's too much for you, and you don't want to come to the event, I totally understand. I know you've been a little…distant lately."

The event. Shit. I think it's some red carpet thing Anna invited me to a couple of weeks ago. With everything going on, I totally forgot.

I chew the inside of my lip, squeezing my eyes shut for a second before I turn to face her. I haven't laid a finger on her since seeing Zak at the fundraiser almost a week ago. She also has no idea I went to West Virginia to bail out my father and save him and Summer from those lowlife scumbags. I only called her to come over last night because I felt guilty about neglecting her when she's always been a good friend to me.

She doesn't deserve to be my decoy. She deserves to find happiness with a guy who loves, respects, and wants to be with her, not only for the cameras. I wasn't lying when I told Zak that I care about Anna. I do. Very much.

Which is why I can't keep stringing her along. It's wrong to use her like this.

When I turn to look at her, my gut twists. Her blue eyes, which are normally bright with excitement, seem dim. It's like she knows something's up between us, but she can't put her finger on it.

Shit. I don't want to lose her, either. We've become good friends, more than just fuck buddies. We understand each other. We respect each other's space. Neither one of us is in the market for anything permanent.

Except when Zak showed up in my life after so long, all those feelings I was petrified of back when I was eighteen bubbled up like lava and flooded my insides. If I had to convince him to show me how much he still hates me just so I could be close to him again, I'd do it.

A thousand times over.

But even though he said he wanted to hurt me, he didn't. There was more going on in that stairwell than just a quick hookup. There was passion in those kisses, yearning with every touch, fire in our connection.

I'd convinced myself I was over him…over us.

When his mouth captured mine, I knew with zero doubt that I'd never really gotten to that point.

And that I never would, no matter how he felt about me.

The problem is, I'd have to give up too much to run with these feelings. So, I shoved him away for the second time, this time hard enough that he'll never come back for thirds.

Now, it's my heart that's been shattered by my own hand.

My cell phone rings, and I jump, stabbing the Accept button before I look at the screen.

"Hello?" My heart lodges in my throat, and I say a silent prayer that it's Zak's voice I hear in return.

And if I think looking at Anna's sad expression made my gut twist, the sound I do hear makes all my insides churn.

"Harrison," Brett Travers's smooth, slimy voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

"Travers," I grit out.

"You get my message?"

I furrow my brow and meet Anna's curious gaze. "No. Been a little busy with…things."

"I'm in town a little early for the game this weekend. Wanted to know if your girl could get me a ticket to that premier. I've got my eye on Dana Lovewell. Was hoping for an intro."

"Yeah, I'll see if I can get you in." My stomach plunges into my feet. Shit. I knew I'd have to see the dickhead this Sunday, but I was really hoping to avoid him before and after that game. We don't cross paths for a lot of the season, thank fuck. But my hands are tied damn tight where Travers is concerned.

Brett snickers. "Yeah, you do that. By the way, who would've guessed that fucking faggot Zak Kacey would've taken over the Crusaders? You guys were coming alive last season. With Kacey at the helm, it's gonna go straight to shit. You know that, right?"

"Why? Just because he's gay?" The words are out of my mouth like bullets.

"He's trying to change your team colors to the rainbow." Brett snickers. "That's the word on the street."

"You're a real dick. He inherited the team from his dad. It's not like he was on a mission to take it over." A hot flush creeps up the sides of my neck. "Why are you still so focused on Kacey? Why do you even give a shit anymore?"

"Because getting him out of the way wasn't enough. Back when we were in college, his cocksucking ways fucked up the dynamic of the team. He was weak, Harrison. He shouldn't have been on the squad. That blow to his leg proved it. If he belonged with us, he'd have stayed. But he ran with his dick between his legs because he was scared."

"You bullied him," I say in a low voice, avoiding Anna's pained gaze. "You made sure he wasn't covered on that play, left the path clear for UCLA's outside linebackers to pummel him."

"‘I'd have fought for my spot," Brett sneers. "I'd have never let anyone run me away from the game I loved. So, maybe he just didn't love it hard enough. Or maybe he was just a pussy."

"You completely destroyed him, and you took away the thing he loved most."

Brett lets out a sharp laugh. "Since when are you his fucking knight in shining armor? I mean, that press conference was such a joke, brah. All that bullshit about him being so strong in the face of adversity. He fucking crumbled. You were talking out of your ass."

"He left because he didn't think he had any allies on the team. You made sure that nobody had his back anymore. And it almost cost us the season."

"Until I made sure he wouldn't drag us down anymore. And if memory serves, you cut him off, too. So don't get all high and mighty in your fucking ivory tower."

I roll my eyes and press a hand to my forehead. My God, why does this fucking idiot have to be the one who knows my dirtiest secret?

"You wanted him out of the way. You were jealous," I growl.

Zak was just better; he was a whole other level kind of good. Travers knew it, and he wanted to get Zak out of the spotlight.

And even though I was on the bench for that play, I'm just as guilty as Travers.

Doesn't matter that I tried to stop him when I overheard his fucking plans to hurt Zak.

"Yeah, so fucking what? We all do whatever shit we need to take care of ourselves, don't we, Harrison?" His threat hangs in the air like a toxic cloud, always following me, always reminding me. "You know that better than anyone."

I punch the wall. I knew it then, and I know it now.

"You'd better not forget it, either. If you wanna cozy up to your new owner, I don't give a fuck. But always remember what I know, and that if you open your mouth about what happened, I'll sing like a goddamn canary. Just remember, Matt, I've got the video to back it up."