27. Matt

Let him go.

Let him go.

Fuck, it's what I know I should do. It's the right thing. I should just step aside and let him leave me here while he goes out and fulfills all his needs so he can finally be happy.

He deserves that.

Freedom. Honesty. Love.

All the things he needed that I could never give him.

The problem is, he may not need me now, but I need him.

When the world closes in, I feel like I can't breathe properly unless he's with me. When Rusty showed up at the stadium, Zak was the one I wanted to run to, the only one I wanted to confide in, the one who always cared, who gave so much and asked for so little in return.

It wasn't until I saw him a few weeks ago that I realized I've been sleepwalking through my life since our days together at Ohio State. Our relationship may have been short, but it was powerful and intense and the best fucking time of my damn life.

Yeah, I know exactly what I need.

It's Zak.

It's always been Zak.

"What if I can't?" I struggle for breath, my throat so tight I can barely squeeze words out.

"You have to."

I sweep my eyes over his face. It's impassive, just like his tone. His brows knit together, his dark eyes sad but resigned.

Raising my hand to his face, I drag it down the side of his beard, longing to feel the scrape of it against my cheek as he devours me in a deep kiss filled with promises I know he would deliver on because that's just him. "You don't want me to. If you did, you'd already be gone."

"Don't," he mutters. But he doesn't push me away. He doesn't try to leave.

"What if what I want and what I need are the same thing?" My voice shakes. "What if they're both you?"

He shakes his head. "They aren't, and they never will be. You need football. You need it for the security of your family. You need that more than you need me. And that's okay. I've accepted it. It's time for us to be honest with ourselves. What I want is the ability to be free with someone else. But there are too many obstacles standing in the way of that ever happening, and feelings aren't always enough to push past them. I won't be someone's dirty little secret, and you can't be without your football career."

Zak's eyes drop to where my fingers clench his jacket. He puts his hands on top of mine, then looks at me with such longing that it practically makes my dick drip. But swirled in with that longing is acceptance… that what may have infiltrated his heart a long time ago needs to be eradicated like a fucking disease.

Forever.

The sides of my throat sting when I swallow, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. He ruined me for anyone else a long time ago. If he walks away now, I won't ever get over him. It was hard enough the first time. He's carved himself into my heart, marking me with memories of what was, and hopes for a future of what could be if the stars aligned, and we became everything for each other.

"I can't be without you." I sound so fucking needy right now, and I hate myself for it. But even though he's still standing here, I can feel him slipping away and out of my reach.

He peels my hands off him, shaking his head. "Stop. This isn't easy for me. But I'm not a yo-yo. I'm tired of feeling like I don't know where I stand with you. When you came over after the game, I finally realized that it was up to me to break away because I knew you never would as long as I allowed myself to take whatever crumbs you dropped for me."

Ouch. His words pummel me like a weight to the chest, and they fucking hurt. Mainly because they're true. The times I've come to him, it's because I want to lose myself in him, to have him fuck away the pain, to make my head and heart right.

Selfish. I've been completely wrapped up in my own shit, never once thinking about his, or how all of this might have affected him.

If he walks out that door, we're done.

Finished.

Over.

I hate those words. They're so final, so gut-wrenching. A shudder rumbles through me, my mind tripping back to the day he walked out of the college locker room for the last time. My world came crashing down around me in that instant, and the only thing left to provide me with any comfort was the game.

Now, the game pales compared to any of the peace Zak's brought me, peace I was too stupid and scared to accept.

He knows what I need, and he's given it to me more times than I deserve.

Our eyes tangle together, lost in a fantasy of what-ifs.

"You want to stay," I say, cupping the sides of his face. "You know it, and I know it."

"I'm done playing your games. We're different people now. We have different goals. We're on different paths. We have to stop pretending that we can ignore the huge ass elephant in the room." He pushes my hands away, sending my stomach plummeting into my shoes. "I hope you get everything you want, Matt. Really, I do. I want you to be happy, so whatever that means for you is what I wa?—"

I don't let him finish because I don't need to hear anything else.

I wind my fingers into his hair and crush my lips against his. At first, he doesn't respond. He doesn't let me in. It's like he has an invisible barrier set up around him to ward me off because he's afraid of what might happen if he lets down his guard.

Desperation grips me. I claw at him, raking my hands down his back, pushing him into me, urging him to give in to the lust and desire, to let me ease the ache that mirrors my own.

And then, like a switch flicked on inside of him, he parts his lips, letting my tongue dip into his mouth. It coils with his—hot, hungry, and intense. We devour each other like predators battling for food. Our teeth crack, limbs entwined and frenzied with the need to touch. I deepen the kiss, drinking him in like he's my lifeline in a sea of uncertainty, the one source of light that illuminates the darkness.

"Don't leave me," I hiss against his lips. I tug his lower lip through my teeth. "Please don't leave me."

His heart pounds with such ferocity, I can feel it hum against me. I grind my hips against him, sliding against his thickening cock. He grabs me by the hair and pulls my head backward before sizzling my skin with his deviant tongue. Goosebumps pebble my arms and legs, tingles firing like lasers in my groin. My dick strains against my pants, screaming for release that only Zak can give.

A moan escapes from my lips when his teeth latch on to my earlobe because he knows exactly what I like, what can send me over the edge if I give into it... give into him. He sweeps his tongue over the outer shell of my ear and my knees buckle, my body morphing into Jell-O at the command of his mouth.

I slide my hands underneath his jacket and caress his hard, sculpted muscles. I want to tear open his shirt and trace every cut and ripple with my tongue. I want to taste every inch of his smooth skin. I want to feel him inside of me, throbbing, writhing as we connect on a level I could never imagine finding with anyone else.

I hold him close, tight against me, gripping his shirt as if I alone have the power to keep him here with me in our carnal, little bubble.

But it's not my choice.

I had the choice once.

I made the fucking wrong one.

I can't screw it up again.

Somewhere in the depths of my lust-flooded mind, a clicking sound registers. Then suddenly the room goes from dim to bright white.

What the fuck?

I jump away from Zak, not missing the look of dejection that follows. Blinking fast, I twist around, almost choking on a breath when I see Anna standing in the doorway, her face twisted with horror.

"I was looking for you because I was about to give my speech. Then, I saw you come in here…" Her voice trails off and she steps backward, pressing a hand to her temple. Her face pales, her deep blue eyes shiny. "I…I can't…"

She spins and hurries out of the closet, slamming the door closed behind her.

Panic suddenly grips me, clenching.

Fuck…am I strong enough to make the right choice now?