33. Jase

Colin Mercer studies the X-rays on the light box at the hospital while my heart pounds hard against my rib cage.

"Can I play?" I can barely croak out the words. This first playoff game matters more than ever for two reasons… One, it turns out we're playing the Oakland Saints and I'd be facing off against Bryce, and two, I need one last opportunity to prove to every other GM and owner in the NFL that I'm a fucking star they need on their team and worth every penny I command.

Colin strokes his clean-shaven chin and uses a pencil to point out areas of my forearm. "This is the area that absorbed the most impact. My concern is repeat trauma. While the bones have fused together over the past weeks, another severe hit may cause more extensive damage." He looks at me. "You need a new contract, and if you take a bad hit in this game, you're not going to be at the top of anyone's draft lists."

"Take it off, Doc." I hold up my cast arm. "You said it's healed enough for me to play. I know there are risks, but this game is life or death for my football career."

"Jase, I understand your need to play. I know you feel like you're hanging on by a thread. But I'd hate to see you sustain an injury with a prolonged recovery time."

"You're assuming I'll play like crap and get pummeled."

"Well, judging by your play before the suspension, would that be so wrong?" He snickers when I roll my eyes at him. "Kidding. Seriously, though, I'm not a fan of throwing you back out there so quickly, but we can tape you up to secure the bone and make sure it stays in place."

"So that means…?"

"You can play but you'll have to wear a hard, durable splint that's padded per NFL rules. It'll stabilize the bone and help protect you during the game."

I let out a whoop, jump off the exam table, and wave my cast arm in his face. "Then let's get this bitch off."

"I'll have the tech come in to get this off and fit you for the splint." He pauses for a second and stares at me. "How are you holding up?"

I chuckle. "Oh, now you're going into shrink mode? How many specialties do you have, Doc?"

"This is me talking to you as a friend and as a fellow gay man who understands how tricky it is to navigate the waters after first coming out."

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly get a lot of time to prepare for that bombshell. It was dropped on me at the same time it was dropped on everyone else in the world."

"So it's true."

I throw my hands into the air. "What can I say? I'm a classic closet case who's been hiding for years because he's afraid of backlash from the world."

"And you decided the best way to handle it was to become known as a raging homophobe?"

"Gabe and I are good now," I grumble. "And I never had a problem with him liking cock. I had other problems, ones that didn't really have anything to do with him, but ones I kinda projected onto him because I was insecure about other shit. People assumed I was angry and judgmental about the gay thing when I really didn't give a damn about that at all."

"I'm glad to hear that. Teamwork makes the dream work, and it's good to know you've let go of whatever was causing the rift."

"Not that it matters. I'm out anyway." I let out a sharp laugh. "No pun intended."

"The media has been pretty relentless from what I've seen," he says. "It must be hard on you."

"Yeah, they won't leave me the hell alone. But with everything happening, I haven't even been able to focus on it. My life is a fucking funnel cloud. Being outed is the least of my problems." My lips twist into a grimace. "And they all wanna know about Lucas."

"I can understand that. You're not exactly the match of the century."

I glare at him. "Why, because he's pretty and I'm, like, gritty?"

"I think it goes a little deeper than that. It's more shocking because he's kind of a Boy Scout and you're…" His voice trails off and he shrugs. "Not."

"I'll give you that. He's a good guy. The best, actually. He actually gives a damn about people."

My spine stiffens. I laid into him pretty hard at the hotel because I was pissed as hell at the world after getting news that I was being cut. Of course, he has to look out for his job. He's got those kids to raise and a social worker breathing down his neck. He already stood by me multiple times in the past weeks to prove that he cares.

But I unleashed holy hell on him because that's just who I am. Flip the fuck out first, ask questions later.

Or never.

Maybe.

Whatever.

"And he gravitated to you because you're a badass. Doesn't take a genius to see that one coming a mile away."

"Yeah, well, since we're so different, the whole thing was bound to crash and burn."

"So you were together, then?"

"I don't think you can really say that we were ever together." I shrug, avoiding his eyes. "But whatever it was, it's over now."

"Because of the media storm?"

"Too much has been said and done. There's no going back now. Besides, I have a whole lot of other crap plaguing me that I need to deal with, like the fact that I'm jobless."

"This is so typical of you, do you know that? You try to put on a brave front and you shut down as soon as anyone tries to dig in too far."

"Yeah, well, the one time I let someone use his shovel, I got fucked over."

"Shovel? I don't know if I want to touch that one with a ten-foot pole…"

I look up to see the grin creep across Colin's face. "But yet you're talking about poles."

Colin takes a seat next to me. "Look, I may not be on the field with you guys, but I see a lot. Since you joined the team, you've gotten a reputation for being a grade-A asshole. You're a great player despite that knee injury you're always trying to play off."

My jaw drops. "But I've never?—"

"Remember, I see it all. You play through the pain a lot. I have a trained eye. And I've helped you through it as much as you've let me. But I think being plagued with an injury should show you that your time in the NFL is short. It is for most players. The shelf life of a professional football career isn't decades."

I don't bother to challenge him because I'd be lying. He's right. I have a liability that's a ticking time bomb.

"The reason why I say this," he continues. "Is to convince you that once your football glory days are in the past, what are you going to have to look forward to? Your life changed in some pretty big ways recently. And you're putting focus on a career when maybe there are other things you need to consider. Like whether or not you want to be an island for the rest of your life. Trust me, it's lonely."

The fingers of my cast arm twitch as if they're trying to make my mind trip back to that night outside the bar when Lucas stood by me, refusing to leave me by myself. He put everything on the line for me. He wasn't going to let me go down alone because he's a good guy who thinks he can save everyone.

I thought I was beyond saving, a lost cause.

Maybe I need to stop being so self-centered and consider saving someone else for once.

"Don't waste time worrying about what you might never have and focus on what you could have if you make the right move. If there's something real between you and Lucas, go after it. Hang on tight to it. Never let it go." Colin pats me on the shoulder. "Because if you let it go again, it might not ever find its way back to you."

An hour later, I walk out of the hospital with my arm somewhat free and slide into the back seat of my Uber. My phone pings with an incoming call. I pull it out and frown at the screen.

Rex.

I swipe to accept the call.

"I just saved your ass. Get to my office right now."

My heart crashes into my stomach because deep down I know what that means.

Another decision to make.

"What did you do?"

"The Minnesota Wildcats are looking for a right tackle. And they're very interested in you. We need to run through details of the contract."

I tug at the back of my hair, my throat tightening more with every passing second.

Minne-fucking-sota.

I pull the phone away from my ear.

"Something's come up and we need to go to a different address," I say to the driver through clenched teeth.

Fuck me. I really did make my bed.

I shift between my feet,staring at the door in front of me, my fist in midair. Running a hand through my hair, I stare up at the high ceiling and let out an unsteady breath.

What the fuck am I even doing here? I should be on my way to Rex's office right now, finalizing plans for the next chapter of my career.

I open my hand and run my fingertips down the front of the door.

Maybe it's better to just leave now.

Someone wants me. I can't risk my future. I need to leave.

Do you want to live out your life as an island? Money and fame are great, but what happens when you hang up your cleats?

My skin prickles.

Maybe I'm not the kind of guy who can have it all.

I've made a lot of choices to get to this point. Now I need to make the right one for my future.

I wouldn't answer the door if I were him. I couldn't be honest about how I felt, I lashed out at him, accused him of being self-centered when one, he"s the most giving, selfless person I know, and two, I've caused myself, and plenty of other people, a whole lot of hell because I've done the exact same thing.

Pot, kettle. Whatever the saying is. It applies here, I'm sure of it.

I might even be the pot and the kettle.

I tap my fingertips against the door, let out a sigh, and drop my hand.

Being an island doesn't sound great, but at least I know I can't cause anyone more grief than I already have. Lucas deserves better, a guy who can be honest about how he feels because he…

He's the best.

He saw through all my bullshit and cracked every shell to get past the dickhead fa?ade I've worn for as long as I can remember. He wanted to see the real me and I let him.

He fell in love with me, the person I've been trying to hide for such a long time. Lucas Bentley, the gorgeous brainiac with a heart of gold, loves me.

Well, he did until I went ballistic on him because I was nursing my own insecurities.

He has too much on his plate, though, and I'm at least a ten-course meal.

Lucas has a bright future in front of him.

I slide my hand down the front of the door one last time before backing away from it.

Taking a deep breath, I turn toward the elevator.

"The last time you showed up here, you were ready to camp out in the hallway until I let you inside." Lucas's green eyes darken, his jaw set. He stands a few feet away from me, bundled up from being outside in the bitter cold, his cheeks and the tip of his nose stained a deep red. "Now you're just going to give up without even trying?"