Page 16

I cracked my knuckles, looking around the locker room like I was expecting something bad to happen. My body was on high alert, and although games were usually my happy place, I couldn’t concentrate. Britt was here, but I didn’t know what to say to her. She’d been avoiding me ever since I asked if I could watch her fuck herself with a vibrator, and although that seemed a little forward, I kind of thought it was appropriate for the two of us.

We were messy and confusing, but I wasn’t willing to give up on her anytime soon. I’d convince her to be with me. It wasn’t a matter of if, it was when.

“So,” Tanner drawled out, looking between Jackson and me. He sat on the bench opposite us while we put on our padding. “The Players’ Ball is coming up.”

“That it is,” Jackson stated, unbothered.

“Matty, I’m guessing you’re taking Olana?” I looked up at Tanner, and he raised his hands, chuckling. “Whoa, sorry, dude. I thought I heard that you guys worked things out.”

I shook my head. “Nope. Still in the same place as always with her.”

“Sexless and annoyed,” Jackson said, and even though Tanner whacked my friend upside the head, I didn’t have the heart to fight it. It wasn’t like he was wrong. Since my one incredible night with Britt, I’d been celibate.

“Spit it out, T,” Jackson said, grabbing his helmet and standing.

“What?”

“You want something. It’s obvious. Just ask already so I can say no.”

“It’s Thea.”

“Knew it. No. Gah, why does that word sound so good? No. No. No! Not going to happen. Not ever. Never ever. Nope.”

Tanner rolled his eyes, following our roommate out to the tunnel. “Come on, J. It’s just one night.”

“Yeah, one night that I’ll have to chaperone your sister because you’ll be too busy staring into Aster’s eyes. Thea is a liability, and I have no idea what she’ll get up to if you’re not watching.”

“She’s not that bad. I just don’t like the idea of leaving her alone on campus while the rest of us are out.”

“And why’s that?” Jackson asked.

Tanner tilted his head and glared at Jackson. “Please. You honestly won’t have to do anything. I’ll be there to look after her. You can go and hang out with all the other women you want. All I need is her at our table for dinner and not alone in our apartment.”

“So, you want her to be with us at our table? Have you forgotten that I’ll also have to be at said table and will have to suffer through you arguing all night? Thea wants to rush Alpha Delta Theta. You just have to let her.” He mulled that point over. “Wait a minute. Is that why you want her there? Is that the night of the rush?”

Tanner pursed his lips, and that tense jaw of his was enough of an answer.

Jackson cackled. “Then it’s a definite no. Honestly, what’s your obsession with keeping her out of that thing? I get it, Aster had a shitty time, but all those people who were mean to her are gone.” Jackson shrugged, and I followed behind them, happy the conversation wasn’t about me. “She’s in college, let her do what she wants.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” he said. “Come on. Please. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose. “When did I become the resident babysitter of the house?”

“You aren’t a babysitter. Thea really likes you, and it’s not like you have anyone else to take.”

“You sure about that? I hear there’s a particularly hot blonde reporter out there that might need a date.” My head whipped up to see Jackson grinning at me. “What do you think, Matty? Now that Britt’s gotten you out of her system, do you think I’ve finally got that chance?”

“You’re not going anywhere near her,” I gritted out, much to the amusement of my friends.

“Who’s stopping me?” Jackson was goading me. Trying to get me riled up for the game. I’d no doubt shown how disinterested I was, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to go on a rampage. “You know, I heard she’s been getting cozy with some guy on the hockey team. Erik Steele, right? Maybe I need to show her how real players handle their balls since she gave up on us after testing yours.”

That was it. It didn’t matter he was one of my best friends, I wanted to kill him. I charged him, running so fast he hadn’t braced for the hit.

“Fuck,” he yelled when he fell to the ground with me on top of him just outside the tunnel. The crowd cheered, but I was solely focused on Jackson and how much I wanted to kill him.

“If you think Britt is going anywhere near you and your Mickey Mouse tattooed ass, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Dude,” Jackson cried. “I was only joking. You need to chill.”

Tanner pulled me off Jackson and looked down at him. “And you need to stop being an ass. Why provoke Matty?” Pushing in front of me, Tanner held his hand out to Jackson, who reluctantly accepted it. When Jackson realized we’d drawn a lot of attention and several people were recording us, he accepted it, pulling out one of his signature grins.

Then he opened his arms and bowed to both sides of the tunnel. “Thank you for watching our little skit. We like to call that ‘Teammates until the dream dies.’”

Taking another step into the stadium, he found the camera closest to him and pointed into it. “Hopefully this performance will get me a role as the next Football Bachelor .”

“Idiot,” Tanner said, pushing him away from the cameras and toward the benches. As I stalked behind them, I saw the looks on the coaches’ faces. They’d seen the entire thing, and I knew I’d get a lecture at the end of this.

Whatever. None of it mattered. The game was about to start, so the only thing I needed to focus on was the space between the goal posts and scoring points.

But then blue eyes caught mine.

Fuck.

Two seconds in the stadium and I’d found Britt. She was breathtaking as usual as she held a microphone and stood next to my spot of the players’ bench.

Her brows were creased with concern. She was worried about me, and since I didn’t want her thinking I was weak, I gave her a wink, biting down on my bottom lip as I took her in. That girl could make any sane man lose their concentration. Wearing a fucking Covey Wildcats jersey, I was convinced she walked out of my wet dreams.

Holding my helmet, I strolled over to her, and even though she took a few tentative steps back, she didn’t leave. Partly because she had nowhere to go, but at least she wasn't screaming for help, or anything.

“H-hey, Matty,” she said, looking at the ground, still trying to avoid me, but I wasn’t surprised. She was embarrassed about the whole vibrator in her bed situation. She didn’t need to be, though. It was hot as hell thinking about her doing that.

“Britt.” I took her in and let out an audible tut. “Why are you wearing a Brennon jersey?” I asked, and she slowly looked up at me.

“Because it’s my last name,” she stated.

I stared at her, and when she didn’t get the message from that, I said, “I think we both know it should be Mathieson on your back.”

She pursed her lips, doing a terrible job of hiding her annoyance. “No it shouldn’t.”

“Vegas,” I said as a single statement.

“Olana.”

“What about her? She means nothing.”

“Really? Then why’s she out there watching you on the first row?” Britt pointed over her shoulder.

“Olana means no—” When I looked over to see my ex smiling at me, wearing the largest coat I’d ever seen, I froze. Not because she looked ridiculous, but the person sitting next to her hadn’t come to any of my games since I started at Covey U.

My Dad.

Fuck.

What the hell was he doing here, and why was he with Olana? I felt like I was going to vomit. The last time he saw me play, my mom was sitting next to him.

“It sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Britt said before pushing past me and walking over to the cameraman, leaving me to stare at the stands. My dad hadn’t noticed me, too deep in conversation with Olana. I wanted to tell him to leave, but they’d make a scene and it would no doubt hinder my performance.

Who was I kidding? My concentration was already shot. How the hell was I supposed to kick a ball with him watching me? Judging me like he always did. Blaming me for taking all my mother’s attention while she should have been concentrating on getting better.

I didn’t know how it happened, but somehow, I was back on the bench, staring at the field instead of practicing my kicks at the little net on the side.

Jackson knocked my cleat as he towered over me. “Hey man,” he said. I gazed at the astroturf like it would suddenly solve all my problems. “Tanner told me I needed to come over here and apologize about earlier. I was just trying to get a rise out of you. Figured you’d play a better game. And anyway, you should know by now that I’m not going anywhere near Britt.” Her name made me snap out of it. When I looked up at him, Jackson was smirking. “Hot, blonde, and out of my league just isn’t my type.”

I choked out what some might say was a laugh.

“But there’s some guy in the stands looking for you. He said he was your dad.” He waved in the direction my father was sitting. “I know you don’t talk about him much, so I just wanted to make sure you knew he was here.”

“That’s him,” I said with no emotion. No one knew how bad things had gotten between us, and I wanted to keep it that way. However, the fact he spoke to some of my teammates, pushed me into action. I needed to speak to him, otherwise I risked him trying to talk to more of my teammates. Even Britt if I wasn’t careful.

Looking at my surroundings, I jogged over to a bench just underneath my dad’s seat. Standing on it, I pulled myself onto the ledge so I was face-to-face with him. Sure, to the people around us it looked like a sweet reunion of a father and son, but it was anything but that.

My heart was beating out of my chest, and all the anxiety I’d bottled up over the years started bubbling to the surface. It had been three years since I’d seen him, and to say he looked bad would be an understatement. His skin was gray, and his eyes looked bruised. I knew they weren’t. It was just malnutrition and lack of sleep.

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

“Really? Is that how you want to greet your old man after all this time?” He laughed bitterly. “Fucking typical. Don’t even say hi to your girlfriend here.” He wrapped his arm around Olana’s shoulder, who was smiling innocently.

“Dad. What are you doing here?” I repeated firmly. He wouldn’t paint me out to be the bad guy in this situation.

“I came to watch you play. Isn’t it your senior year? Might be one of the last times I ever see you playing college football.”

“And the first,” I mumbled. “How did you afford the flight out here?” To say money was tight for my father was an understatement. The only thing keeping a roof over his head was me. The fact I hadn’t signed the house over to him had been a blessing in disguise. I’d also helped him out in other ways he didn’t know about, but I’d never give him cash because it would make things worse.

“I got myself a job, son.” The way he said it made me feel like he was mocking me in a way.

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Local mini mart. See, the town hasn’t given up on me even if my own son has.”

I held back what I wanted to say. There was no point fighting him. He gave up on our family long before I ever walked away, and even though I wasn’t there physically, I was still watching over him.

“Is that Brittany?” my dad asked, grinning at my friend. I didn’t like the way he said her name, or how he knew it in the first place. I was careful never to mention Britt on the occasions we spoke because there was nothing to talk about. She was just a friend at that point. I glanced over at Olana who gave me a bemused smile, trying her best to look innocent and failing miserably. She was the only one who could’ve mentioned Britt to my dad.

To say I was pissed at her would be an understatement. I was doing everything she wanted, yet she was still determined to ruin my life in any way she could.

“Mathieson. You can talk to your family after the game.” I nodded at Coach, ready to step away. It wasn’t like this conversation was going anywhere. Just as I was about to step down, my father grabbed my arm and forced my attention back to him.

“I’ll be waiting for you after the game. We’ve got something very important to talk about.” My dad’s gaze moved to Britt, and I didn’t like it, but I needed to know why he was so interested in her.

“Fine,” I gritted out before shaking his hand off and returning to the rest of the players.

The game went by, and I couldn’t kick. It was like I had no control over my legs. It got so bad at one point the entire stadium held their breath while I attempted a kick at the thirty-yard line. I was used to the noise, so the silence didn’t help. The crowd kept my adrenaline high and helped keep my focus. When there was silence, the only thing I could think about were my problems.

My dad … Olana … Britt.

Unsurprisingly, I missed, and it was the last time I was allowed on the field. At least one good thing about playing so terribly: Britt wouldn’t interview me, and I didn’t want to be anywhere near her right now. If she got close enough, or talked to me, then I had no doubts she’d figure out I was upset and try to help me. I didn’t want that. I wanted Britt to see me as a strong, confident protector, not as someone who became weak the minute his dad berated him.

Sitting on the bench, I assumed I was finished for the night, so when Coach waved me over, I was confused. Looking to both my sides, I pointed at myself. He nodded. Shit. He was going to let me out there again. I took a deep breath before shoving my helmet back on, jogging onto the field, and preparing to kick at the twenty-three-yard line. It was simple enough. I’d never missed a kick that close in my entire playing career at Covey U, and I only assumed they brought me out to try to rebuild my confidence after the last abysmal kick.

As expected, the crowd went quiet. My brain went blank. The way it always did when I was about to make a kick that could change the game. The ball was placed into position, and I looked at the goal, then to the ball. I repeated that motion a couple of times before I got comfortable with the angle, bent my knees, and let the bounce in the astro turf propel me forward to kick.

The minute my toe touched the ball, I knew it was wrong.

“Fuck,” I yelled, but no one heard me inside my helmet. The ball was too far right, and the wind pushed it even farther out of the goal line.

I’d missed again, and it was one of the easiest kicks of my career.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I trudged over to the benches, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and ignoring the cameras that were no doubt on me.

“Tough break,” one of the other kickers, Kyle, said as I slumped back onto the bench. Thank God it wasn’t a game-winning goal, otherwise I’d have a target on my back for the rest of the week. I hardly moved from my spot for the rest of the game. Too paralyzed in the thoughts of seeing my dad and all the things he might tell me.

I always knew you were a failure. Thank goodness your mother didn’t live long enough to see what an embarrassment you turned out to be.

“Hey,” Britt murmured, and when I looked up, I realized everyone was leaving. I was still sitting on the bench, too frustrated with my own actions to want to move. I didn’t answer her, but she didn’t move away. She never did. She was always there for me even when I least expected it.

“Move over,” she said, knocking her hip on my side, and I obliged. Our thighs and shoulders touched as she sat next to me, and I wanted to laugh because this was the closest we’d been to each other since Vegas.

“I’m not here to interview you.”

“I guessed that. Unless you were trying to up your ratings by interviewing the worst kicker in Wildcat history.”

She snorted. “Please, you have a ways to go until you’re the worst. But, also, you do realize you have the best stats of any kicker that has ever played here, right?”

I looked at her and laughed. Of course she would know that. She was so obsessed with football it was ridiculous.

Knocking me with her elbow, she said, “We all have bad outings, you’re still the best kicker I’ve ever seen. Freshman me wishes I could say you were overrated because it would make me feel good, but I can’t.”

“I couldn’t get my head in the game today.”

She glanced over to the seats where Olana and my dad were sitting. “Understandable. There’s a lot going on. I’m sure you’ll do a better job next time.”

“Thanks.”

She pulled me into a side hug, shaking me a little. “Guess we’ll have to figure it out. You know, when I was in high school, I got the yipps.”

“Don’t tell me you played baseball too?”

She laughed. “No, but I think the term works well for everything. For a few games, I had this issue where every time I kicked, the ball would just dribble on the ground. Honestly, I was so embarrassed I thought my foot had finally decided it would rather play soccer, but it was so late in high school that I’d ruined my chances of ever making it on the team.”

“Did you ever get out of it?”

“Yeah. I watched a few zombie movies and got out of my head. I always watched those and thought if these people can survive a zombie apocalypse, then I can survive anything I’m going through. There was this one episode where the guy lost his glasses, and the only thing I could think was, how the heck was he supposed to survive without those? But somehow, he did, and well, that was always inspiring to me.”

“What were you in your head about?” I studied her because I never pegged her as the nervous type.

She looked at me sheepishly. “All kinds of things. Sometimes I just find it really hard to focus. It’s like there’s this inner voice in me constantly trying to be perfect for everyone and everything.” Her shoulders relaxed a little after saying that. “I don’t know. My family has never put pressure on me, but I guess when you have three professional athlete brothers, you start to think anything is possible if you try hard enough.”

“You’re already perfect, Britt. There’s no need to try so hard.”

“Thank you, but I’m trying to help you with your issues, not mine.”

“My problems are a little harder to solve,” I muttered, and she patted my knee.

“Well, then, maybe you should think about ways to work around it. If the problem won’t go away, how can you at least make things more tolerable.”

“Thanks, B.” I sighed, gently shaking out of her hold. I glanced over to the crowd, and my dad wasn’t there. It didn’t mean I was scot-free, though. He’d find me, and I needed to talk to him. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow in class,” I said.

Britt nodded. “Sure thing.”

Standing, I trudged back to the showers, knowing that the only things waiting for me were a lecture from Coach and a discussion with my father.

Why was he here, anyway? Did he want to see me fail? Did he think I needed to get to the NFL to survive? It wouldn’t surprise me. He’d never taken much interest in my extracurricular activities, so maybe he thought I needed the money. Maybe he was trying to get a cut. Most likely, he was just here to try to get me to sign over the house, but that was something I was unwilling to do.

Walking out of the stadium, I slowed when I saw my dad sitting on one of the benches. He hadn’t turned to see me yet, and I contemplated leaving him there, but then I remembered how quickly he mentioned Britt. I needed to know how he knew her name.

Reluctantly, I walked over, and without acknowledging him, I sat on the bench and stared at the bronzed statue of a football player in front of me.

“Good to see you, Ben,” he said, and I smelled the alcohol on his breath from here. My lip curled as my stomach curdled. It wasn’t always like this between us. We weren’t always this distant, but I wouldn’t say it was ever smooth sailing. “Not so good to see you play. I assume you aren’t always that terrible for you to be on the team.”

“I’m not normally,” I said, resting my elbows on my knees and blowing out a tired breath. Players walked out of the stadium, but no one bothered us. Jackson and Tanner took a little look as they walked past, but I guessed that was more to do with checking if I was okay than anything else. “You saw me on a bad day.”

He snorted. “No kidding.”

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

“Really? I flew all the way out here, and you’re acting like it’s an inconvenience?”

“Dad. Come on.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I got something very interesting in the mail a couple of weeks ago, and after speaking with your girlfriend, I felt like it was something I needed to talk to you about.” With a clenched jaw, I stayed quiet, just staring at him. He shook his head. “Honestly, I knew you were impulsive, but I gotta admit, I didn’t realize you were dumber than a bag of rocks.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Although, to be fair, now that I’ve seen her, I can see why you’d want to tie her down before anyone else got to her.”

“Still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Getting married before you’ve even finished college to a girl that’s not your girlfriend. I know your mother and I married young, but we were high school sweethearts. I’ve never even met Brittany Brennon, yet she’s my daughter-in-law.”

“Daughter-in-law?”

“The marriage papers. Surprised you got them sent to our house, considering you haven’t been back since you started at this fancy school.”

I froze. I thought I’d gotten rid of all of that. My brain was malfunctioning, and he could see it.

What marriage papers?

The first thing I did after speaking to Britt at the Crushers game was hack the little white chapel where we got married and delete any reference of it happening. I thought it worked and Britt wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences, but clearly it hadn’t if my father knew about it.

Britt was going to kill me. Yeah, I’d been vaguely hinting about our little drunken marriage to get a rise out of her, but I honestly thought it didn’t count if I’d deleted all records of it.

“I need to see the papers. Where are they?”

“Do you really think I’d come all the way here to see you for five minutes and just give them to you? We both know I’m not that good of a guy and you’d leave me high and dry.”

“What do you want?” I cut to the chase, unwilling to sit here and listen to him any longer.

He seemed content with that as he lifted his hand. “Two things. Dinner with your new wife and for you to sign off on the house sale.”

The two things I couldn’t give him.

“No.”

“Well, then I guess you won’t be getting those papers.”

He was dangling the carrot right in front of me, knowing I didn’t have much of an option here.

What would be the worst thing if we didn’t have those papers? I was certain I’d gone through every little piece of information that night and hidden it away or deleted it, but the way my dad was looking at me made me think I was missing something vital. What if there was more to it and she found someone she wanted to get married to down the line? My brain went to Erik, and I couldn’t help but feel sick. What if she wanted to marry him and she couldn’t because she was legally married to me?

I slapped the bench. My pain radiating through my hand, but I barely felt it, too numb with the reality of my situation.

“I’m here for the week. You have my number, just let me know when you want to have dinner, and I’ll be ready and waiting with your papers.”

He got up and walked off. No hug. Nothing. But I wasn’t upset about it. We hadn’t been close in years. I’d never been good enough for him. He wanted a football player son, and even when I got to where he wanted me to be, it was never enough. Kicker was the worst position, therefore, I wasn’t a good enough person for him.

My entire body felt heavy. Almost like the weight of my problems were caving in on me. Britt and I were married, and as happy as that made me, it also made me sick because she wouldn’t want it. Not in a million years.

How the hell was I supposed to ask her to meet my father? My father . I could barely stand him, and the thought of having Britt around him made me want to vomit.

Shit. Britt and I had only just made up, and even that was on shaky ground.

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to breathe. Closing my eyes, I counted to ten, thinking of my mom and everything she would have wanted for me. Sometimes, if I thought hard enough, I could still hear her laugh, but I didn’t do it often. Every time I did, something about it would change, and it felt like she was getting further and further away from me.

I knew what I had to do, even if I didn’t want to. I would need to speak to my wife, but how the fuck was she going to take being called by that title?