Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend #4)(85)

Yay for small mercies. “Can I go now?”

I don’t want to throw a hissy fit, but this is what I’ve feared more than anything else I almost ran away from.

All the work Talon and I did over the break, all that psychological bullshit and positive reinforcement … I actually believed we’d done enough, which makes this crushing disappointment so much worse.

My career has an expiration date, and I have no idea what to be when I grow up. Add this to all the public bullshit, and I’m so ready to give up. Just throw in the towel and say fuck it.

Then I remember Talon. Our dream.

We’re not even going to get that before I’m forced into retirement.

I’ve still got this season. I’ve still got this season. Nope. No matter how many times I say it, the dreaded feeling of the end won’t go away.

I leave in a daze and wander around aimlessly before directing my feet toward the team’s hotel.

Meanwhile, I keep chanting in my head, It’s not over, it’s not over, it’s not over.

Only, it is. I won’t even be dressing for games. I’m benched. Indefinitely. Unless some miracle occurs. Perhaps I can hope for an injury of another player, but after what I’ve just been through this past year? Not only is it vindictive but karma would kick my ass so hard.

It doesn’t occur to me that it’s the first time in weeks that I haven’t been followed, but as soon as I arrive at the hotel, I realize why I’ve been left alone. Talon must’ve come straight here when I got called into Caldwell’s office thinking this would be my first stop afterward.

I wade my way through the photographers and ignore their stupid questions—one asks if I’ve been cut from the team.

My footsteps are heavy, and when I step through Talon’s and my hotel room, I find my boyfriend, my partner, the love of my life, pacing the small space for me.

He stops wearing tracks into the carpet when he hears me come in. “Are you leaving me?”

“What?”

“Well, if you’re cut, you’re going to try for another team, right? Which means you could be across the country, and I know it’s only for half the year, and then we’ll be together, but I don’t want you to leave. We’ve done this whole thing practically long-distance, and I’ve only had a short time of having you in person, and I don’t want to do that again.”

I let him ramble, because he’s on a roll.

“I’ll do it if we have to because I would never hold you back from your dream of playing in the NFL—I’m not that much of an asshole—but damn it, I’m super selfish and don’t want you to leave me.”

“You done?” I ask, a smile finding my face. Weirdly, Talon freaking out about this makes me calmer, because he’s right. This could be so much worse than it is. I could’ve been cut. They could’ve thrown me out on my ass. But I’m here. I get to stay with the team and be in Chicago—even if I don’t get to play too many games. If any.

“What? What did they say?”

“I’m benched because McLaren and the new kid are faster than me right now.”

The fight leaves Talon in a visible whoosh as he relaxes. “You’re staying?”

“For this year at least.” Next year, probably not, but I don’t say that. We’ll face that when we need to. I have an entire season to figure out my future.

Talon begins pacing again. “No. You’ll be here next year too. We’ll make sure of it. More training, more PT, more—”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Together. We’ll figure it out together … right?”

I nod. “I’m not going to run again. I know what I want.”

Talon being here, supporting me, planning our future together is all I want.

“Whatever I do, whether this is my last season or my leg gets better, it won’t matter. So long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.”

Talon’s expression softens, and he approaches to wrap his arms around me. His head fits just below mine, and his shampoo smells like the crappy hotel stuff. “We can still do this. I’m sure of it. Do you remember that night a billion years ago where I promised it was gonna be you and me winning a Super Bowl together one day?”

“Yeah,” I mumble into his hair. “I thought you were full of shit.”

Talon laughs. “I think even back then the dream was about us together. Not the championship. I fell in love with you without even knowing that was possible.”

My chest warms and fills with happiness. “So maybe we should make a new dream. Anything else that involves you and me.”

He playfully slaps the back of my head. “That’ll be Plan B. We can still do Plan A. It might just take some time.”

“Lucky I’m willing to keep your ass forever.”

Talon pulls back and cocks his head. “Just my ass?”

I shrug. “I guess I’ll take the rest of you too.”

With a wry smile, he leans in and softly kisses me. “You’re so good to me.”

“Sarcasm. It’s how I love.”

“Holy shit, you must love me a fuck ton.”

It’s my turn to kiss him. “More than a fuck ton.”

“I love you too, Shane.”