Unexpected Rush (Play-By-Play #11)(92)

And for now, that was good enough.





Thirty-Seven





The game against Dallas hadn’t gone like Barrett had wanted it to. Offense had been stagnant, putting up only seven points. Defense had been crusty, slow on getting off their marks.

He and Drake, not even speaking to each other, hadn’t been in sync and it had showed.

He’d tried to talk to Drake at practices and before the game and Drake wouldn’t have it. Every time he’d approached him Drake had walked away.

The tension had been noticeable even to their defensive coach, who had told them both that whatever was going on between them needed to be resolved, and it sure as hell better not affect their game play.

Barrett wasn’t sure if that’s what had accounted for their shitty game against Dallas, but it definitely hadn’t helped.

They’d lost, fourteen to seven.

He hated losing, especially a game that was close enough they could have won.

He needed to fix things between Drake and him. He needed to fix a lot of things.

He drove to Drake’s condo on Monday. It was an off day, and he knew that if he let this simmer between them it was only going to get worse. He rang the bell, and Drake answered.

His expression was still one of anger.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Drake asked.

“We need to talk.”

“I got nothing to say to you, man.”

“Then you can listen and I’ll talk. We’ve been friends since college. We’ve been teammates for four years. I love you like a brother, Drake. Don’t let this come between us.”

Drake opened the door to let him in. That was a start.

He walked in and Drake shut the door. What happened next would be telling.

“You want a water?”

For the first time in five days, that tight band around Barrett’s chest started to loosen.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

They walked into the kitchen and Drake pulled two waters out of the fridge, then handed one to Barrett. He opened it and took several long swallows to coat his nervous, parched throat.

“I owe you an apology,” Barrett said. “You were right when you said I should have respected you enough to come to you and tell you when Harmony and I first started dating. You and I have been friends a long time, and I should have trusted that you would be open and understanding, and know that I have enough respect for your sister to never mistreat her.”

Drake nodded. “That’s right, you should have known that. You’re not one of those *s she typically dates. You’re my best friend. You would never hurt her.”

“But now I have hurt her. I hurt her all along by keeping this secret from everyone she cares about. I hurt her, I hurt you and I hurt your mother. And for that I’m deeply sorry. I ask you to forgive me. And then I’m going to go ask your mother to forgive me. After that I’m going to beg Harmony to forgive me. I’m in love with your sister, Drake. And I’m not giving up on her until she lets me back in.”

Drake breathed in, then let it out. “Man. You’re in love with my sister.”

“Yes.” He was going to stand there and take whatever Drake handed out.

“I have to own some of this because I have a rep as a Class A dick where she’s concerned. All of it has come from a place of love. I’ve felt the need to protect her since she was a baby. But Mama has finally opened my eyes to the fact that Harmony is now a grown woman. And she can make her own choices, even if those choices end up with her getting hurt. And if she ends up getting hurt, I need to learn to stand by and support her without getting involved.”

Drake’s lips ticked up. “It’s obvious she loves you, or she would have never put up with this bullshit from you, man.”

“This is not making me feel better,” Barrett said.

“Good. I respect you for coming here and laying this down with me. I love you, man. I don’t like things to be off between us.”

“I don’t, either.” Barrett took a step forward and put his arms out.

Drake hugged him, and they slapped backs.

He’d never felt more relieved.

“We’re good?” Barrett asked.

“Yeah. We’re good. Now you need to go make it right with my sister.”

“I intend to. And we need to figure out how we f*cked up that game with Dallas so that shit never happens again.”

Drake nodded. “You got that. We’ll be back in the game in no time. Now that we got our personal shit settled.”

“Almost settled. I have to go get the woman I love to forgive me.”

Drake laughed. “Good luck with that, my man. Harmony’s tough.”

Yeah, he knew that. It was one of the reasons he loved her.





Thirty-Eight





Harmony had decided to paint one of the walls in her living room to give the room a pop of color. No doubt it was some form of breakup therapy.

She had tarps down, the baseboard was taped, and there she was on a Tuesday night, wearing her raggiest set of shorts and T-shirt, wielding a paintbrush.

She was halfway through when the doorbell rang.

Dammit. She laid the brush against the roller tray, grabbed the rag to wipe her hands and went to the door, shocked to see her brother there.