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Part of me wants to say yes, but what am I supposed to tell him? That a kid I kissed when I was nothing more than a kid myself doesn’t want to be friends with me? That he gets annoyed by me and does whatever he can to keep the distance between us? I’d sound like a fucking joke.

Me: Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.

I try to think of something flirty to say to him, but nothing comes to mind, my thoughts still preoccupied with Oakley. He remembered what I told him all those years ago, knew the exact spot to touch me to get the reaction he wanted…and he did it. For the first time in too long, Oakley willingly and purposefully touched me, and then he ran away.

Me: What about you? Want to talk about your day?

Once that message sends, I tuck my phone away, then head back through the house. Lucas is in the kitchen, getting a glass from the cabinet.

“Oakley Manning?” he asks, with his back to me.

My spine stiffens. I refuse to give Oak away, refuse to out him, so I settle on, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lucas turns, glass in hand, and walks my way. He stops close to me and says, “I spent most of my life wanting someone I never thought I could have. I recognize the look.”

Then, without another word, he walks out of the house, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.

Is that how I look at Oakley?

If it is, I never realized it, never even knew.

Yes, I’ve been curious about him, had my feelings about how things went down, but I can’t have wanted him that bad for so long, not the way Lucas is making it sound.

If that was the case, I would have known it.

CHAPTER SIX

Desmond

I didn’t know what to expect coming into a new team. Before now, I played in Kansas City my whole career, and even though I knew Inferno players, even before coming here, I’m nervous. The whole structure of the team is different: how we’re coached, what’s expected—it’s all going to be new.

It doesn’t help that our first preseason game is on Monday and it’s against Kansas City, because of course it is. While part of me can’t wait because I want so badly to beat Coach Blake, there’s that fear in me too.

Training camp went well, though. I hung out with Julian, whom everyone calls Juju, our quarterback, after the last day, and he offered to show me around L.A. and shit like that. We haven’t made it happen yet, but he seems like good people. I like him so far and feel like he’ll be good to play with. We gel well in practice.

Coach too, though, coming from my experience in Kansas City, anything is better than that. Lucas’s father doesn’t deserve the role he’s been given, and even though I’m not the kind of guy who wishes bad things on people, I do with him. He’s able to get away with treating people like shit because of his money, his record, and who he is, and that’s bullshit to me.

I try to block him from my mind as I finish cooling down on my treadmill at home.

I have something to prove in a way I didn’t in Kansas City. Even though I know Coach Blake for who he is, the man has a way of getting into your head, of making you think you aren’t anything without him. He did it to Hunter, and I’m not proud to admit that sometimes even I fell for that shit.

I want to make sure the Inferno know they made a good choice in trading for me. They’re paying me a whole lot of money—more than I made in Kansas City—and I don’t want that to be for nothing.

I turn off the treadmill and head for my kitchen. I make a smoothie, then lean against the counter as I check my phone.

Like I do so often now, I head straight to the app where I’ve been talking with OnTheBeach27. For a reason I don’t understand, we message every damn day. Sometimes more than once, but we always message at least one time, and I haven’t even tried to talk to anyone else here. I have an inbox full of messages that have gone unread, unanswered, or I’ve turned them down—even the ones just asking about a quick fuck or to meet somewhere to give me head. I haven’t hooked up with anyone since I’ve been in L.A., which was the whole point in getting on this app…I think.

I’m still confused about that, which is weird because typically I’m not that kind of guy. I know what I want, and I go for it. Even with Kane, while I stayed hidden longer than I would have liked, when I couldn’t do it anymore, I walked away. It killed me, but I did it.

I click on the message, taking a drink of my strawberry-banana smoothie, and read.

OnTheBeach27: What are you up to today?

Me: Why? Wanna hang out?

OnTheBeach27: No.

OnTheBeach27: I mean…I don’t know…are you serious? I thought we were just talking, but…