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CHAPTER 21
Theo
HORNY DEVIL: Don’t beat yourself up over today, Theo. It’s just one game.
Too late.
For a guy who supposedly had the potential to be drafted, I played like shit. I fumbled every pass and let my frustration get the better of me. Some team captain I was. Instead of keeping it together, I needed Wyatt to carry the win.
And it didn’t help that we won, or that Rhodes had been so damn nice about the whole thing. I almost wanted him to yell or make me feel bad about playing so poorly. Maybe I was an emotional masochist too because that certainly couldn’t be normal.
As a result, while everyone else took Rhodes up on his suggestion to celebrate and enjoy the win we’d gotten, I stood in a corner and sulked as I nursed a beer. I watched everyone laugh, shout, and dance as if nothing had happened. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I practically fumbled it as I pulled it out.
BABY KENNEDY: I see you pouting.
I’m not pouting.
BABY KENNEDY: Definitely pouting.
Instead of replying, I just put my phone away. No good would come from arguing with Jude about it. And so what if I was pouting? I could’ve been doing worse things, such as running to Rhodes for comfort and distraction.
Actually, that idea sounded better than this one. A few months ago, I would’ve poured whatever upset feelings I had into being with him. It was easy to let him use me until the world was nothing but the spicy scent of his cologne and the taste of him on my tongue. It was simple when he was mine.
Well… not mine.
Not really.
He’d never been mine, and that was the problem.
I took a long swig of beer, though it didn’t change anything, because Rhodes was still Rhodes. He still checked in after practices and still noticed when I was off. He still offered encouragement when I played like crap and still looked at me like I frustrated the hell out of him.
Becoming Coach Kennedy had changed all the boundaries and rules, all while he pretended the risks were too much, which was honestly bullshit. The risks hadn’t changed. They were just different. I just didn’t know how to make him see that, especially when Operation Get Rhodes Back was getting me nowhere.
“Capitan!” Jude exclaimed as he appeared out of thin air—or maybe I was just too lost in my head to notice. He threw an arm around my shoulder and dragged me against his side.
“Stop calling me that,” I said under my breath.
“Say it with me… it was one game,” he replied, his arm tightening around me.
“It was one game,” I mumbled as I brought my beer to my lips to avoid saying anything more. I knew what he was trying to do, and I wanted nothing to do with it.
“One game!” he repeated louder.
“One game,” I muttered.
“One game!” he howled.
“One game!” Wyatt echoed, also appearing out of nowhere. Jude shouted it right back as they matched each other’s enthusiasm.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth until it became impossible not to feed on their energy.
“Fine!” I yelled over them. They cheered while I chugged the warming beer, barely tasting it as it went down. I raised the empty bottle and exclaimed, “One game!”
Somehow, that led to a room-wide chant of one game—I highly doubted anyone knew where it started, but that didn’t matter. Not in a room full of drunken college students. Drinking games spread like wildfire, and before I knew it, another beer was being shoved into my hand.
