“Listen to me, Nathan. It’s not your fault. Your mom was sick, and you were a child. She decided to take her life, and that wasn’t because of you. You can’t blame yourself. I know no one else does.” I whisper the final part, and Nathan dips his head in a nod. He studies every inch of my face, tongue skating across the front of his teeth. His nostrils flare, and he leans forward to kiss my forehead softly, making my stomach backflip.
“I’ve never told anyone other than Poppy, Bennett and Evan that before.” He runs a finger along my collarbone and down my shoulder, his eyes following the movement. “Thank you for not judging me.”
I smile at him. “I would never judge you.”
“How are you feeling?”
I contemplate for a few seconds before saying, “Better. I just needed… a cry. Thank you for letting me stay over.”
We glance at each other once more before letting our heads hit the pillows, and I feel his hand grip mine and squeeze it before he pulls the comforter up to tuck me in.
“Anytime, princess.”
22: Nathan
I’ve never opened up to anyone like that. Never told them the whole story. Never told them how it affects me on the daily.
But seeing Mae cry broke my fucking heart right in half. Especially because it was over her witch of a mother.
I wanted to divert her attention somewhere else for a minute. To let her know she wasn’t alone.
I’d offered her to stay and have breakfast, but we both decided it wouldn’t look good if we showed up at this morning’s practice together. We’re partners, yes, but some things would just look suspicious.
We have a game tomorrow. The team is prepared, as far as I’m concerned. We’ve been playing well, but my stomach sinks knowing my father will be attending. Now that the Super Bowl is approaching, he’s becoming more demanding, and his pressuring texts haven’t gone unnoticed.
I can’t wait to retire so I never have to see his face again. It’ll be like Christmas. I’m counting down the days.
“How’s your hamstring, Nathan?” Cam asks me as I walk into the locker room, and I stare at him. His sister was in my bed last night, and he has no idea. Granted, nothing happened between us, but somehow, consoling one another felt far more intimate than if we were to lock lips. There’s something about confiding in someone else when, for the most part, you’ve been silent, which makes you realise how far you’ve fallen.
How deep you are.
How deepIam.
Because Mae Bexley does something to me—something no other woman has ever done. She makes me forget about my problems. She makes me feel alive again. Likemeagain, and fuck, he’s been lost for a long time.
“It should be good for the game tomorrow. Thanks, man,” I tell Cam. It could use a massage, but I want to avoid him. The last thing I want is his reminder that Mae doesn’t need this. Doesn’t needme.
Irritation begins to grow.
Because I want her.
But she still feels so out of reach, knowing she’s leaving at the end of the season.
I can’t help but imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around me, arms laced around my neck, with her lips chanting my name into my neck as I slip my cock into her.
Fuck.
Getting a boner in front of Cam wasn’t on the cards today, so I nod at him and quickly head out of the locker room towards the field.
My eyes immediately land on Mae, and they widen when I see she’s wearing my jersey from last night—the one that clearly saysSlaterin bold on the back. She’s got her honey-coloured hair down, so the embroidery is slightly covered, and luckily, only Sophia, Madison, Bennett and Sam are here.
Renee and Darrell have yet to arrive for the pre-practice meeting.
Mae turns to me, and I beckon her over to the tunnel with my head, where no one can see us.
She gazes up at me with her hazel eyes that capture me every time, and I shake my head, pinching the jersey's material as I back her up against the wall. “Are you trying to get me in trouble, princess?”
Confusion masks her face briefly before she fists the jersey, her lips popping open. “Oh, fuck.”
