We run in silence for a few minutes before Hakeem asks, “How do you feel about teammates dating?” He pauses. “Or just fucking around?”
“You’re not required to disclose who you’re in bed with, Hakeem,” I say.
He laughs and shakes his head. “No. But some teams have a ‘no fornication with teammates’ policy.”
I think about this for a minute. “I’m not sure I’ve read if we have one.”
Hakeem grins. “Usually, it’s the coach’s call. Our coach before you didn’t care, but I’m not sure he cared about much. However, I’d like to know whether you care or not.”
“Ah. I suppose I don’t as long as there’s no drama, and it doesn’t affect your game or the team,” I tell him.
He’s pleased with this.
“Who—? Nope. Never mind. I’m not sure I’m allowed to ask about your personal life.”
His laughter is loud. “I will volunteer that I’m interested in Seth.”
I raise a brow. “Doesn’t he have two boyfriends and a girlfriend already?”
“Yes,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But not because he’s polyamorous. It’s because he’s shit at telling someone he’s no longer interested, so instead of having the hard conversations, he hides out under his net until they complain that he’s never around and they think they should see other people.”
“He waits for them to break up with him?” I ask before I can stop myself.
With a wide smile, Hakeem nods. “Coward,” he mutters, but I can tell he’s teasing.
“I see,” I say.
Hakeem continues to tell me about Seth’s partners and then other teammates. I protest that maybe they don’t want their personal lives shared, but he just waves me off, telling me that if I were here when there were more of them, I’d hear it all, anyway. They don’t care who’s listening. We’re family.
For some reason, that makes my chest warm. My teams always felt like family. I’m really glad that my students feel like that too.
I spend the next few hours listening to Hakeem, then Leo, and then Damari and Braxton. By the time I leave the gym, I feel a little lighter. Maybe I’m having my mid-life crisis a little early, but at least I don’t have the kind of drama that these kids do. Although, I suppose it’s not drama. Most of it was gossip.
However, a cloud hangs over me throughout the day. It gets bigger and darker. When it’s time for me to leave, I text Jessica and tell her I’m working late. But instead of going home, I head back into the gym.
I remain on campus until it gets dark, and I have to admit that I’ve been here far too long. But I still can’t bring myself to go home. I can’t face Jessica, knowing that I’ve just had my dick down someone else’s throat.
Chills raise gooseflesh along my arms as I imagine telling my wife what happened today. Would she be angry? No, probably not. That’s not Jessica. She’d be hurt. Devastated.That’swho she is as a person. Kind, soft, sweet.
And I hurt her.
When I finally get home, the house is dark. As I’d hoped it would be so I could prolong seeing my wife. I head into the kitchen and find a note on the counter.
There’s dinner in the fridge. Orange lid. I hope your day wasn’t horrible.
I love you.
I wince and hang my head. More than anything, I wish I could convince myself that this would never happen again. I won’t let Lemon—or anyone else, for that matter—touch me. I won’t kiss another person.
The thing is, I’m not good at lying. Not even to myself. I would love to say I’m strong enough to push him away, but… there’s something about Lemon Frost that might make me unable to say no.
It’s almost painful knowing that itwillhappen again and yet, the way my gut churns in anticipation?
I’m an awful person.
CHAPTER 11
LEMON
