I slowed, hanging back near a high-top table where a few of the offensive linemen were arguing about something on someone’s phone. From here, I could watch without interrupting.
Jenkins clapped Tanner on the shoulder—too hard, the way he did with everyone—and Tanner barely flinched. Progress. Jenkins’s girlfriend said something that made Tanner’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he leaned forward, hands moving as he explained something. I caught fragments of “load distribution,” “impact tolerance,” and something about bone density that made Jenkins look completely lost but impressed anyway.
“Your boy’s fitting in.” Davis appeared at my elbow, nursing a fresh beer. “Jenkins looks like he’s getting a physics lecture.”
My stomach dropped. I kept my expression neutral, but something must have flickered across my face because Davis glanced at me sideways.
“Relax, man. I just meant—” He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “You brought him. You’ve been watching him all night like you’re worried he’s gonna bolt. Clearly, he matters to you.” His tone was easy, unbothered. “Nothing wrong with that.”
I didn’t know what to say. The silence stretched a beat too long.
Davis bumped his shoulder against mine. “Hey. Whatever’s going on with you— Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. No judgment.” He nodded toward Tanner. “He seems good for you. That’s all I care about.”
The tightness in my chest loosened, just a fraction. I swallowed hard.
“Thanks,” I managed.
“Don’t mention it.” Davis turned his attention back to the bar, giving me an out. “Seriously, though, Jenkins looks completely lost over there.”
“Biomechanics,” I said without thinking. “Sounds like someone got him talking about his research on helmet design.”
“Right, the concussion stuff.” Davis tilted his head, watching the three of them. “He’s pretty smart, huh?”
“Yeah.” The word came out softer than I intended. “He is.”
“Good for you, man. Having a roommate who can actually hold a conversation. Better than my freshman year—my roommate’s entire vocabulary was ‘bro’ and ‘dude.’”
I huffed a laugh, but my attention was already drifting back to Tanner. Jenkins’s girlfriend was laughing at something now, and Tanner had that surprised look he got whenever he made someone laugh—like he hadn’t expected it to work.
Terrence wandered over to their group next, sliding in with his easy grin and a fresh round of drinks. He set a beer in front of Tanner, who looked momentarily startled by the gesture. Terrence said something I couldn’t hear, and Tanner’s mouth quirked into a half-smile as he responded. Terrence threw his head back and laughed—genuine, not performative—and bumped Tanner’s shoulder with his own.
Something loosened in my chest. Tanner was doing it. He was surviving this room full of gray and gold, this celebration ofeverything that had taken so much from him, and he was doing it because I’d asked. Because he wanted to be part of my world.
I couldn’t stand back any longer.
I crossed the remaining distance to the bar, weaving through a cluster of alumni reliving the third-quarter interception. Terrence spotted me first and grinned.
“There he is. I was just telling Tanner about the time you tried to convince Coach that the wishbone formation was making a comeback.”
“It has strategic value,” I said automatically. “In specific situations.”
Terrence shook his head, still grinning. “All right, I’m gonna go make sure Davis doesn’t start another argument about the coverage scheme. Tanner, good talking to you, man.”
He disappeared into the crowd, and Jenkins and his girlfriend drifted toward the pool tables a moment later, leaving Tanner and me alone at the bar.
“Having fun?” I asked.
“That’s a strong word.” But his mouth twitched. “Jenkins’s girlfriend is nice. She’s in veterinary medicine. We talked about stress fractures in racehorses, and then she asked about what I’ve been working on.”
“Sounds riveting.”
“It actually was.” He set down his beer, and I noticed he’d barely touched it. “You don’t have to keep checking on me.”
“I know.”
“So stop hovering and go do your thing. I’m fine. Really.”
I leaned against the bar beside him, close enough that our shoulders touched. No one was paying attention. Everyone was too drunk, too happy, too wrapped up in their own celebrations.
