“Almost doesn’t count,” Cam interrupts. “Did you tell her how you feel about her? In actual words? Or did you just expect her to read your mind?”
I fidget with a resistance band hanging nearby, twisting it between my fingers. “I wrote an inscription in the book. About finding out how our story ends.”
Kade rolls his eyes. “That sounds a little cryptic. Women aren’t mind readers, Dylan. Sometimes they need to hear the words, explicitly.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same way I do?” The question comes out more vulnerable than I’ve allowed myself to be in front of my teammates. Maybe ever.
“What if she does?” Kade counters. “Sometimes you gotta risk a little pain for something real.”
The word hits harder than I expect.
I stare at the floor, anywhere but at my teammates’ faces. “There’s something I’ve never told anyone on the team,” I let out. “Something that happened in high school.”
They wait, giving me space to continue.
“There was this girl—Jessica. My first serious girlfriend. We dated for a year. I was completely in love with her. Thought we’d end up together, as crazy as that sounds now. I was fifteen, what did I know?” I attempt a laugh that falls flat. “Anyway, I had this whole date night mapped out for our one-year anniversary—I was gonna take her to dinner and then take her stargazing. It was this whole romantic plan to tell her I loved her.”
I swallow hard, the memory still bitter after all these years. “I caught her hooking up with my supposed best friend and teammate the day before. In the locker room. She didn’t evenseem that sorry about it. Said she’d been trying to figure out how to break up with me for weeks.”
The gym is silent except for the distant hum of the ventilation system and the muted clanging of weights from somewhere else in the facility.
“After that, I guess I decided it was easier not to get too invested in relationships. To have fun, keep it casual, and always be the one who leaves first.” I look up finally, meeting their pained gazes. “And it’s worked fine until now. Until Cheyenne.”
“So let me get this straight,” Blaze says, sitting down beside me. “You’re letting something that happened when you were fifteen dictate your entire adult life? Preventing you from going after something real with Cheyenne?”
Put that way, it sounds ridiculous. Childish, even. But the fear is real.
“You gotta go after what you want, man,” Blaze continues, his voice earnest. “Life’s too short for maybes. Take it from someone who wasted years pretending to be ‘just friends’ with the woman I loved. If I hadn’t finally taken that chance with Addy, I’d still be miserable, watching her from a distance.”
“He’s right,” Kade says, moving closer. “And if you don’t speak up now, you’ll regret it. And trust me, you don’t want to live with the type of regrets that I did. I’m lucky Ella even gave me a second chance, but it took nine long years to find our way back to each other. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
Cam, who’s been quiet, finally contributes to the conversation. “You’re being an idiot,” he says bluntly. “You’re not fifteen anymore, Dylan. Stop acting like it.” Then, his voice softening slightly, he adds, “But for what it’s worth, I think she’d be lucky to have you.”
Coming from Cam, that’s practically a Hallmark card.
I feel something tighten in my throat.
“What if I’m too late?” I ask.
“Then at least you tried.” Kade shrugs. “At least you were brave enough to be honest with her. That counts for something.”
“And if she chooses that tech tool over you, she’s not as smart as we thought she was,” Cam adds with a snort.
“Which she won’t,” Blaze insists. “Because she likes you too. It’s obvious to everyone except you, apparently.”
The three of them are looking at me with varying expressions of support—Blaze’s enthusiastic optimism, Cam’s gruff certainty, Kade’s steady confidence.
“I don’t know what to say to her,” I admit. “Or how to fix this.”
“The truth is usually a good start,” Kade says, zipping up his now perfectly organized bag. “Just tell her how you feel.”
“Or you can keep sitting here feeling sorry for yourself,” Cam adds, standing up from the bench. “Your choice.”
One by one, they gather their things. Blaze slaps me on the back as he passes, his usual enthusiasm somehow comforting. “You got this, bro. Just be honest with her.”
Cam gives me a gruff nod, which from him is practically equal to a hug. “Don’t overthink it. That’s when you screw up.”
Kade is the last to leave, pausing to squeeze my shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen how she looks at you across the room. I don’t think this is one-sided.”
