I watch him go, the sway of his ass done on purpose I’m sure. He glances back, blowing me a kiss before he’s gone, slipping around the corner. I don’t move until my heart slows down. I will be late for real now, and I don’t even care.
TWENTY-FIVE
LUKE
It’s beenfour weeks since I first wore his hoodie.
Four weeks of sneaking into his bed after practice, of memorizing every look he tries not to give me in public, of pretending like we’re not something when everyone’s watching—and then being everything when no one is.
We’re… not official. Can’t be. But we’re more than secret hookups and definitely more than what we were.
At least, I think we are.
Even if I haven’t breathed a word of any of it to any of my friends. It’s hard. Especially for me. I’m so used to just sharing, of being so over the top, that keeping it quiet is strange. I sort of crave public affection, and that’s not something I’ll get with Silas. I know that. I do. But?—
He cuts off my thoughts with a sharp blow of his whistle. “Maddox, pick it up, you’re slacking.”
Right. Maddox. That’s who I am in public to him. A player.
I haven’t said those three little words that have beenchasing themselves around my brain on repeat for weeks. I love you. And he hasn’t either.
I force a grin, tossing him a lazy salute as I jog back to the drill line. “Yes, Coach.”
His eyes don’t linger on me, not even for a second. It’s fine. Normal. Whatever.
Except…it’s not. Not really.
Because the last few weeks, even with all of the sneaking around, there were still moments that made my heart flip over inside my chest. A brush of our hands when no one was looking. His voice going soft when he told me to hydrate. That one time he gave me a warning glare but his lips twitched like he wanted to laugh.
But today, there’s nothing. He’s all business, and it’s rubbing me in the wrong way.
By the time practice ends, I’m sweaty, frustrated, and overthinking every second of it. I slam my helmet into my locker and glance toward his office. The lights are on. I can see them glowing through the half-shut blinds, but the door’s closed.
Fine.
I head for the showers, dragging my feet and pretending that might stall the moment. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Maybe it’s just a bad day.
Colton and Micah flirt their way through a shower, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous. They laugh as if nothing in the world could touch them. Like it’s normal to kiss your boyfriend in front of the team. Like it’s safe.
I want that. I wanthim. And it fucking sucks that I can’t have both.
Ty and Will finish quick, tossing half-jokes at me about skipping lunch and disappearing lately, but they don’t push.They know something’s up. Probably because I haven’t slept in my own bed most nights. Haven’t been to Riot. Haven’t shown up for game night in over two weeks.
Because Silas has been everything. My gravity. My escape. My whole damn world lately.
And right now, it feels like he’s pretending I don’t exist.
I towel off, pull on clean clothes, and run my hands through my damp hair before I finally cross the locker room to his office. My heart’s pounding like I’m about to get benched.
I knock once then push the door open.
Silas doesn’t look up.
He’s behind his desk, typing something. His shoulders tense when he sees me, but he doesn’t move to wave me in.
“Something you need, Maddox?” he asks without looking away from the screen.
I blink. Maddox. Not Luke. Nothermosoor good boy oryou’re mine. Just my last name. Like I’m anyone.
