I frowned. “Of course it’s good, but does it help?”
“You’ve seen us help people, Emmy.” He looked confused for a second.
“Of course, but I’m not talking about anyone else right now. Dakota, I’m talking about you. Does it help you?” I asked and reached out to place my other hand on his jaw so he wouldn’t look away. “Is anyone helping you? Have your teammates, the ones who knew about your coaches talked you through things? Have they checked in?”
“I live with David and Kevin,” Dakota explained. His tone was a little hollow, an indication he wasn’t referring to the same kind of check-in I was referring to. “We check in with each other every day.”
“Genuine check-ins?” I didn’t even pretend to sound convinced. “Because I know exactly how guys act when things are too awkward for them. I live with three, and at no point do they feel like baring their soul when they’re hurt.”
“I’m not hurt anymore, Emmy. There’s no need to bare my soul.”
“You sure?”
His jaw tightened a little. “Positive. I passed hurt a long time ago. Now, I’m just angry. And tired. God, if only I knew how not to be so tired all the time.”
The sigh released from his lips made me want to pull him in for a hug. I leaned in to the urge, wrapping my arms around his neck. Dakota didn’t hesitate to return the hug. His large arms squeezed around me and nose buried into my neck.
“Of course you’re tired,” I whispered. “You were hurt. And you’ve been helping other hurt people while you’re still bleeding.”
He pulled me in tighter. I felt his fingers spread across my back.
“I want to let it go, you know? Let other people in,” he said. “But it’s always there. Looming and waiting with power that I supply it.”
I shook my head, pulling back for a moment. “You didn’t make this. Fuck the people who did and fuck that feeling that you’re supplying the trauma. You’ve literally been growing things in their place. I know it helps to mourn a bit. To scream and yell and be angry. I don’t pretend to know how it feels to be harmed in such a horrible way, but I do know, anger can help. It’s a part of process of moving forward.”
Dakota studied me in silence for a moment, taking in my words as he thought. “I did try anger. Once.”
I tilted my head, curious. “How did it turn out?”
“Let’s just say, it was a big mistake. One I’ve been paying for.”
“Paying for?”
He shook his head as if the words weren’t as weighted as they sounded. “Paying for might not be the proper phrasing. I have these friends and their lingo kind of rubs off.”
“What kind of friends?” Because this was starting to sound a lot like the Lawrence kind of friend. Debt to Lawrence wasn’t fun at all.
“Friends from last year. Guys who make it their business to know everyone else’s,” he shared.
I sighed because if that didn’t sound like Lawrence then, I don’t know what did.
“Dakota, can I ask you something that might be a bit painful considering last year? I don’t want to push you any more than you need tonight. I know you sharing this has been a lot and exhausting.”
“Yeah, definitely didn’t think a night beginning with dinosaur movies would end in me telling you one of my bigger secrets.” He nodded with a carefree smile resumed on his face. “But I’ve gotten this far. What’s one more question?”
I chewed on my lip, considering for a moment what one more question could bring. In the end, I decided to dive in because I needed to know. Because if Dakota was tied up with Lawrence, then I wanted to help him. Or at least warn him that none of the shit that guy got into was worth the trouble.
“Do you know Lawrence Griffin?” I asked. “He was here last year and had a hand in your coach’s firing. I’m sure he knew the quarterback from last year too. Weston? I don’t know if you two were close.”
Dakota took a second to respond but finally answered, “Lawrence? I’ve met him once, but I don’t know the guy.”
“You sure?” I studied his face, taking in the slight downward tilt of his brow.
“Yeah. Why?” He sounded as curious as me now.
“I knew him a while back.” I shrugged, trying to keep my voice light. “He’s a friend of sorts.”
Dakota moved back a little. “Of sorts?”
