I replayed that “No comment,” watching Miles’s expression, the pinch of his brows and the bleakness of his eyes.Miles was always an optimist, but there was nothing hopeful in his face in that clip.The bruised circles under his eyes suggested he wasn’t sleeping well.If Miles had hoped for a joyful engagement to Avery, he sure wasn’t getting one.
My chest ached, watching him, reading the stories and, in a moment of masochism or sadism or a bit of both, the comments underneath.Her fault for dating a queer man.Her fault for being a frigid virgin, with no past boyfriends.His fault for being bisexual, because bi means they always cheat.He’s gay and she’s a beard.Can’t trust the queers.He’s always been a liar, look at…followed by some long-forgotten moment on the field where he supposedly took a dive and convinced the blind refs.I’d have laughed about the obsession with his playing days, if it didn’t remind me how nuts sports fans could be.
Hopefully, Miles was smart enough to stay away from the toxic chatter, and to encourage Avery to do the same.She was young, attractive, had seemed quiet and nominally straight, so the rare mentions I’d found of her up till a week ago had never been worse than “Her art is weird.”This morass of sexual insults dragging her into the mud must be a shock to her.
Miles was a protective guy.Not being able to keep the woman he loved from being smeared by his personal shit must’ve been killing him.I was sure the guy claiming Miles fucked him was lying.Miles was many things, but never, ever a cheater.However, his “No comment” was probably smarter than futilely trying to prove he didn’t sleep with someone.
Our bus arrived back at the arena, and we all stretched and cursed as we filed out the door.We retrieved our bags from the luggage compartment and Coach said, “Tomorrow’s a day off.Rest up.I wasnothappy with the special teams or our defense on this roadie.I’ll see you all here bright and early on Tuesday, ready to work.Now go home.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.Even though it was only four in the afternoon, I was going to head back to my place, eat, and hit the sack.
Except those pictures of Miles and all the nasty words kept echoing in my head.I picked up takeout on my way to the apartment I shared with two community college students.Once home, I ate, stuffed all my gross clothes in the hamper, and dropped onto my bed.My body hurt, especially my left hip where I’d been checked into the boards, and my knee, same as always.Usually, I could ignore the aches, but this time, I tossed and turned, unable to relax.
Finally, I sat up and grabbed my phone.Seven p.m.on a Sunday night.Miles would probably be with Avery, and regardless, he wouldn’t want to hear from me.I thought about texting, something banal like “Sorry the media’s being douchebags,” but I was hit with the need to say more.To give him the apology I owed him, at last, and do something right for a change.I couldn’t help hitting that contact I’d avoided for a year.
To my shock, the call went through and his phone rang.I guess he really did unblock me at some point.The ringing went on long enough I was sure I was going to get voicemail, and I frantically tried to assemble something to say, but at the last moment, Miles answered.
“Logan?”
“Uh, yeah.Hey.Long time no talk.”
“You might say that.”Miles sounded even more tired than I was.“What do you want?I’m kind of busy.”
That curt response was no doubt my cue to say goodbye and leave Miles alone, but after all this time, I had to at least say, “I wanted to tell you I’m really sorry.For everything.And congratulations.I hope you’re happy.I saw all the bullshit you’re going through, and if there’s something I can do to help, just tell me.”
I gave myself a pat on the back for sounding so mature, even when the familiar echo of Miles’s voice vibrated in my bones.
After a long pause, Miles said, “Thank you.That’s unexpected.”
“I should’ve apologized a long time ago.”
“I didn’t call you either.”Indecipherable sounds on the other end interrupted us.I heard Miles mutter “Shit,” away from the phone.Then he was back.“Anyhow, I’ve got to go.Maybe we can—” He broke off to mutter, “Ouch.Motherfucker.I can’t…” He huffed a couple of effortful breaths.For a second, I imagined I’d caught him mid-sex, and humiliation flushed through me, but then he muttered, “Fucking motherfucking thing,” and that was not a sex tone of voice.
I should’ve let him get back to whatever, but some reflex inside me rose up and made me ask, “Can I help?”
“Help?”
“Whatever’s making you sound like you’re being bag-skated.”
“Hah.Yeah, not your problem.”
“No, but…” I wanted to say I’d never been able to stop caring about him, but that was my issue, not his.Instead, I said, “I still like you, Buckner, and I’ve got nothing else to do tonight.”
Miles paused again, long enough that I expected him to hang up, but then he said, “Shit.You know?I could use some help.If you’re here in Eugene, that is?”
“Here, ready, and willing.”I rolled out of bed, stuffing my feet into sneakers as I spoke.“What do you need from me and where?”
“God, Logan.”Something in his voice caught at me, the way he said my name as if he’d missed me too.He cleared his throat.“If you’re sure?I’ll owe you a big one.”
I was pretty sure I owed him more than that, but I didn’t say so.
“I’ll text you the address.It’s Avery’s dad’s house.”Miles sighed.“Park down the street, okay, and walk to the gates.I’ll be here to let you in.”
“Gates.”I pulled a jacket over my sweats and clattered down the stairs to the front door.“Sounds fancy.”
“Way too fucking fancy.”
My phone pinged a message, right below those blocked ones.An address across town.“Fifteen minutes,” I told Miles as I jogged out to my car.
