“Are you going to throw up?” Cooper questioned, only half-serious.
Matteo’s eyes flashed open, and then…
“I know about Luke,” he whispered.
Time stopped, or seemed to. A gust of wind blew past Cooper, but he reckoned he was only imagining it. His heart raced and slowed at the same time, but all he knew was that his breath was ripped from him and his heart pounded against his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve never told anyone and I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Cooper pushed the door gently to a close, and held hishead against it as Matteo continued, “I get it, though. This horrible thing happened to you and you have to live with that alone. It makes you angry at the world, but it’s not going to get better on its own.”
“Youdon’t know what you’re talking about,” Cooper said, gravel in his throat.
“Tell me I’m wrong and I’m wrong,” Matteo pleaded, but how was any of this his business?
Cooper turned to Matteo, and locked eyes with him. A stillness fell over Cooper. A quiet followed like the entire world went silent except for the commentator on the TV attributing the defeat to the actions of the Cobras quarterback, to the rage-fueled attack on the opponents team.
And Cooperwasangry.
At the world who didn’t know.
At his mother’s machinations.
At Stassi for letting him live in the comfort of this fucking cage they built together.
At the sport he loved that wouldn’t love him back if it knew the truth.
At Luke for making him stop the fucking car in the middle of the road, for leaving him to do this on his own.
At Nico for reminding him of what he lost on that road.
Not the man, but the feeling.
Currently, he was the most mad at Matteo for daring to utter the words he spent an entire lifetime trying to bury.
“Tell me it’s none of my business, and then it’s none of my business.” Matteo’s words cut through the silence. “But as your friend, as your teammate, as someone who looks up to you, I want you to get better.” Matteo placed a gentlehand on Cooper’s shoulder before shuffling past him, towards the door Cooper wished he would have exited without saying a word. “And maybe that means talking to someone professional. Maybe it means talking to a friend.”
Cooper couldn’t face Matteo, but before the man left, he just needed an answer to one question. “How did you find out about Luke?”
It took entirely too long for Matteo to answer. “You just told me.”
Cooper twisted on his feet, realizing he had been played. What should have felt like anger felt more like comfort, more like not feeling so fucking alone. “I didn’t say shit.”
Matteo nodded. “You didn’t say shit.”
“And you’re not going to say shit?”
Matteo nodded. “Not a word.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter Seventeen
february 2023 - los angeles
As it turns out,making it to the playoffs was the golden ticket to owning a beach home in Malibu. The endorsements came flooding in—Nike, Tiffany, and BMW—and as soon as the ink was dry, Nico bought his new abode. It was smaller than most in the area, but was situated right on the beach just off the Pacific Coast Highway.
Nico stood on the balcony overlooking the back deck and took a gulp from a bottle of grape pedialyte to sate the throbbing in his head. The morning sun beat down upon him while the waves crashed upon the shore below. The sight, and the sounds, were enough to make him momentarily forget how bad he fucked up in the Wild Card playoff game. Old habits came back with a vengeance as he rushed straight into the fourth concussion of his career. The Knights still won that game, but lost the divisional playoffgame the following week. Management didn’t blame Nico to his face, but he reckoned there were talks about his reckless behavior in boardroom meetings he wasn’t privy to.
