“Son?”
I drag my gaze back to Coach.
He clears his throat, looking uncomfortable, like he’s about to say something earnest and would really rather be screaming at us to do suicides.
“Look,” he says. “I knew you were having some growing pains getting integrated into the team. I should have stepped in sooner. That’s on me. From where I was standing, it looked like you were making good strides with the majority of the room, aside from Mr. Jamison and, uh,” his eyes flick to Beck, then back to me. “Mr. Beckett here.”
Beck shifts beside me, ears going pink.
“But I didnotknow the circumstances behind your transfer,” Coach continues. “Or everything going on back home. I didn’t know how deep Jamison’s history with your family ran. That ignorance is on me, and I’m sorry for it.”
My throat tightens. I open my mouth to tell him it’s not his fault, that I didn’t tell anyone, that I wanted to pretend none of it existed, but no sound comes out.
“I also want to say,” he adds gruffly, “that I’m proud of you.”
My brain short-circuits. “You’re what?”
He clears his throat and repeats himself. “I’m proud of you, Miller. And I hope it’s okay for me to say that I think your father would be, too. Not just for what you do on the mat. But for the way you handled months of absolute horseshit without throwing a punch.” His mouth twists. “Between you and me, and this iscompletelyoff the record, I think you probably should have laid him out a hell of a lot sooner.”
A shocked laugh bursts out of me, half-sob, half-snort. Beck chokes on his own breath next to me.
Coach points a stern finger. “But you didn’t. You rose above it. You kept showing up. You did your job. That says a lot about who you are. This,” he taps the folder again, “says a lot about who you are. That’s why all these people went to bat for you. Don’t lose sight of that.”
I swipe a quick hand under my eyes. “Yes, sir.”
He stands abruptly, as if he’s allergic to lingering feelings. “Alright. Get out of here.”
Beck and I scramble to our feet.
For a second, I’m not sure what to do with my hands. Shake his hand? Hug him? That doesn’t feel right. Coach McCoy doesn’t really seem like a hugger.
Coach notices my hesitation and snorts. “Don’t even think about it, Miller. That’s what you’ve got Beckett for, apparently.” He cuts us both a sharp side-eye. “Just keep it out of my facility. I see enough boners in my line of work as it is. I donotneed to seeboners with intentduring my workday. They don’t pay me enough for that.”
My face goes nuclear. Beck makes a strangled noise that might be a laugh or a plea for death.
“Yes, sir,” we chorus.
Coach thrusts out his hand instead. I take it, grip firm. He squeezes once, solid.
“Thank you,” I say, and my voice cracks, but I don’t care.
He gives a curt nod, looking almost embarrassed. “Just doing my job. Now get out of my office before I change my mind and add extra conditioning as punishment for defiling my pull-up bars.”
We don’t need telling twice.
I stop just outside the doorway to Coach’s office, the folder clutched against my chest and lean back against the wall. My knees feel a little unreliable.
Beck hovers close, hand warm between my shoulder blades. “Hey,” he says softly. “You okay?”
I let out a shaky breath and nod, though I’m not sure it’s convincing. Everything inside me feels squeezed and full and hollow all at once.
Before I can start crying in the hallway like a complete mess, I turn and wrap my arms around Beck, dragging him into a hard, desperate hug. He comes willingly, chin dropping to my shoulder, arms wrapping around my back and pulling me in tight.
I bury my face against his neck and breathe. He smells like my soap mixed with his expensive cologne and the specific, undefinable scent that’s him. His hand slides up into my hair, fingers scratching lightly at my scalp.
We stay like that for a long, grounding minute. Maybe longer.
It’s only when I can finally breathe without my chest hitching that I realize how silent the hall is. How obvious we must look, two grown men wrapped around each other outside the coach’s office. And Beck doesn’t seem to mind one bit.
