“Yeah,” I say, my voice raspy. “I really fucking do.”
Fox’s face relaxes into a smile. “The way he looks at you, I don’t doubt he feels the same way.”
The tightness behind my ribs twists, awareness that I could lose him paining me. “For whatever that’s worth.”
“It’s worth everything,” Fox says sternly.
“I hope so.”
He nods to my guitar. “Play that song for me again, will you?”
“I don’t know.” I hesitate, my hand near the guitar. “It’s not finished.”
“That’s fine. I want to hear it. And do me a favor. Listen carefully yourself.”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but I’m too emotionally wrecked to argue. Without another word, I lift the guitar and start back into the song, “I Saw His Eyes.”
My fingers are stiff and confused, and my voice catches on every lyric. But I force myself to keep playing, summoning the song through the onslaught of memories. I remember the pure, contented happiness on Spencer’s face when I first played it for him in Miami, and by the time I draw out the last notes, tears are welling in my eyes.
“Did you hear that?” Fox asks simply.
“Hear what?”
“That’s the best song you’ve ever written, Gabriel.”
I blink, shocked by his response. “You think so?”
“I do. It’s raw. Honest.” He rubs his chin. “Fucking beautiful, too.”
“Thank you,” I manage, not sure what else to say.
Fox stands. “It’s not my business what you do with your relationship. My job is just to help you navigate all the other crap. But I’ll tell you this. When I hear that song, I hear a man who is totally, completely in love. You can do all the media interviews you want, spend the rest of your life locked up in the recording studio. But none of that will matter if you don’t make things right with your man, first.”
I look up at him. The sorrow is still there, choking me from inside. Every past breakup and betrayal is still hissing in my ear, insisting that I’m not good enough. That Spencer will leave me.
But I know that Fox is right, too. Not just about the music and my career.
Spencer is my man. He’s the person I’ve been looking for my entire life. And no matter what else happens, I can’t let those doubts win. I need to do anything and everything that I can to make this right and show him the love he deserves.
We’re meant for each other, and just like Fox said, I can hear that truth as clearly as the music I wrote for him.
* * *
SPENCER
I’m battling for survival in the last set of my third match, barely holding onto my lead. My opponent keeps rushing the net before I have a chance to establish myself, taking advantage of every slip that upsets my game.
I know the world is watching, especially since Gabriel’s fight with my father continues to dominate the headlines, but I somehow manage to stay present. My muscles remember how to play, and once adrenaline grips me, my brain goes quiet.
I survive and eke out another win. The crowd goes wild for me, and cameras flash, but it shouldn’t have been this close.
Back in the hotel shower, I wrestle through my emotions and all the new questions that are rising up.
Everything seemed so good, but maybe I was right all along. Maybe the pressure of being an out athlete is more than I can handle.
Because right now, no matter how much I try to focus on my game, all I can think about is how much I want my man.
If I can’t win and be his husband, what am I supposed to do?
