He laughs, and my skin heats to a thousand degrees. “No, man, you’re not perfect, but to the outside, you’re just a privileged boy who’s never wanted for anything a day in your life. I know that’s not true. I’ve seen how long and hard you’ve worked, all you’ve lost, and why this game is everything. But you never let anyone see that.”
He pauses, and I stand, needing to move before I come unglued with the lifetime of assumptions and expectations piled high around me.
“You’re scared to let people see you struggle or fail. Hell, you won’t even be honest about how miserable you’ve been or stand up to those assholes you call teammates for fear they might see you get a little ruffled. You’ve locked yourself up in your tower, away from everyone and everything, even your family, because it’s better than letting anyone see that Cole Matthews deals with the same shit the rest of us do.”
His words drop like a thousand-pound weight on my very last nerve.
I inhale, ready to breathe fire. “This game is all I ever had. From day one, I’ve been watched, evaluated, manipulated, used, and held to every standard, just waiting for me to fall short. I’ve never known what it’s like to not have every part of my life dissected and twisted to help others make a living. I can’t even breathe without someone having an opinion on how well I’m doing it.”
I pull air into my lungs that won’t expand.
“I play football, and I’m damn good at it. It’s all anyone has ever expected of me. The only thing that’s ever given me purpose or value.”
Something shifts, and part of the pressure encapsulating my body lifts with that truth.
I run a hand through my hair, wanting to pull it out.
I release my grip along with a slow breath. “Allowing anything else in would’ve only given the press something to feed on. Women scoring a few nights in my bed and what they could gain from it. Just a distraction that would have held me back and lethimdown. His legacy. His memory. The only thing I have left.”
I drop on the edge of the bed, knowing it’s so fucked up. But telling me that even six months ago would have been as good as talking to a brick wall.
“I don’t know how to do this differently or have any idea what I’d do without it.”
It’s my pathetic reality, but I have to figure it out. I have to have something besides football.
The line is silent, and Ryder’s face burns in the back of my mind. The truth is, I don’t deserve her. Not even a little. I’ve been trying to measure up to a man I’ll never be, and he wouldn’t want me to. None of this is what he would have wanted.
“Shit.” Nick’s somber tone hurts.
He waits, but when I don’t answer, his low voice returns.
“Maybe you need to quit hiding from the world and let them see you’re just like the rest of us. An imperfect guy who’s still trying to figure out how to live life.”
I sit up, knowing he’s right. At this point, I’ve got nothing to lose.
“I’m supposed to take that advice from you?” I ask, letting my emotional outburst settle.
“I’ve never pretended to not be a miserable asshole, but you’re not. You’re too good a man to be anything like me. So don’t give up. Give her time to come around and see what she’s missing. In the meantime, take charge of your life and figure out what you want. Let these jackasses finally understand who they’re really dealing with because it’s not your old man.”
I’m not my dad, and it’s time to stop believing I need to be.
“It almost sounds like you have a little hope floating around in all that cynicism.”
“Shit, man.” He huffs a laugh. “Just make sure you kick ass this weekend. For you, not anyone else.”
We hang up, and I lie back on my bed again, staring at the ceiling.
Give her time.
That’s what I’m doing, but at the moment, it doesn’t seem to be changing anything. So, for now, I have to get back to football, but on my terms.
I just have to figure out what those are and how to build a life to match them.
Chapter 41
RYDER
I hang my backpack and kick off my shoes.
