Page 51 of Last Slice of Pie

Yes, there are the standard obligatory comments of “Well done,” and “Congratulations on the win,” but outside of that it’s mainly been “Close call there, Brennen.”

What the fuck.

Did I have my best game? No. Is it a team effort? Yes. Where one fails, it’s the duty of the team to pick up the slack, but as the quarterback, I’m never allowed to fail. Every game has to be on point, and yesterday I wasn’t. Hell, the last couple of games I haven’t been, and to have my team, the team I lead and give my all to repeatedly toss concerned jabs my way—I don’t like it.

A few times throughout the evening, I catch Lexi giving me concerned looks, but I smile at her as if nothing is wrong and either redirect the conversation, lead her off for some more food, or ask her to dance.

“You okay?” she asks, handing me a piece of black-eyed pea bruschetta. It’s a Southern tradition to eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day, one meant to bring good luck, and all of us are superstitious enough heading into the playoffs that we’ll follow any tradition of any kind if it means even the possibility of good luck.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her, simultaneously taking a bite and tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear.

“You sure? Because I’m catching some serious uncomfortable vibes coming from you.”

Looking past her shoulder, I stare at a light shining across the water. “Do you hear them?”

“I do, but who cares?”

“I care.” I frown.

“It’s just conversation. They have nothing else to talk about. Christmas is over, y’all have all caught up with each other, and they’re excited about the next game. Tonight isn’t any different from any other get-together after any other game. They’re gonna break it down, and then in two weeks, it’ll be something completely different.”

“I hear you, but it’s already been two weeks, four weeks. I just need it to stop.” I grab my beer bottle off the table and take a long pull, emptying half of it. She’s watching me, trying to figure out how to handle me, and I hate it.

“You know we can leave whenever you want. There’s plenty we can do at your house to ring in the new year.” Her concerned gaze morphs into a seductive smile, and it cracks a little of the tension wrapped around me.

“I know.” I trail my fingers down her arm and watch as goose bumps chase them. “Trust me, I have every intention of kicking off this year with fireworks of our own, but I like showing you off. You in this dress is something else.”

A tiny blush pinkens her cheeks as she takes a step closer to me. My hand slips around her waist to her lower back, and I pull her flush against me. She rests her hands on my chest, and it soothes some of the inner turmoil I’m dealing with.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she says. I watch her lips as they move, plump and glossy.

“I wasn’t going to be anywhere without you tonight. Where you are is where I am,” I quietly tell her.

She smiles, wraps her fingers around the lapels of my coat, and pulls as she rises up on her toes. My lips fall to hers and the noise in my head quiets. Maybe this is the trick; maybe I just need to kiss her all night, or maybe I just need her. When it’s just us, everything feels better, and with that thought, Reid’s voice echoes through the speakers.

“Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and teammates.” Chuckles ripple across the crowd. “I’ll keep this short as it’s almost midnight, but Camille and I wanted to say thank you to everyone for coming tonight and spending New Year’s Eve with us. We know y’all have many places you could be and you chose here, so thanks again. As we ring in the new year, I would be remiss if I didn’t give a shout-out to the one that’s ending. After all, some amazing things happened.” He looks over at Camille, and whistles rip through the air. “I can’t imagine this next year being better than the last, but I welcome it with open arms.” He bends down to kiss her and then pops up, grinning. “I mean, how many seasons have we gone undefeated?!” The guys roar, and I find their happiness infectious. “I’d like to make a toast, so raise your glasses. As we head into the new year, I hope it brings each of you good luck and happiness, and may all our dreams come true.”

Someone coughs the words “Super Bowl championship,” and the crowd cheers through laughter.

“Happy New Year’s, everyone!”

Jack sidles up next to me as we all raise our glasses, and after I’ve clinked mine with Lexi’s, I turn to face him. I’ve caught him watching me several times throughout the night, and I can’t even give him a hard time about it. He knows me that well, and I know he’s heard all the little comments made tonight.

“You know it’s just noise, right?”

I don’t answer him; he can read my nonverbal cues. I’m also proud enough not to give credence to their gossip. Admitting it would mean I believe it’s true, and it’s not.

“I’ll be on the field at ten tomorrow morning. Think you’ll be ready by then?” he asks, even though I know he’s really asking about my mental state. He wants the negativity gone and me, his quarterback, focused on what’s next, not what’s passed.

“I’m always ready,” I tell him definitively. Fake it till you make it, I tell myself. This too shall pass.

“That’s my boy!” He again knocks his drink with mine and grins from ear to ear as we swallow them down in one go.

Around us, people start counting down, and Lexi wraps herself around me. I wish I would have enjoyed tonight more. It’s amazing to be undefeated and heading into the playoffs, I’m surrounded by my friends, and I’m with Lexi—my Lexi. The only thing missing is James, but outside of that, everything is as it should be. It’s perfect.

Only tonight I don’t feel perfect.

I feel uneasy.