Page 122 of The Play

“Don’t worry, it’s cute,” Riley said, cracking a smile.

Deacon wanted to argue and say it wasn’t, that it couldn’t be, but wasn’t it adorable when Grant blushed? When his cheeks flushed bright red and he stared at Deacon like he couldn’t quite believe he was real?

“So, Jem tell you not to blame yourself?” Riley asked, not letting Deacon relax for even a moment.

“Yes,” Deacon said cautiously.

“And you don’t believe him, right?” Riley said.

Deacon didn’t know what this was—but he did know that instead of Riley coming up to him and comforting him, he should be the one apologizing. Yet, here Riley was anyway, with not even a hint of blame in his expression as he gazed at Deacon.

“I don’t know what to believe.”

“Yes, you do,” Riley said firmly. “If you’re going to say you let us down, sure, maybe, yes, it was a distraction this week. Nate went around the whole week moping, and you looked like a thundercloud half the time and loopy the rest, and we couldn’t move the ball if our lives depended on it. But it’s not just you. You two were crazy about each other before you did anything about it. And that email would’ve come out regardless, with all the noise it inevitably generated. Shit happens. We have to be able to move past it if we want to be better. If we want to be the team I know we can be.”

“And we didn’t do that.” It wasn’t really a question, but a statement. It felt weird, not taking full responsibility. Deacon didn’t think he liked it.

“No,” Riley said. “We let the storm consume us, instead of us fighting the storm. And that’s on us. If we’re free to be together, like Landry and me, and Beck and Micah, then we can’t blame your relationship for derailing us. That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Deacon pointed out dryly.

“No, but neither is you taking all the blame. Which you were doing.”

“I—”

“No,” Riley said firmly. “No.”

“It’s just that I . . .” Deacon swallowed hard. “I always want, I always need . . .”

Did he really have to voice it?

Probably not.

But Riley did anyway, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. “You want to save everyone. You want to be the knight in shining armor for the whole goddamn team. And you can’t be. Not always. Especially not when it’s on all of us.”

“Right.” Deacon had thought he’d sound more hesitant. Not quite convinced. But his voice said it all. He thought . . .well, he’d be damned, but he thought maybe Riley was onto something.

“Just thought you should know,” Riley said, dimples showing as he grinned at him.

“Thanks,” Deacon said.

And when Riley left, going back to his own seat, a few minutes later, he reached for his phone and he sent two texts.

One to Jem, which said. Gonna be okay, I think. Thanks for the pep talk.

And another one to Grant. Tough loss, but we’re gonna be okay. Love you, and see you tonight.

Chapter 18

“Oh, Deacon, I’m so glad I caught you,” Darcy said as he turned around, hearing the rapid fire sound of heels against the pavement as he walked to his truck after practice a few days after the Ravens loss.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Deacon asked.

Practice had been better the last two days. There hadn’t been any other new explosive rumors, at least, and the team seemed to be working through their adversity. Coach K had taken them back to basics, and it was helping to focus on doing things they already knew how to do—but doing them even better.

“Grant forgot this,” she said, gesturing with a small tablet in her hand. “And he’ll want it, tonight. I was going to courier it over, but if you’re going to his place . . .” Darcy trailed off, a knowing look in her eye.

Okay, everyone knew how they were spending their evenings lately—even though Grant had installed a bunch more security around his building and the blurry photographs had at least gone down—and who they were spending them with. That shouldn’t come as a big surprise.

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