Page 51 of Taking Over the Dark

Never say never.

We both sit down in the chairs in front of his desk, and my mind is instantly brought back to the afternoon being in here getting our asses handed to us by Coach because we were fighting like teenagers.

That feels like years ago.

But it’s only been a couple of months.

“Nash, bud, I’m very surprised to see you here, and I’m sorry for your loss.” Coach gets up and moves across his desk to wrap Nash in a hug. People may talk shit on Maverick Whitlock, but he’s a good fucking man. One that I’m proud to call my coach.

Nash responds once Coach lets him go, “Thank you, Coach. We weren’t close and didn’t see eye to eye much, but it still hurts knowing he won’t be able to see me succeed.”

It hits me that you can mourn your parents even when they’re still breathing. What could have been a great relationship with someone who’s meant to love you unconditionally. But a lot of parents don’t need kids and feed into the generational trauma of treating their kids like they were treated.

If I ever do decide to have a kid of my own, I swear I’ll try my hardest not to pass the trauma that has been placed on me.

My eyes snap up at Nash’s following statement.

* If We Being Rëal - Yeat

* Popular Monster - Falling In Reverse

THIRTY-FOUR

NASH

“Zamir and I are dating.”

?*As I snap my head to look at Zamir, his mouth falls open.

I can read his mind, I know exactly what he’s thinking.

What the hell is this fucker thinking?

Is he trying to get us fired?

Don’t we have to sign something with HR before telling everyone we’re a thing?

This is what I had planned the whole time. Come here early, talk with Coach, and head to work out—just another thing on my to-do list.

I didn’t want this lingering over us any longer. Zamir and I dating was bound to come out any day in the media, and the last thing we need is more eyes on us. This has to be some kind of rule, disclosing our relationship status, especially since we’re technically co-workers.

Ohhh, the drama. Workplace romance.

Coach informs us, “When Zamir called and said he was with you going to see your father, I figured that much. Just be sure to stop by Brittany’s desk on the way out of here and fill out one of those forms we have to have.”

We have to have?

Weird wording… he almost speaks like he has one of these on file.

I’ll have to keep that in the back of my mind and do some further investigating.

We say our goodbyes for now and head to the weight room. This is our last practice before the long weekend because of our bye week—it couldn’t have come at a better time. I plan to go hard in the gym and later on when we get on the field. I need to release these emotions I’ve been stuffing down.

Before I realize it, I’m finished with my brutal back day, and we’re heading over to the field to start practice. Zamir is right beside me, and Rhett isn’t too far behind us. Trying not to look too suspicious.

I could ask one of the athletic trainers if they’d give me one of their polos so Rhett could blend in a little better. He’s sticking out like a sore thumb at the moment.

He takes his seat on the sidelines, watching with rapt attention. He’s not even looking for threats. He’s enjoying this moment, being in the practice facility and living out his childhood dream. Honestly, that was me not too long ago at the first practice I got to be a part of. It felt unreal being around so many people I’ve looked up to my whole life.

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