Page 79 of Saving the Halfback

Ethan didn’t talk much the next morning, but it was a comfortable quiet. He helped me with chores again, or rather, he made me sit on a bucket while he did everything.

“Do you still do those competitions?” he asked as he went down, cleaning out the stalls.

“The rodeos? No, I haven’t in a year or so.” Or more.

When he came out of the stall, he had a frown on his face. “Why?”

The thought of Ed’s body pressed against me as he “taught” me how to ride, how to be a better competitor, made my stomach queasy. “I can help you with that.”

“Tell me first—why don’t you ride anymore?”

“Someone ruined it for me.” He seemed surprised I said anything at all. Maybe it was him that was breaking down walls, not me.

On our way out, he stopped and asked my dad if he could help him with anything before we left, and I think Dad liked that. While we ate pancakes, eggs, and bacon, Mom was telling Ethan he could stay for as long as he liked. Ethan thanked her, but I could tell he wouldn’t take her up on the offer.

I wore a black shirt under my jersey and a pair of jeans. Ethan had his jersey at school, though that didn’t stop my mom from trying to sneak a few pictures of us on our first game day, followed by promises of being in the stands. It was a home game, so Coach had said there would be pizza after school, followed by a light practice before the game. No early morning practice today.

Ethan beat me to the driver’s side and held out his hand. “I’ll drive.”

I shrugged and handed him the keys before getting in. We headed to town to pick up Nolan and Lachlan.

“Your parents seem happy you’re on the team.”

“That, or they’re happy I am hanging out with a friend. I think they thought I was a loner.” Which wasn’t wrong; I’d been one.

Ethan grunted. “I didn’t know.”

“That I was alone?” I thought about it. “I didn’t want anyone to know.” It was easier to keep separated and isolated. “Can I ask you something?”

He gave a short nod.

“What happened between you and Chase? Why the hostility?”

Slowly, Ethan shook his head, his brows dipping. “Why don’t you ask him?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m asking you.”

“He’s a greedy snake. He chose his father over…just never mind.” He pulled into Lachlan’s driveway and tapped the horn. Lachlan came walking out, holding on to his pants, as if he’d just pulled them up, backpack hanging off his arm, cup of coffee in the other hand as he attempted to close the door behind him. He looked hot as hell in his jersey, but he was an absolute mess. Ethan scoffed. “You can tell he hasn’t smoked in a few hours.”

“Hey, lay off. It’s his outlet, and we all have our vices.”

“I don’t,” he grumbled.

“Maybe you should get one, then you would be less moody,” I teased him.

Lachlan got into the back of the truck, fumbling with his bag. He pulled the cupholder out and stuck his coffee in it.

“Morning, Lach!” I said cheerfully.

He blinked a couple times, eyed me, and then suspiciously said, “Morning.” His eyes swung to Ethan. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”

I winced. Ethan now sported a black eye, a split lip that was luckily no longer swollen, and a cut on his cheek. “Fight.”

Lachlan nodded, as if that answer made total sense. And why wouldn’t it? Ethan had a reputation of getting into fights, only now, I felt like maybe he’d never been in any fights. What if all the bruises and cuts were put there by his father, and he only let everyone believe he got into fights?

I pulled out the Tupperware container from my bag as Ethan drove on to pick up Nolan. “My mom sent you something.” I handed the container back, and Lachlan slowly took it.

No enthusiasm, no excitement. He set it on his lap and opened the lid, taking a breath in before sighing. “I’ll save it for later.” He lay his head back on the headrest.

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