Page 46 of Off Season

He presses me against him and whispers, “I’m fucking proud of you, too.”

Chapter Fifteen

Ethan

I run my fingers through Jacob’s soft hair, listening to his quiet breaths as he sleeps, his head resting on my chest. After his heartbreaking confession, we laid down on the couch, where I just held him while he quietly sobbed into my neck.

And I’ve never felt so helpless.

My heart shattered at the whole heap of emotions swirling in those beautiful eyes. The pain, the heartache Jacob harbors are so visceral, it feels like a heavy weight on my chest.

He’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for nearly two decades. Putting everyone else first and not allowing himself time to grieve properly.

Just burying his head in the sandbox of denial and hiding his pain behind a sunny exterior, hoping the darkcloud won’t show until he’s alone, so he can drown in private.

I can’t begin to imagine how he felt when he was burdened with debt, too. That alone would be enough to break some people, let alone with a mountain of grief on top.

I want to be a safe haven for him. A landing pad for when the grief becomes too strong to hide. I want to be his life raft. I want to be the one to show him he doesn’t have to wade through the treacherous storm on his own. I’ll hold him until he finds a man worthy of his all-encompassing love…and then I’ll silently hate the fact that it’s not me.

He deserves so much more than what I can give him, and I’m not selfish enough to ask him to wait for me.

You were hard to love.

Even after what Jacob said, Ian’s words keep coming back to haunt me. They shouldn’t phase me, not now that I finally have closure, but it still cuts deep, bringing back the fear I’ve hidden since I was a kid—that I’m unlovable, and that’s why my dad left.

My phone begins to ping in quick succession where it’s resting on the arm of the couch. I grimace, putting it on silent, and look down at Jacob. Thankfully, he doesn’t stir. All the emotions pouring out must’ve really drained him.

The screen begins to fill with text bubbles from the group chat I’m in with some of the guys, and my stomach twists with guilt. These guys have tried so hard over the years to be a more prominent part of my life. They’ve shown me nothing but love and support, and the way I’ve repaid them is by keeping them at arm’s length.

Fuck. How they haven’t given up on me yet is a mystery.

Opening the group chat, I roll my lips to suppress my laughter.

Elliot: Who do you think would win in a fight? Han Solo or Indiana Jones?

Blaine: What kind of question is this?

Elliot: A valid one. *eye roll emoji*

Peyton: How can they fight when they are played by the same person?

Elliot: I’m asking hypothetically. I don’t mean REALLY fight because it just wouldn’t happen. Duh, Jonathan!

Zach: Han Solo would win, hands down.

Elliot: But why, Zachary?

Zach: How could he not? He’s the best.

Peyton: But Indiana Jones has the strength. Han would try to charm his way out of the fight after a while. He’d probably shoot first, because that’s what he does, but Indy would find some cover and wait until Han got all cocky thinking he’d won, then Indy would pull out the whip or throw a punch.

Zach: Nope. Not having it.

Zach: Han is a scoundrel, man. He would win the fight easily.

Peyton: I don’t know, dude. I think he’d give up. Plus, I’m pretty sure Indy has been in more fights than Han.

Mitch: I have no idea who you’re talking about.

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