Page 24 of Defensive Zone

“You know where I am if you need me.”

We hang up, and I collect my bags from baggage claim and make my way out into arrivals. The sky matches my gray and gloomy mood as I step out of O’Hare and head to the waiting rideshare I requested.

I stayed in Denver for the mandatory debrief meetings and farewell dinners for guys who aren’t staying next season, but after two days, my house began to feel like it was closing in on me, and I hopped on the first flight out this morning.

I haven’t told Zach I’d be flying in today, and for the entire flight, I thought I was going to be sick. I don’t know why I feel so fucking nervous. I’ve never once felt nervous around Zach. We’ve always had this easy, open, and honest relationship, creating this safe space to be vulnerable about our fears and feelings. But as I glance down at my phone and see my texts are still unanswered, I’m wondering if that safe space has been broken.

Something has changed between us. Our bond has been fractured, and we’re standing on separate islands. I can see him, and I can hear him, but I can’t reach him. He’s drifting away from me, and I don’t know what to do to close the gap.

And I really hope he isn’t going to be mad that I’m just turning up unannounced.

My knee bounces as we head toward downtown. My gut twists and turns with anxiety as my mind runs at a hundred miles an hour. Could he have met someone and the reason he’s been distant is because he’s been preoccupied? I mean, maybe? But we’ve always been so open with one another. He wouldn’t hide something like that from me. A wave of jealousy burns my insides, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek until I can taste copper, and I pick at the skin around my nails.

Get yourself together, man.

No, he wouldn’t keep secrets from me.

“I’m sorry about your season,” the driver says, eyeing me in his rearview mirror.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“I hate to say this, as I’m a Chicago fan and all, but you deserve better. I hope you can find a team who gives you that. We would be lucky to have you on our defensive line.”

I want to argue that I don’t deserve better. That I was the reason for our piss-poor excuse of a season, but I don’t. This pity party of one needs to take its departure because it’s done now and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” I manage to force out.

Luckily, he drops it, switching the subject to how snow is expected any minute now. I’m grateful for the brief reprieve for my anxious brain, but it returns like a freight train when he pulls up outside Zach’s apartment building.

“All the best next season.” He smiles as he takes my luggage from the trunk.

“Thanks, man. Have a great day.”

I make a mental note to give him a generous tip once I get inside and make a beeline for the doors just as snow begins tofall. Zach has a game tonight, so hopefully it doesn’t get too heavy.

“Mr. Lockwood, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

My head snaps up to see the doorman, Steve, stepping around the front desk and taking my luggage from me. “Is this a surprise visit for Mr. Reid?”

I clear my throat and offer a shaky smile. “Uh, yeah, it is.”

“Great. Let me get the elevator for you.” He heads to the elevator bank to press the button. Knowing Zach hasn’t removed me from his approved list settles something inside me.

That must mean something, right?

I thank Steve as the elevator doors open, and once I’m inside, I press the button for the sixty-ninth floor. The doors close, and I close my eyes, taking a deep inhale through my nose.

Maybe I’m overthinking this. Maybe it’s just been a wave of shit luck and I’m being overly sensitive because my football season has been so fucked up.

When I reach his apartment door, I raise my hand and rap my knuckles against the wood. Minutes go by with no sign of Zach, so I knock again and try not to let my nerves take over again. This time, I hear the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door before it opens. Zach stands there shirtless, in just a pair of sleep pants and pillow creases on the side of his face.

Fuck, I’ve probably interrupted his pregame nap.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

He shakes his head and yawns, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “It’s fine, I needed to wake up anyway. What… What are you doing here?”

I furrow my brows. “Uh, it’s my off-season, Zach. Where else did you think I would be?”

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