Page 64 of Defensive Zone

“Hell no. I agree, last season was a disappointment, but Carter Lockwood is the strength and power of their defensive line. Without him, they will flop harder than they did last season. I think they would be foolish to trade him over one fluke season,” one of the presenters replies.

“But it’s a business. He’s one of the highest-paid non-quarterback players in the NFL. He definitely did not earn his eight million dollar salary this year,” another argues. “Why should they keep him?”

My cheeks burn as shame lodges thick in my throat. I’ve managed to avoid most media opinions, only going on socialmedia to look at my private Instagram, where I don’t follow any of the sports pages. I didn’t want to see other people agreeing to what I’ve been thinking or confirming that I don’t deserve my spot on the team—or my salary. But I didn’t think they would talk about it on the TV segments, given it’s the off-season and all.

“What the fuck?” Zach growls, picking up the TV remote and changing the channel.

My voice is quiet when I say, “Well, they’re not wrong.”

His face is pinched in frustration when he turns to face me. “The fuck, Carter? Of course they’re wrong. They don’t know shit.”

I grunt, flopping back into the cushions and covering my face with my arms.

“Carter.” He tugs at my hand, trying to get me to uncover my face.

I move my arm slightly so I can look at him with one eye.

“I suppose it’s time we talk about what’s going to happen when you need to go back for training camp.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I sigh. “I told Hayden that I won’t be resigning with Denver or going anywhere except Chicago.”

Zach’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” I nod and sit back up. “I don’t want to think about it happening again.”

He opens his mouth, but I hold my hand up, silencing him.

“Not the shit with us. I mean, if something happens to you and I’m not here to take care of you. You ending up in the hospital was a real wake-up call for me in a lot of ways. It made me realize how much we’re both risking when we step out onto the ice or the field. Sure, I’ve had teammates who have been injured, but fuck, Zach, I’m just as likely to get a concussion as you are.”

Understanding seems to dawn on him.

“It would drive me crazy not being able to be with you if that happened,” he says quietly.

“Exactly. So, while football is here—” I hold my hand out, indicating a level, then put my other one a lot higher. “—you’re here on my list of priorities, and if that means Denver lets me go and I don’t get signed by Chicago for the next season, I’m okay with that. I love playing football, and I’ve had some great years, but my heart is here with you. I’ve accepted that if I need to retire earlier than I’d originally planned to be with you, then I’ll do that.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, eyeing me. A beat goes by, then another. When he finally speaks again, his voice is more determined. “And you’re sure about this?”

I nod vehemently. “Yeah, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, almost like he’s agreeing to something in his brain.

“During those six months you’re in Denver, we need to make sure we talk every day. Video call at every opportunity,” Zach insists.

“And phone sex.” I grin, wiggling my brows. “Allthe phone sex.”

He laughs. “Yeah, there will be a lot of phone sex.”

Pressing a knee on the couch, I lean forward and tackle him until he’s lying beneath me. His hands slip under my sweater, caressing my back. I capture his lips in a kiss, trying to tell him without words that we’re going to be okay. That this new path I’m going to take will be worth it, and the only regret I have is not realizing what we could be sooner.

“Running late, I see.” Blaine smirks, one eyebrow arched as we walk up to the table.

It’s a good thing we planned to meet Blaine and Alex at a steak restaurant that’s just around the corner from our apartment building because we are runningverylate.

One look at Zach in his tight black dress pants and open charcoal shirt, and I immediately dropped to my knees. One thing led to another, and next thing we knew, we were having to tuck our shirts into our pants in the elevator, and I’m pretty sure my mouth is still a little red with stubble burn.

“Leave them alone.” Alex playfully hits Blaine’s chest with the back of his hand. “It’s not like you can talk. If I didn’t threaten to withhold sex from you if we were late, we would still be in the apartment.”

“I would flip you off if we weren’t in a classy establishment,” Zach retorts as we both sit down opposite the other couple. “We’re not that late.”

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