Page 124 of Winning Brynn

She pales. “I didn’t know.”

I’m sure to clear my voice of admonishment when I say, “Well, that’s okay, we can just do it—” My words die on my tongue when I look at Salem’s face for the first time since rejoining them after my call.

I should have noticed when her babbling stopped a few seconds ago. Should have looked at her sooner, should have never left her alone with Issy in the first place. Not after her admission. Not when she was so distracted.

“Brynn!” Issy grabs me, her long fingernails puncturing the fabric of my shirt and piercing the skin of my shoulder.

But I don’t even notice the pain.

Because Salem’s eyes, that usually shine brighter than the surface of the ocean, are wild with panic. Her body is rigid, her hands flailing at her sides. And her skin…

It’s turning blue.

"Daddy Sully and the bros" group chat

Alex:I have a very serious question to ask you, Sully.

Leo:Why do I get the feeling you’re about to piss me off?

Roman:Probably because he is.

Alex:Are you suffering from amnesia?

Leo:Excuse me?

Alex:Well, it appears you have lost the ability to kick a ball.

Roman:Jesus, Wolfe.

Alex:What? It’s true. He’s been playing like shit recently, and you know it. We were literally talking about this, like, ten minutes ago.

Roman:Way to throw me under the bus, man.

Leo:Got a lot on my mind, that’s all.

Alex:Well, you better sort your shit out, dude. Coach Carter is talking about benching you if this goes on much longer.

Roman:For someone so sociable, you have terrible people skills.

Leo has left the group chat

Roman:For fuck’s sake, Alex.

Alex:Was it something I said?

Chapter Thirty-nine

Leo

The weather is asfoul as my mood as I pull my car into the garage of my apartment complex and ride the elevator up to my floor. We’re flying out to Philadelphia in a few days for a game that would be a challenge to win even if I was in top form. The way I’m playing now, we may as well concede the game before the ref even blows the first whistle.

And it’s not that I’m conceited enough to think that the team’s success rests single-handedly on my shoulders. It’s just that I’m playing so shitty that I’m sabotaging opportunities for the other players. Fumbling balls, missing goal opportunities, failing to pass when I should… I’m playing like a toddler who’s just learned to walk instead of the world-class striker I’m supposed to be.

The worst part is, I know what I need to do to make it better.

But that would entail finally coming clean to Alex. And even though the guilt is rotting me from the inside out, the words constantly one slip away from spilling out to him, I can’t seem to find the courage to actually do it. Even knowing that the longer we keep our secret, the worse he’ll react when we tell him. The betrayal will hit him that much deeper, destroying any chance I might have had at salvaging our friendship once and for all, yet still, I don’t tell him.

But the truth is, whether he finds out today, or a year from now, I’ll lose him regardless. I know it. I’m just not ready to let my best friend go.

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