Even though he’d spent the last three weeks during the contract negotiation trying to mentally prepare himself for how his life was going to be changing, it turned out that no amount of shopping malls and busy restaurants could’ve prepared him for having dozens of members of the press asking him questions.
The press conference had been organized chaos.
Then he’d had lunch with the university president and then dinner with Sidney Swift. Zach had been there, too, of course, but he’d been quiet.
Or maybe it was just that everyone else felt so freaking loud.
Gavin scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to close his eyes again and fall asleep.
But he couldn’t.
Maybe it was the sound of a city still buzzing around him even though it was nearly midnight. Or maybe it was the sliver of streetlight peeking through the curtains.
If she was here, Noelle would’ve told him he was being very stupid and lying to himself.
Of course, if she was here,hewouldn’t be here, in Portland. He’d still be in Seattle, probably, coaching the Sea Monsters.
Would he be happy? Gavin thought so. He’d been happy before. Distracted, though, and taking everything that was actually important in his life for granted. But they’d had a good life together, until it had been cut way too short. An infection, raging out of control. And then a week later, she’d been gone. No time to prepare. Barely even time to say goodbye.
Gavin opened his eyes again. Stared at the wedge of light. He’d need to get better blackout curtains, for sure.
He rolled over, grabbing his phone from its charger on the nightstand.
To look for new blackout curtains, he told himself, but that wasn’t the app he switched to.
Gavin’s fingers hesitated over the screen for a long moment. He’d never actually texted Zach before.
During the three weeks of contract negotiations it had been inappropriate, and Gavin hadn’t wanted to put him in a difficult position. And after, Gavin had flown into Portland, and there’d never been a need because if he needed to talk to Zach, he was right there.
His new assistant coach.
God, he was coaching again, and he was coaching again withZach.
More than once, he’d thought,What the fuck are you thinking?Followed immediately by,You’re thinking straight for the first goddamn time in years.
Followed by,Maybe you’re not thinking ‘straight’ at all.
And wasn’t that the problem?
Zach was so big and quiet andthere.
Gavin had been much more sure he could dismiss that moment on the couch. It was just a moment. Less than five minutes. Nothing had happened. It should be easy to re-align his thinking back to Zach as being under his protection.
But Zach didn’t need his protection.
He’d grown up and Gavin was struggling more than he expected when it came to stuffing him back into that box.
Maybe if you say it enough times.
But he’d said it today, repeated ittwice, straight to Zach’s face, who’d barely batted an eye, and that hadn’t changed anything.
If anything, it had gotten tougher. He’d gotten caught up at dinner, when he was supposed to be listening to Sidney blow hard about the upcoming season, watching Zach in the dim light of the restaurant.
The nick underneath his chin, from shaving. The thick strength of his neck and the vulnerable skin at the hollow of his throat, once he’d lost the tie he’d been wearing all day. The deepening shadows under his blue eyes.
The way Zach looked at him. The way Zach lingered at the entrance of the restaurant with him, like he hadn’t wanted to say goodbye either.
Gavin had forced himself to walk away, to take the car Sidney had called for him.