Page 6 of Overtime Goal
Fuck me. If that’s the message I’m sending out, maybe I should stick around and see if I can get in the mood.
I stayed, but the longer we talked, the less I felt like myself. It was like I was playing a role I once knew but had forgotten all the lines. I couldn’t blame nerves or beer, and it definitely wasn’t Liz. She was incredible.
When my bottle was empty, I set it down and looked her in the eye. “You’re amazing, but I need some time to myself.”
She nodded. “Take care of yourself, Aidan. And whoever she is, she’s lucky.”
I didn’t bother with another denial. We kissed each other’s cheeks, and I walked home wondering what the fuck had just happened. Talk about blowing an opportunity.
Who the fuck was I, anyway? This was why I needed to straighten things out with Logan. My mind was on him so much I couldn’t think about women. Liz was hot as fire and had really been into me, but I still hadn’t wanted to go with her. The stuff in LA had messed me up, and I had to find a way to convince Logan to talk about it.
I checked my phone when I got home. Since there were no messages, I opened my thread with Logan and stared at it, wondering if I should say something casual. But fuck that. I set the phone on my nightstand and went to brush my teeth. He’d obviously wanted space, and I had to respect that.
I woke more confused than I’d been the night before. Not even coffee, a plate of eggs, or an hour on the treadmill could fix it. It was time to admit I needed someone else’s advice.
The Warriors were a great group of guys, but most of them were a little nosy. There was one I could trust with secrets, though. Harpy loved to stir the pot as much as anybody, but he was a fantastic captain who knew how to keep things to himself. When I texted to ask if we could talk, he said his husband, Luca, was on the road with his lacrosse team, so I could come over anytime.
They lived in a narrow, brick-front house in Buffalo’s historic district. Inside, it smelled like wood polish and coffee, with tall windows, creaking hardwood floors, and a fireplace that took up most of one wall. Harpy and I sat in comfy chairs beside a window with a view of the neighborhood.
After we bullshitted a while, he got to the point. “You said you need to talk, and I doubt you’re really interested in those plants outside. What’s on your mind?”
My throat went dry. Talking about serious things had never been easy, but if I wanted help deciding what to do, I had to be honest. “I haven’t been myself lately, and I need to figure out why so I can do something about it.”
He leaned back and said, “When I don’t feel like myself, it’s usually because something’s different. Has anything changed with you? Or has something happened?”
“No.”
He widened his eyes and let a moment pass. “Why do you feel different then? You must have some idea.”
My stomach dropped. I’d hoped to avoid talking about LA because I wanted to protect Logan’s privacy. Now, I understood that would be impossible. I had a crazy urge to say I’d forgotten something important and run out the door, but that wouldn’t help me deal with my crazy feelings. Plus, it would probably make Harpy determined to find out what was wrong.
“Somethingmayhave happened.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “It involves someone else you know, so I can’t be too specific, but I overreacted. I… um… I think it hurt him, and now it’s hurting me.”
“Hmm. This person’s on the team, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He shifted in his chair. “Why don’t you talk to him and hash it out? None of our teammates are unreasonable.”
“Ihavetried to talk about it. I tried yesterday, but he shut me down.”
“So try again. You’re not exactly shy, Riley.”
“Well… I’m the reason he won’t talk.” I flopped against the back of my chair because that admission had taken something out of me.
“Can you be any more specific?” Harpy asked. “If you came here looking for advice, I need to have some idea of what happened.”
He was right, goddammit, so I stared at the ceiling because it was easier than looking at him. “After it happened, I overreacted.”
“You said that already.”
“Fuck!” I lowered my head and met Harpy’s eyes. “I told him we could never talk about it again.”
Harpy nodded as a look of understanding crossed his face. “I see.”
“I don’t know if you do. What are you thinking?”
“That whatever’s made you so upset must have been major. We all do things that spook us. Sometimes that’s good because it can open us to something new, maybe something we’ve denied. Was it the first time this happened?”
