Page 105 of My Secret Bandit

Brick by heavy brick.

It wasn’t what I wanted, what I intended to happen after I said I’d be by his side.

In the driveway, I threw the car in park and jumped out. I took a much-needed breath of air not contaminated by despair. I grabbed his crutches and helped him from the car. When I turned toward the front door, he tugged on the back of my shirt to stop me.

“It’s not your fault, Jameson. You weren’t on the field. You weren’t the one who fucked up my knee. And you weren’t the one who wrote the article that started all this bullshit. You know that!”

He paused, reeling in the control that teetered close to the edge.

“If I had to relive that game, I wouldn’t do anything differently. If I hadn’t pushed that guy, maybe he wouldn’t have taken the hit. But if I had to choose between letting him say shit about you and throwing him on his ass, he’s on the ground every time. I promise you that. Ejection, injury, suspension. I don’t care! I’d risk anything for you.”

Have you ever looked someone in the eye and had your fears stare back at you? No? Well, I have and it’s pretty fucking painful.

He could say it wasn’t my fault a thousand times, and yet that look of defeat in his eyes told me he wasn’t even sure if he believed his words.

That sent me into a tailspin of thoughts and emotions.

We walked back into the house without a word.

I needed to spend the night alone. I needed time to pull myself out of the funk I felt coming over me. While I understood I wasn’t personally responsible for Mateo’s injury, my presence in his life made him a target and that was hard to swallow.

Without even hearing specifics, I knew the things those men said to him, things closely related to what brought us together in the first place.

Me: How is he?

Xander: He’s upset. He wants you to come back. Apparently, I’m not a good cuddler.

Me: Sorry.

I settled onto the couch I hadn’t seen in weeks and stared as the TV played something I paid no attention to.

*text notification*

Mateo: Jameson, please come home.

Me: I’ll be there in the morning.

I turned my phone off and forced myself to focus on anything other than Mateo or the overwhelming disgust that consumed me for leaving him until morning came.

“He’s in the gym,” Xander said when I walked in.

“Okay. Have a good day.”

“Hey. Fair warning, he’s extra touchy today.” Xander smiled as he slipped out of the door.

I took a deep breath and prepared myself for a day with Mateo the Grouch.

What I wasn’t prepared to see was Mateo standing. Without his crutches. Doing fucking tricep extensions with dumbbells bigger than my head.

Like a blur, I moved to rip the weights from him.

“What are you doing!?” I asked in a panic.

“Oh. Look who decided to come home,” he said without answering me, his eyes scanning over my face without really seeing me… like he was looking through me.

“Do you not remember the words ‘keep it light’ or how about ‘stay on the crutches’?” I asked, my voice getting louder as I heaved the weights a few feet away, out of reach.

“You’re not my trainer or my doctor. You know that, right?”

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