Page 80 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

I should’ve told her I loved her as soon as I realized I did. If nothing else, maybe knowing that would have given her reason to doubt Chase’s version of things.

“Colt, regardless of what happened with Sam, we set out to show people there’s more to you than football, and we succeeded. That’s a positive development for the next step in your career.”

“I don’t care about the next step in my career. I’m having trouble focusing on the career I currently have,” I mutter.

“You’re one game away from the Super Bowl. The Colt I know wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that.”

“The Colt you know, thought his career was the key to his happiness. Now I know better.”

“You don’t love football?” He clears his throat, probably trying to swallow his surprise.

“Football will always be part of my happiness. I’m scared of the day I can’t play anymore because it’s been the most important thing in my life for so long. Now I know other things are just as important. Maybe even more important. I was trying to get better at balancing those things but…” I trail off.

“But what?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. Sam doesn’t want anything to do with me, and Sawyer, well, if I’m not with Sam, Sawyer will probably think I wasn’t serious about her. That Sam was no different from the others.”

“What are you saying?” Chase asks hesitantly.

“I s’pose I’m saying I’m back to football being the most important thing in my life. I don’t have anything else.” A few months ago, that wouldn’t have bothered me. I would’ve preferred it, during the season anyway. That makes me feel sort of hollow now. Empty.

My life today is no different than it has been for the past ten years, only now I can see that for what it is. A charade. A sham. Something I created to avoid seeing the truth. That I was alone.

Sure, I had the career, the money, the women. Take that away and what’s left? Just me. My singular focus on football pushed everyone away, to the point that I had to find someone new to keep me company every year. Someone I hadn’t already discarded for the game.

I used to tell myself I wasn’t the bad guy since I never forced anyone to leave, but not caring when they did is just as bad. Yet I gave myself a pat on the back for that, as if being indifferent was better than being cruel. It’s no wonder Sam doesn’t want anything to do with me.

“Is that bad?” Chase’s question brings me back to the present. “I mean, having something to focus on right now is probably a good thing, right?”

Normally, I’d say revisiting old habits is like taking a step backward, but in this instance, he might be onto something. Focusing on the game is a way to avoid the hopelessness I feel, and while I doubt a win would make up for losing Sam, I owe it to my teammates and the city not to let my broken heart get in the way of their dreams.

“Probably.” I rub my hand over my face, unable to muster the enthusiasm that used to come so easily when thinking about the game.

***

“Dude, are you sleeping here?” Shane asks when he finds me seated in front of my locker. “Your car’s been parked in the same spot for days.”

“I like that spot. If it’s empty when I get here, I’m taking it.” The spot closest to the door is still a good fifty yards away from the building, so it doesn’t spare me much of a walk to my car, but after a long practice the shorter distance is nice. That makes it the most sought-after spot among the players.

“What time are you getting here exactly? Dante had a meeting with the trainer at seven a.m. yesterday and you were already here, even though practice didn’t start til ten.”

“Some of the guys wanted to go over film.” I shrug, reaching for a cleat so I can check the laces.

“And you were still here when I left last night.”

“The rookies were having some pre-game jitters. We talked about what to expect next week.” It doesn’t matter how many games you play in, the Super Bowl is different, especially if it’s your first year in the league.

“Hold up.” Shane drops his bag on the bench and faces me with his arms crossed. “Not long ago you were bitching about me and Dante needing to pull our weight after hours so you could spend time with Sam, so why am I finding out about these extra sessions just now?”

“You weren’t around when it came up and I was available.” I pick up the other cleat and inspect it.

“Were you available for the same reason Elliot isn’t getting cooking lessons with Sam?”

“What?” I frown, looking at him for the first time since he walked in.

“The two of them wanted your chef to teach them some basic cooking skills. Elliot was pretty excited about it and then, nothing.”

I don’t have any response, so I stay focused on my shoes.

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