Down By Contact (Wilmington Breakers Book 1) Read online

“Want to? Hell no.” Well, at least he was being honest with me. “But it needs to happen. If we talk now, then it’s over and done with. You can go back to following me around like a stalker and I can hopefully keep my place on the team this year.”

  “You really think you’re on the bubble?” I’d seen Zach’s stats. When they’d looked like gibberish, I’d sucked it up and asked one of my cousins to help me understand what all the numbers and acronyms meant. He didn’t know whose stats I was studying, but he was impressed. If Zach didn’t trust that his starting spot was safe, he obviously didn’t realize how talented he was.

  “Right now? No.” That was good to hear, because I couldn’t see the team showcasing a player they weren’t planning to keep around. “But there are no guarantees up here. I have to bust my ass out there every day to make sure I keep my spot. Every dropped ball, every missed play, it’ll all go against me. I wouldn’t be the first guy to let off-field stress escort him right out of the career he’d focused on his entire life. I can’t do anything about camp right now, but I figure you and I can get things straight between us—that way there’s one less thing on my mind when I report.”

  That made sense. But how did you start having this conversation with someone you weren’t going to be able to walk away from when it was all over? I didn’t have a ton of experience with relationships, but the ones I’d had after Zach, when we split up, that was it. There was no rehashing where shit went wrong. If we saw one another after that, we’d be civil, but I wasn’t friends with any of my exes. I didn’t see the point in trying to stay a part of their lives when we’d both moved on.

  Before Zach could lay into me for being a complete dick about how I left him, or what a coward I was to send my parents up to clear out my apartment because I knew he’d still be there, I decided to take control of the conversation. I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the chair. My fingers twitched, desperate to reach out and touch him, but I figured that was still a line I couldn’t cross.

  “Zach, I’m sorry if you thought I left because I didn’t want to be with you. That’s the furthest thing from what was going through my mind. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you, it was that I couldn’t keep going the way I was. Every pass you caught, every touchdown you scored, I felt you slipping further away from me. When we started dating, I was cool with keeping everything casual, but then you had to be sweet and considerate, and I fell in love with you. That’s when I started trying to convince myself it was just a few years, and we’d be able to live our lives without lies once we graduated. Once I realized you weren’t going to stop playing football when college ended, I tried picturing what life would be like for me.

  “I couldn’t ask you to come out for me, but I also couldn’t stay hidden away. It killed me whenever someone you knew came up and you stepped to the side, putting a little more space between us,” I admitted. I hadn’t told him any of this when I’d broken up with him. It’d been easier to run away than admit how I was feeling. Now was my chance to correct that mistake. “I knew why you weren’t out. I didn’t like it and there were times I thought you were exaggerating how bad it’d be for your career if you were out. Given the way things went for the one player who did try to be truthful about who he was, I see now that you were justified.”

  “That doesn’t mean it was okay for me to ask you to move back into the closet with me,” Zach argued.

  “No, it wasn’t, but this is my time to talk, so stop interrupting me.” Zach chuckled as he made a sweeping motion for me to continue. “There’s really not much more I wanted to say, but I wanted to make sure that, before you shred me, you knew why I did what I did. If I could go back in time, I’d like to think I’d do things differently, but I really don’t know. The longer I hid how I felt about you, the more stifled I felt. It was like I was putting your dreams and aspirations in front of my own, and eventually I was forced to make a decision. As much as I wish things had ended differently between us, I can’t say I regret anything that’s happened. Like you said about Nate, everything happens for a reason, and neither of us would be here right now if everything before had happened differently.”

  “You don’t know that,” Zach argued, sliding back into the anger he’d shown glimpses of earlier. “This is why I was so pissed off at you. I get why you left. I didn’t like that you did it, but it was the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to agree that the relationship we had wasn’t healthy. You didn’t think to talk to me before you made your decision, to see if I might want to meet you halfway. And when you walked out the door, it was like you were shitting on everything we’d shared. It felt like you’d lied to me every time you told me you loved me.”

  “Never.” This time, I did reach out to him. I rested my hand over his forearm, expecting him to jerk away from me. Instead, he stared down at that simple connection between us. “I loved you with everything I had. I would’ve done anything for you. But toward the end, I felt like I was losing myself to you. I didn’t know who I was as a person or what I wanted out of my life, because I was so damn focused on making yours easier.”

  “And I was so wrapped up in what I wanted out of life that I didn’t think about what I was doing to you.” My stomach flipped when Zach shifted so his hand was over mine. “I guess both of us fucked up pretty royally, huh?”

  “I think that’s to be expected,” I said, not wanting him to try to take on my part of the blame. And he would, because that’s who Zach was. “We were young. Neither of us knew how to have a healthy relationship. That doesn’t mean we can’t look back, admit we screwed up, and figure out how to move forward.”

  In my little dream world, I’d imagined Zach would agree with me, so it cut like a knife when he flinched away from me, lurching out of his seat and going to stand against the railing. I checked the time, wondering how in the hell I was supposed to get to my hotel, wherever that happened to be. I hadn’t bothered to confirm that little detail, because I’d been so caught up in figuring out how to clear the air with Zach so we could work together without killing one another. Or more like without him killing me.

  “We aren’t moving forward, Griffin,” Zach insisted. “We’ll get through training camp, and maybe we’ll even come out the other side as friends, but there’s no moving forward for us. Just because I’m out doesn’t mean I’m looking for a relationship. And I know it makes me a dick, but even if I was, I don’t think I can go back there with you. There’s way too much water under that bridge.”

  “I get it,” I responded solemnly, unsurprised by his insistence that we’d never rekindle what we used to have. That didn’t make the pain lessen. I slung my camera bag over my shoulder and headed inside. I needed to call Giles, or maybe Liam since he wouldn’t tell me what an unprepared idiot I was to not even know where I was staying. Staying here wasn’t an option, because I couldn’t look at Zach right now without feeling queasy. “Okay, well I’ve got what I need for tonight. I’m going to head back to the hotel.”

  “Do you want a ride?” Zach offered. The stupid part of me wanted to grasp his generosity for all it was worth just to have a few more minutes with him. But logic stepped in and I knew I had to refuse. I wasn’t here to invade his life, and I was sure there were plenty of things he’d rather be doing.

  I packed up my gear and made my way to the front door. “Thanks, but it’s a good night for a walk. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Zach stood at the front door, watching as I hefted the bag over my shoulder and descended the front steps. I didn’t look back to see if he was still watching me, but I didn’t need any confirmation that he’d be there. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. God grant me peace, it’s going to be one helluva ride.

  Six

  (Zach)

  I should’ve felt better after shutting Griffin down on the idea of us moving forward now that we’d talked about what happened back in college. Should’ve been able to push him to the back of my mind so I could focus on what
really mattered. But I couldn’t. I’d barely slept after he left, my mind racing with everything he’d said. When the sun started to peek over the horizon, I threw off the sheets on my new bed, grabbed the first pair of shorts I could reach, laced up my shoes, and headed out for a run.

  This was why I’d fallen in love with my house. The sound of prairie grasses rustling in the warm breeze and waves rolling toward the shore, the salty tang in the air. Before the tourists descended to set up their towels and chairs along every possible inch of the shore, there was a peace I’d never felt inland.

  Despite my better judgment, I turned in the opposite direction of my normal route and took off at a leisurely jog until my muscles warmed up. I’d carefully avoided this end of the beach, knowing the memories would flood back the closer I got to our favorite spot. But this morning, I felt ready to face the past. We’d made peace with one another last night, and my chest didn’t feel heavy the way it used to. Progress. One day at a time and all that happy horse shit.

  My gait faltered when I saw a silhouetted figure sitting in the sand at the furthest point on the beach. It could be anyone, but somehow, I knew it wasn’t. As if he felt my gaze on him, the figure turned his head in my direction before his shoulders sagged. No matter how much I tried to move my feet, it felt as though they were buried in the sand. He pushed up from the ground and turned to leave.

  If I hadn’t been such a fucking coward, I’d have sprinted after him, called for Griffin to wait for me. But it was easier this way, better for me to give him space. Give myself space too, to figure out why I didn’t hate him as much I thought I had. I turned back toward the house, no longer in the mood to run. Damn him for ruining one of the few things I did to turn off my brain.

  Two hours later, I was still second-guessing my decision to let Griffin walk away this morning. It was for the best, or so I told myself, if I stuck by my original insistence that we not explore anything beyond a professional relationship. It might’ve worked for my brother’s boyfriend to stay friends with someone he’d been intimate with, but I couldn’t do that. Not with someone who was more than a friend I sometimes blew a load with.

  Standing in front of the stove, I stirred a pan of eggs I had no desire to eat. I had to, of course, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to choke them down. If they managed to get past the lump that’d been stuck in my throat since Griffin refused to let me drive him to the hotel last night, I wasn’t sure they’d survive my churning stomach. I felt dizzy, but that was just as likely to be the whirlwind of thoughts spinning around in my head as it was the result of abusing my body in the home gym after my failed run.

  This was why it was so dangerous to be around Griffin. He screwed with my mind like no one else could. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I laid eyes upon the older, edgier version of my first love, and he was already attacking my defenses like a wrecking ball. There was no way I could keep him at a distance for the next two months and stay focused on training camp.

  Griffin, with the burden of the past, was too much of an emotional weight for me to bear. Approaching the producers and asking them to assign a different camera operator to me was likely to wind up with Griffin being fired, so that wasn’t an option. Even if we hadn’t talked a bit last night, I wouldn’t do something to screw him that way. And I believed him when he said he would do everything in his power to protect me from being exploited on the show. Even before his apology, I had no doubt of it because that was the type of guy he’d always been. Hell, he’d kept my secrets the entire time we were together and hadn’t sold my private memories like so many exes might be tempted to do. That meant the only solution was to find a way to get along with him without falling in love with him all over again.

  And speak of the devil, my doorbell rang, causing me to jump while stirring the eggs. I debated whether to clean up the mess first or let Griffin in. He’d no doubt give me shit for leaving food on the floor, but I didn’t want him thinking I wasn’t here or that I wasn’t going to let him in. I set the spatula on the counter and stepped over the breakfast I’d ruined, and checked myself in the mirror before swinging the door open.

  “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you so early,” I said, ushering him inside. My hands twitched with the urge to reach out and touch him. Would he let me? Would I be able to stop with just one brush against his arm? Those were questions which needed to remain unanswered as long as we were working togeth— No. There was no time when it’d be appropriate for me to explore those particular questions. Griffin was part of my past for a reason.

  “I saw you this morning on the beach,” he admitted. Our arms brushed as he passed me and the glint in his eye made me wonder if it’d been intentional. He stopped, sniffing the air and then racing toward the kitchen. Shit!

  “Zach, you could’ve burned down the house,” Griffin scolded me as he dumped the scorched eggs into the sink. His foot slipped on the eggs I’d left on the floor and he nearly fell on his ass. If this was an omen for how the day was going to go, I couldn’t wait to see what else happened. “Jesus, maybe you need to stick to takeout and microwave meals.”

  I stood there, dumbfounded, watching as Griffin made quick work of cleaning up my mess. With no evidence left of my inability to perform basic household tasks, Griffin shifted into cooking mode. The haze that’d descended over me lifted about the time he finished chopping some peppers and an onion. As much as I appreciated him rushing in to save me, watching him move around my kitchen felt domestic. I could guarandamntee deShawn’s cameraman wasn’t cooking for his family right now. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “True, but you just moved in and it’d be a shame for you to burn the place to the ground so soon after closing,” Griffin quipped. Asshole. “Besides, you know I like cooking, and it’s been a long damn time since I’ve had a kitchen this nice at my disposal.” He paused, considering something for a moment. “Actually, strike that. I’ve never cooked in a top of the line kitchen. Man, can you imagine how geeked out my mom would be if she could see this setup? It’s really a shame for someone so inept at cooking to have appliances most people would kill for.”

  I shrugged, because the kitchen honestly hadn’t been a consideration when I moved in. It was all about the bedroom, gym, and location. Okay, mostly the in-home gym and the location.

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind,” I said, already backing out of what I had no doubt Griffin was going to claim as his domain within my home. And wasn’t that fucked up? My ex-boyfriend not only being in my home, but me allowing him to tell me to leave him be. “I’m going to take my laptop out to the deck and check my email and shit.”

  Griffin let out a harrumph, no doubt biting back a retort about how I was probably getting online to play stupid games. I might’ve had a slightly unhealthy addiction to them, but that was because I was a fan of anything that forced me to stop thinking for a while. Right now, I needed to do something to keep from calling Nate and asking him to tell me what an idiot I was to even consider friendship with Griffin. I knew what he’d say, and as much as I needed to hear it, I didn’t want to. Whatever decision I made, it had to be my decision, not influenced by my brother’s dislike of Griffin. Hell, he’d probably tell me to call the producers and stop worrying about what would happen to Griffin, since he obviously hadn’t given me that same consideration when he dumped me.

  I still wasn’t hungry when Griffin appeared a few minutes later with a plate worthy of one of the nicer hotels the Breakers put us up in during the year. With a smile, I took the plate from him and went back to putzing around on my computer. Griffin stood awkwardly, as though he was trying to figure out what he should be doing. I considered offering him a seat and some conversation, but again, that was treading into dangerous territory.

  I groaned when he disappeared and I heard the soft thunk of his camera bag being set on the table behind me. “You’re really going to follow me around all day with that thing?”

  “It is the entire reason I’m here,” he re
minded me. Other than the momentary lapse when he made me breakfast, Griffin seemed firmly in business mode today. “They likely won’t use much, but I do need some footage to turn in.”

  “Sorry if I’m making your life more difficult,” I apologized. Whether I meant my boring life or the boundaries we had to maintain between us, I wasn’t sure. If I was struggling so much with the past and I was the one who’d insisted we not speak about it again, I could only imagine how things were eating away at Griffin. “If it’ll help, I’ll try to figure out something fun to do later today.”

  “Gee, you make it sound like torture,” Griffin chided, still messing around with his camera. It was strange to eat for the sole purpose of him recording me doing something that’d make me seem every bit the Average Joe, but I figured I might as well get used to it now. God only knew there’d be more staged moments over the next couple of months. “It’s not like anyone’s expecting you to throw a wild party or anything. Isn’t Nate’s boyfriend back on the field today? Maybe we could find a bar and you could watch the game. Hang out with the locals a bit. That type of thing.”

  “Yeah, because that won’t draw any attention at all,” I scoffed. “Not only will I have to deal with tourists recognizing me, but you standing behind me with that camera will attract people who have no clue who I am but figure I must be important if I travel with my one-man film crew.”

  “Hey, it’s a suggestion,” he responded. “Besides, seeing that you’re not afraid to hang with the unwashed masses will show the world you’re still the same down-to-earth guy you always were.”

  Before I could think of a witty comeback, Griffin lifted the camera to his shoulder and started filming. Guess that was the end of our conversation. More than once, I had to stop myself from turning around to tell Griff he felt like a stalker. It was weird as fuck being followed from one room to the next of my own home. If I was smart, I’d have taken the time to unpack my boxes, but it felt pointless. I had almost no furniture, no clue when I was going to get more than the bare essentials. Unpacking would only highlight how unmotivated I was to do anything beyond buy a bed. At least this way, if people stopped over I could apologize and tell them I was still trying to get settled. That should work at least through training camp.