Whatever this is, he needs to get it figured out fast and stop bringing it onto the field with him. “So—”
“Don’t even say it, man.” He falls silent, ripping off the rest of his padding as if it’s choking the life out of him.
“Say what?” I ask, doing the same.
“That I’m off my game.” He gives me a bit of side-eye. “That it’s been off for a few weeks.”
I shrug and backtrack. Coach is already going to rip him a new one, so maybe for the time being, I’ll keep my trap shut and we’ll see what happens. “Wasn’t going to mention it.”
“Good.” His brows pinch together as he shoots an anxious look toward Coach’s office. “For once in his life, Baker is right. I’d better grab some lube. Coach is going to ream my ass.”
I glance at the office.
Nik Taylor is one of the toughest coaches you’ll find in Division I football. He runs his program like a tight ship. If he’s giving one hundred percent to his team, he expects his players to do the same. If you’re not willing to bleed for the guys standing shoulder to shoulder with you on the field, there’s no place for you on this roster. He’s the reason both Colton and I committed to Wesley. Practice may be grueling, but we’re better players for it. Ever since Coach Taylor took over the program, the Warriors have won their conference along with five national championships. I’m looking to keep the momentum going, not shit the bed during my farewell season.
“Please,” I snort, wanting to put him at ease, “Baker is a bonehead. Don’t listen to a word he says.”
Colton shrugs as concern flickers in his eyes. He’s never been one to expose his true feelings. This is the first time I’ve seen his mask of indifference slip from place.
“Look, man, we all have off days. Don’t stress about it.”
“Easier said than done,” he mumbles.
We fall silent, stripping out of our gear before hitting the showers. Now that Coach is cloistered in his office, the locker room turns rowdy. Everyone has caught their second wind. Guys are talking about the parties happening off-campus. The team has been at Wesley practicing twice a day since the beginning of July. We’ve spent hundreds of hours going over plays, practicing, working out, and watching game film. With school starting up next week, this will be our final hoorah. Everyone wants to cut loose and party their asses off before we have to buckle down for the season.
I hit the shower, wash up, and grab a towel before heading to my locker. I find Colton on the bench, staring pensively at his hands. I’m not sure if he’s deliberately hanging back, waiting for the team to clear out so they don’t hear Coach rip him a new one, or if something else is bothering him.
“Come on, get a move on it,” I prod. “I want to get out of here.”
“Go on without me.” He glances toward the office. “I have the feeling this will take a while.”
I pull on a pair of athletic shorts before shoving my feet into slides. “Does this have anything to do with Alyssa?”
“Fuck if I know,” Colton sighs, dragging a hand over his face.
I’m surprised when he doesn’t shutdown that line of questioning. The Colton I grew up with would never let a girl mess with his mojo on the field. But then again, Alyssa is the only girl he’s ever dated. In all honesty, it shocked the hell out of me when they got together. Who would have suspected Colton could be monogamous?
Or that he wanted to be.
Just when I was getting used to them as a couple, he cut her loose. The call of the wild turned out to be too much temptation to resist. I had assumed Colton would move on without a problem. But maybe I was wrong about that. I’m not saying I have all the pieces to the puzzle figured out, but here’s what I know—he’s been messed up for a while now and it’s gotten worse since we ran into Alyssa.
Unsure if I should continue, I say, “You could talk to her.”
“Yeah, I tried that.” He snorts and flicks his attention to me. “That girl could give Coach a run for his money in the ass reaming department.”
One side of my mouth hitches.
“You heard her. She wants nothing to do with me. In fact, she’d rather I not breathe the same air as her.” He shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. “If Lys had her way, she’d rather I didn’t breathe at all.”
He’s right.
“Can you blame her?” The way he dumped her was harsh. From what I heard, it involved a text message.
Any trace of humor that had sparked to life in his eyes vanishes as he goes back to staring at his clasped hands. “Nope, not at all.”