Page 235 of By His Play

And then when things escalated in St. Louis, I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed falling asleep with her and then waking up the next day with her in my arms.

I certainly knew how much I missed it when I got back here without her.

My apartment doesn’t feel like home anymore. My bed is lonely.

Everything is fucking lonely.

Even when I’ve been with my brothers, my teammates, something is missing.

I thought this was going to be our time. That we could start over together.

My mom and Grams have been pointing us in the right direction for years. We just couldn’t see it.

Well, now I can.

I can see it clear as fucking day, and one of my best friends has ruined it for me.

I always suspected there could be more between them, but I’d convinced myself that it was just in my head.

How fucking wrong I was.

She just told you that nothing is going on, a little voice whispers in my head, but I dismiss it.

I don’t need a reason or answers right now.

I just need action.

I pull up at the stadium only minutes later and swing my car in next to Brax’s.

As soon as I step out, I crack my knuckles.

Fuck, I need this.

I don’t pay attention to who else is here.

After letting myself into the building, I make a beeline to the gym.

Everyone is under the impression that all we do is party and go on vacation during the off-season, but that couldn’t be further from the truth for most of us. It’s Friday night, and I guarantee that there will be more than a few guys here working out.

I walk down the red and black hallways that have always meant so much to me.

As a little boy, all I dreamed of was playing for the Chiefs. They’ve always been my team.

The day I got drafted from college was the best fucking day of my life.

I’ve worked my ass off every day since to prove myself worthy of this team. Worthy of my position.

My palms slam on the double doors, swinging them wide open and announcing my arrival to anyone who isn’t lost in their own little world.

Easton Brooks, our quarterback, is the only one who looks up from the weights bench.

“Callahan?” he questions, a deep V forming between his brows as he studies me.

But it’s not him I came here for.

Ripping my eyes away from him, I scan the rest of the equipment, searching for the asshole who’s ruined everything for me.

I find him on a treadmill, his AirPods in and totally unaware that anyone else has entered the gym.

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