Page 29 of Side Out

Resigning to the fact that there’s no going back, I sigh. “I’m engaged, but it’s not what it seems. It?—”

“Stop right there.” He holds out his hand, cutting me off. “You mean to tell me that woman that just had her perfect little manicured hand on your chest, the one with that fucking rock on her ring finger, is-is yourfiancée?”

“Yes,” I answer softly.

“I was coming in here to tell you that I’m planning on coming back for my fifth year. That I’m going to spend next year having the final season I’ve been working so hard for. That no matter how much I want to be with you, I want that for me more. I wanted to see if you’d wait for me.” His eyes glass over, and he chokes back a sob. “But it’s obvious that was never going to happen. That I was just some little game you kept taking out of the closet, but never actually played. That I was just someone you wanted to string along.”

“That’s not true, Jax.” The fact that he even thinks that is enough to break my heart in the middle of this hallway.

“What do you mean that’s not true? How could you care about me even in the slightest, and secretly be fucking engaged?” he hisses, and I have look away from his face because it’s too much to see the hurt that’s swallowing him whole.

He fists my shirt, pulling me into him, and through gritted teeth asks, “How long?”

Our faces are inches apart, and if anyone were to see us like this I would be fucked, but I can’t find it in me to care. “Two years.”

He leans into my ear, and the disgusted tone of his voice has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up straight. “You’re a fucking asshole, Theo.”

He pushes my shoulders back right as he spots Clay coming out of the locker room down the hall.

I rush out, “Knee’s looking good, Jackson. Just keep up the conditioning, and you’ll be set for next season.” Clay rolls his eyes, clearly not buying for one second that Jax and I were just talking about his knee.

“Next season?” Clay pinches his brow in question.

Great, I just fucking told his best friend huge news that Jax should’ve had the privilege to give.

Let’s see how much more I can royally fuck up with him today.

“Yeah,” Jax murmurs. “I was going to tell you after championship week was over. I’m using my fifth-year eligibility and coming back to play next year. I have some advanced-level coding and programming classes I could take, and I just wanted one more year to play. I’m not looking to make it a career, but I just—” He inhales a deep sigh. “I just wasn’t ready to be done yet. I want one more year so I can end it my way. Ya know?”

I’m looking at the ground because what else am I supposed to be doing? I’ve made Jax’s whole senior year miserable, and now we’re going to have to repeat the entire thing all over again. I’m a pathetic human, so why not drag everyone else around me down to the depths of hell with me…

Misery loves company, right?

“That’s great, man.” Clay claps him on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you, really. You deserve to have a great final season. Just take it easy over the summer.” I look up to find Clay glaring daggers at me. “Would hate to see you get hurt.Again.”

He’s talking to Jax, but it’s clear his words are directed at me. I don’t know how he knows, but he does. And while I understand he’s being protective of his best friend, the last thing I need is him piling on. Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Did you need something from me, Clayton?”

“Yup.” He plasters on a fake smile. “Just need you to tape up my wrist. Tweaked it a little yesterday on a dive and figured better safe than sorry.”

Jax doesn’t look at me again and instead asks Clay, “You feel good about today?”

“Great,” he answers while still looking at me.

I look between the two of them, and despite the burning desire to stand here and finish our conversation, I know that our chance to talk is long gone.

Nodding, I turn on my heels and head back into my office as I hear Jax hiss, “Don’t, Clay. I’ve got it handled.”

* * *

I’m on the sidelines beside Coach Taylor, and at the opposite end of the bench is a fuming Jax taking stats of the game. He won’t so much as spare me a glance.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Rocky and Clay are on the final points of the first set when I see a blonde head of hair climbing the stands on the other side of the court.

Because why the fuck not.

I pull my eyes from her and look back at Jax.

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