Page 39 of Until He Scores

Staying with him made the last two weeks abysmal. At least when I’d been fourteen, Derrick didn’t exist.

Also, lucky me, I could relive those humiliating moments at the compound, because July videoed the whole confrontation without either of us knowing. The second my words—spoken in anger—registered on his face, I knew I’d hit Pope way below the belt. I’d demanded and received something from him he couldn’t give me unless I was drunk and didn’t care about the consequences. I used him to bust a nut then, like a coward, I ran. That wasn’t fair to him. I was a dick for that.

So, when my phone rang, and Pope’s name appeared on the screen, apologizing was the right thing to do. Instead, I chickened out. I let the call go to voicemail and shoved my head deep in the sand. I blamed the stress of being a coach as to why I didn’t answer. Or the fact Derrick somehow always knew when my phone was about to ring. The nth stage clinger wouldn’t take a hint and leave.

Then again, I hadn’t given him any reason to.

When I finally did gain enough courage to listen to the voicemail, all Pope asked about was my knee and how I was doing. There hadn’t been a hint of anger or rejection in his voice. Maybe he thought I’d paid him back for being an asshole. Or he figured out he was straight? Deep down, I wondered if the questions about my knee had been a euphemism for how I was doing mentally after our night together. Honestly, I couldn’t answer either question. Whether it was about my knee or about the fact Pope jerked me off and it was the best moment of my life.

The travel time and games away from Tennessee, Murfreesboro, more specifically, should have given me perspective about everything. Yet, I’d felt more lost and alone than I ever had. So much so, I couldn’t reconcile what I was feeling. The only place where all the noise stopped had been the ice, and I couldn’t even be out there now.

“You have been walking around with a look of consternation on your face along with a forced smile since we came home. It’s the most unnerving thing I have ever witnessed, Thierry.” Pavel tapped my arm with the water bottle drawing my attention. “What has you in knots?”

Pavel wouldn’t understand. “Life decisions.”

He lifted his mask, exposing his bearded face and silver eyes. “That sounds a bit like love problems. Can I ask you a question without offending you?”

“You could always ask me anything,” I replied.

“Who is the bedazzled asshole and why are you with him? He’s...” Pavel frowned. “Not good person.”

No, Derrick wasn’t. Somehow in two weeks’ time, he insinuated himself back into my life. Thank fuck he wasn’t staying with me. I’d have gone insane if he’d tried that shit. Still, I’d let it happen. I took my fear of Pope rejecting me and allowed it to manifest with the return of Derrick because he was safe. And I didn’t mean safe in any sense of the word. I knew a snake in the grass when I saw one, and Derrick was just a more colorful version of a cottonmouth.

“You could say that again,” I muttered around a swallow of water.

“There is someone better for you,” Pavel replied.

I snorted. “Who’d round me up?” I tried to keep my tone light but failed miserably as the corners of his eyes crinkled and his lips thinned in protest.

“You have always thought so little of yourself. Who gives a shit,” he snapped. “No one out here will care whether you have a man or woman by your side. At some point you need to get over your hang ups.”

My brain understood the simplicity of what he said. My heart and the anxiety of being rejected, again, kept me from saying a word. Self-repression was a bitch. Now, I wasn’t so sure what I wanted.

Not to mention Pope.

Though my chance with him was long gone by now.

“I give a shit,” I answered, keeping my tone low. “I always have.”

“And you are miserable.” Pavel eyed me. “Think it over. You know what you want, Thierry. The question is, what will it take for you to understand what you have before you lose it all?”

I exhaled as Alexander blew the whistle. “I’ll think about it.”

“You think too hard. Go with your heart.” He patted his chest. “You’ll see.”

I smirked. “Rosemary has you wrapped around her little finger.” Changing the conversation gave me a moment to breathe and smooth out the rough edges and collect my erratic thoughts.

Guilt ate away at me. Would it ever be as easy as Pavel thought it could be? I had to admit, before I ran away, Pope tried to understand what I was going through. The conversation on his balcony area replayed in my mind several times over the last few days. The genuine curiosity in his voice and the way he asked questions should have been enough to show Pope was looking for a lifeline. So, what exactly caused me to not want to give over to him? Why couldn’t I step out of that protective barrier I’d placed around me and give him, my best friend in the universe, a chance?

Pain.

It already hurt beyond explanation when he abandoned me, well-meaning or not. Putting myself out there with him had the potential for him to discard me once more. I couldn’t take the heartbreak of his rebuff again. I wasn’t strong enough to go through the torment of knowing I’d finally put myself out there and he said no. Did that mean I was taking his choice away?

In some respects, yes.

It was better this way. For both of us.

After eating our pre-game meal together, the guys went to the locker room to dress out for our last home game while I went to find Coach so we could plan our strategy. Starting tomorrow, we’d be on the road for the next four weeks, preparing for the playoffs. We sat within striking distance of the number one spot, which meant turning the intensity up a notch.

---