Page 120 of No Contest

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"But what if that's not enough? What if Rhett figures out that the real me is just... quiet and scared and too fucked up to trust good things?"

"Like most of us," whispered Evan.

Jake added, "If he's like that, then he's an idiot, but he's not."

Evan rested a hand on my good shoulder. "He sees you, Hog. And he wants to stay anyway. So either you believe him, or you don't. Either way, you don't get to make that choice for him."

He gathered his things and headed for the showers, leaving Jake and me sitting in the steam.

Jake watched Evan go, whistled at a brief flash of his bare ass, and turned back to me. "You gonna talk to him?"

"Yeah." I pulled the last piece of tape free. "Yeah, I will."

"When?"

"I don't know yet."

"Tonight." It was an order. "Go tonight."

"I need to—"

"Stop," Jake interrupted. "Stop waiting for the perfect moment that you think you've got your shit together. Just go."

He stood, grabbed his towel, and followed Evan toward the showers.

As I dressed, my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I knew without looking that it was Rhett.

I made it to my car before I finally checked.

Rhett:Morning. Sleep okay?

Rhett:At the Underwood job if you want to stop by after practice

Rhett:Or we could grab lunch. Your call

I sat in my idling Prius, windshield fogging, with the ice pack taped to my shoulder through my hoodie.

My reflection stared back from the rearview mirror—dark circles under my eyes and jaw tight enough to crack teeth.

Outside, snow had started falling—wet, heavy flakes.

I sent back a message.

Hog:Practice was rough. Need some time to clear my head. Can I call you later?

Rhett:Of course.Take the time you need. I'm here when you're ready.

I read it three times.

I'm here when you're ready.

My phone rang. Rhett's name was on the screen.

I answered. "Hi."

"Hey." His voice was warm and steady. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Just wanted to hear your voice."

The corners of my eyes burned. "I had a shit practice."

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