Page 140 of The Risk Taker

I roll my eyes, closing the door behind me. “Christ. You’re such a drama queen. Just… sit down.”

Isabella takes a seat and I do the same, my legs trembling slightly. Don’t know if it’s from practice or from nerves.

Dad studies me for a second, and I’m reminded of how much I hate being the focus of attention. My chest feels tight. My palms are sweating even though the room is freezing and I feel like I’m gonna throw up.

“I…” I take a breath, then another. “I need to tell you both something.”

Dad’s posture shifts, leaning back in his chair. “You can tell us anything, Nathan. You know that.”

I nod, even though I don’t know that. Or maybe I do, but it’s hard to believe it when I’ve spent years thinking about every single possible scenario that might happen when I finally let the words out.

It’s funny. I’ve blocked a hundred slap shots from guys twice my size. I’ve faced Westbrook’s offense. I’ve been tackled mid-play and gotten back up. But nothing has ever made me feel like this. Like my ribcage is too small for my lungs. Like I might crack open if I breathe too hard.

I glance over at Isabella and she quirks a brow, trying to guess what this is about. I look back at Dad, his brows slightly furrowed, but he doesn’t push me.

My knee starts bouncing and I drag a hand down my face, blowing out a slow, shaky breath.

“I’m dating someone,” I say finally.

Dad nods. “Okay.”

I grip the edge of the chair like it’ll keep me anchored. “It’s, um… it’s Logan.”

I never thought I’d hate silence so much, but it’s the worst thing in the world when I’ve just dropped the biggest bomb in my life and they’re just… staring at me without saying a word.

Isabella blinks for fucking ever. “Logan?” she repeats. “As in Logan Gray? Your teammate?”

My ears burn. “Yeah.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Look who’s been sneaking around behind Coach’s back,” she says, folding her arms. “You made such a big deal about me and Ryan. Meanwhile you’ve been doing the exact same thing.”

She’s not wrong.

And I hate that she’s not wrong.

Because now that I’m standing here, nerves all over the place, stomach twisted into knots, trying to string words together, I finally get why they hid it. Why she didn’t want to tell me or Dad before she was ready.

You don’t see it happening until it’s happening, and once it is… you kind of want to keep it for yourself. Just for a little while. Before everyone has an opinion. Before it becomes real in ways you can’t take back.

It doesn’t make it sting any less that she kept it secret, or that Ryan did too. It fucking sucked. But I understand them in a way I didn’t before.

I let out a slow breath. “Okay,” I say. “Fine. You’re right. I get it now.”

Isabella smirks. “You’re lucky I like Logan and that I’m not an overprotective sibling acting like your relationship has anything to do with me.”

A laugh slips out of me, which I didn’t think was possible two minutes ago. But it settles when I realize Dad hasn’t said anything yet.

He’s just watching me and I don’t know what that look means.

Isabella stands up, grabbing her bag. “Okay, I actually have to go now or I’m going to be late for class.” She steps closer and smiles down at me. “I’m happy for you,” she says, and when she wraps her arms around me, I let her. She squeezes tighter. “You know I love you no matter what.”

“Thanks, Izz,” I mumble against her shoulder.

She gives me one more quick hug, squeezes my arm, then heads for the door.

And suddenly it’s just me and Dad.

I take a breath, bracing myself for whatever comes next.