Page 142 of Studs Up
“He was,” I whispered.
“Why not anymore?”
Now wasn’t the time to tell them the truth.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“Naw,” he put a thick, heavy hand on my shoulder. “Love is only complicated because we make it so. Love is very uncomplicated. You should call him.”
“I wish I could,” I said, realizing I had said it aloud.
“Of course, you can,” Charlemagne said.
“I burned that bridge.”
“Bridges can be rebuilt.”
If only it was that simple. If Nolan had been from Colorado, Sin City, New York, or literally any other team, I might be able to tell them. But he wasn’t. He was an essential part of the plan to stop us from winning. He was a rival. Forbidden. And no longer mine.
“Not this one.”
“You are so stubborn. After the game, we shall all help you rebuild this bridge. It will be a team building exercise.”
I burst out laughing. The whole image of the team getting together to help me get Nolan Reed back was truly laughable. Alex thought so because he couldn’t bite back the snickers.
“I will not take no for an answer,” he stated clearly and defiantly. “I want to meet this man. Welcome him to our family.”
Oh god. A wisp of a vision of Nolan being at a team party and being welcomed faded quickly, but the stab to my heart burned.
“We’ll see,” I said. I had to appease him for now.
“Yes,” he eyed me. “We shall see, indeed.”
“Let it go, Charlemagne,” Alex said. Charlemagne huffed, completely unconvinced, and I added that to the list of things to tackle in the off season.
“By the way,” Alex said. “I told them.”
“You did? Alex, you didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I really did. The point is, you aren’t alone.”I was taken aback. My friend came out just so I wouldn’t be alone. Overwhelming gratitude was smothered by rampant jealousy that he had the safety net of knowing he’d be accepted. I was happy for him. But nothing could penetrate my misery.
“This team is family,” Rafa said. “And we take that seriously.”
I bit my lip to keep the tears from falling. I didn’t even think I had any left, but they were on the verge of spilling out.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I was overwhelmed from rock bottom to climbing back up again.
One by one, with hugs and handshakes, the team filed out. Montero stopped and looked at the pie one more time.
“You know,” I said. “I have never really been a fan of rhubarb.”
“Oh no,” he frowned like he didn’t mean it.
“I would really hate for it to go to waste. But I would appreciate it if you would tell her that I loved it.”
A giant grin spread across his face, and I found myself in a tight hug and the pie plate swiftly removed from my hands. Then it was just me and Alex.
“That wasn’t so bad.” He nudged me with his shoulder. It wasn’t bad at all. “Since that worked out, maybe,” and he heaved a deep breath. “It might work out with Nolan.”
