Pulling her close to me, I kissed her. Her words soothed me somehow and even though my life was a crazy, fucking mess, I knew that all would be okay as long as Gretchen was at my side.
I hadn’t said much about Jacob and his confession. I couldn’t think about it. Every time I did, I felt sick to my stomach. I’d close my eyes and remember how my mother looked in her final days, and I couldn’t for the life of me see Jacob that way.
It hurt. Even if I’d never admit it, I hurt. And part of me felt as long as I didn’t acknowledge his words, they weren’t true.
Gretchen and I came to a silent truce about Jacob. I wasn’t ready to forgive and forget, and she didn’t understand why. Hell, I didn’t understand why. It was almost as if by letting it go and moving past my anger, I was letting him go. It didn’t make any sense, but I’d thrived off my anger toward Jacob for so long. Thinking of suddenly letting go of the animosity I had for him made me feel crazy. There was too much going on in my life at the moment to think of adding new dimensions.
It was fucked-up, and it was selfish, but I was trying to work past it.
Gretchen told me at least a dozen times that I was a hardheaded asshole, and I agreed. But still, until I could accept the truth of things, we agreed to disagree.
He looked so healthy, still tall and daunting to most—it was hard to believe he was sick. I couldn’t stop the niggling worry in the back of my mind. I’d laughed at his unfortunate play all season, and now, I couldn’t help but feel in awe of him. Gretchen had told me all about her weekend visits, sometimes finding him sick on the floor in the bathroom, and yet, every game day he stepped on the field and played his heart out.
It was beautiful in a fucked-up way, and I was suddenly jealous of his drive. Here I was, thinking no one had the drive I had, and all along, Jacob had loved the game more than I had. When I was ready, I’d tell him that. Until then, I’d hold it all in until my pride shrank enough for me to get those words out.
“I feel like an invalid,” I complained as Gretchen wrapped my cast in a plastic bag so I could take a shower.
She snorted. “Oh, man up, you big baby.”
I pulled her close, wrapping my good arm around her, crushing my lips to hers. I devoured her, relishing the hitch of her breath as she wrapped herself around me. Her tongue met mine stroke for stroke, and I groaned when she pulled away. My cock ached with want, but she refused to let me near her because of my ribs. No matter how much I swore I was fine, she wasn’t having it. Nothing I said convinced her.
While I was lost in thought, checking her ass out and wishing I could convince her to let me inside her sweetness, she turned on the shower. The room filled with steam, fogging up the mirror. I climbed into the shower, and she turned me toward the steady stream and pushed me forward, the hot spray soaking my hair and rolling down my body. My chin met my chest as I let the water sluice down my body, relaxing my tense muscles. Still, it did nothing for my throbbing cock.
Thankfully, I’d always jacked off with my left hand. Fisting my cock, I stroked it from root to tip. I sucked in a breath and held back the groan that tried to slip past my lips.
A rush of cold air filled the shower as Gretchen stepped into the small space with me. A very naked, very sexy Gretchen.
Fuck.
Unconsciously, I stroked myself again, admiring her perfect tits and thick thighs. Her nipples pebbled, hardening beneath my gaze and making my cock throb even harder. I wanted to bury myself deep inside her wet pussy and fuck her until she screamed the house down.
Her eyes followed my hand down to my cock and watched as I stroked, twisting at the head, then back down to the root. She stared entranced, her eyes moving up and down with my fist. She swallowed hard, her tongue peeking out as she licked at her lips. Her watching me was fucking turning me on, but when she dropped to her knees in front of me, I knew things were about to get way better.
My hand fell away from my erection, and she wasted no time wrapping her smaller hand around it. I groaned, my head falling back against the cold tile. Then my head shot back up so I could look down at her when her lips wrapped around my cock and she sucked me down her throat.
“Fucking Christ, baby. That feels so good.” I wrapped my fingers around her cheek, holding her like a she was precious glass.
Her tongue swirled around the tip, licking up my pre-cum as she sucked me back into her mouth. Her tongue stroked me as she picked up a rhythm, and I watched amazed as my cock disappeared between her pouty lips.
I’d never last if she kept it up. She was too fucking hot for her own good.
“Touch yourself, beautiful. I want you to come with me.”
I knew the moment she put her hand on her pussy. She moaned around me, the sound vibrating my balls, and she started sucking me faster.
“Yeah, baby, that’s it. Make that pretty little pussy cream for me.”
Unable to hold still any longer, I pushed myself deeper into her mouth. She took everything I gave and begged me for more with her eyes. I tangled my fingers in her hair and pulled. Not enough to hurt, but enough for her to know who was in charge.
“I’m going to come,” I warned.
Throwing my head back, I buried myself in her throat, and she swallowed ever drop as she shook through her own orgasm. Looking back down at her sweet face, her eyes glazed over with passion as she finished herself off. I pulled away from her mouth, and she looked up at me with shy eyes and blushed.
Fuck, I loved her.
“You ready for this?” Coach McCall asked as he followed me onto the field.
No.
“Yes, my team is solid. They got this.”
At least, I fucking hoped.
I was in full uniform, even if I was going to be riding the bench like a broken bitch. The second string quarterback, Marcus Wayne, was taking over, and while I had faith in him, I still couldn’t help but wish I was on the field showing Newdale what was up.
It was the last game before playoffs. Camden versus Newdale. I’d been working up to this game all season, and there I was, on the sidelines, riding the bench, for the biggest game of the season. With nothing else to do, I looked around the stadium at all the fans who came out to watch our teams battle it out.
My eyes stopped on a familiar figure, and I felt my spine straighten.
My dad was there.
He came. He never, ever came to my games.
A pang of sadness swept over me, and I longed to run on the field and show him how great I could be. It was a fucked-up situation. He was finally at a game, and I couldn’t even play. It was like one of those great tragedies Professor Watt’s droned on about.
Dad raised his arm in an enthusiastic wave. Still in shock, I tipped my head in his direction. Then my eyes flicked to where Gretchen was sitting; she was cheering as the teams lined up at the thirty-yard line, her lips chanting with the crowd, except she was cheering my name.
Crazy woman.
I watched from the sidelines as the teams went hit for hit. The game was close, which of course only made sitting on the side not playing that much worse. My team was fucking around, and it didn’t look good. Newdale was on it, and unless my guys got their heads out of their asses, they weren’t going to win.
Newdale had the ball, and I watched as the ball was snapped. Jacob took a few steps back, his arms poised and ready to launch. Landon came through the middle, knocking his left guard on his ass, giving David a direct path to Jacob. In less than ten seconds, Jacob was on the ground as David drilled through him—sacked.
Without realizing it, I rose to my feet, my fingers crossed he’d get up, but at first he didn’t move. My spine straightened, and my stomach hollowed out. But then he moved, and I watched as he lifted his arm and gave a thumbs-up. His teammate reached down and pulled him to his feet, smacking him on his helmet before grabbing his pads and giving him a good shake.
I glanced behind me at Gretchen, and she was holding her hands to her mouth, worry etched in her features. She caught me watching h
er and waved with a shaky smile.
Seeing that worry on my woman’s face gave me a new perspective, and at that moment, as my team played their biggest rival, regret filled me. Remorse moved over me, and I felt my chest go heavy with sorrow.
My best friend was sick. He’d always been sick, and I wasn’t there for him. I’d been too selfish—always worrying about my feelings and myself. Meanwhile, Jacob had been dealing with cancer and still holding his shit together. I’d seen what cancer could do. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t let this shit go on. If Jacob was sick, I didn’t want him leaving this world thinking I didn’t care about him. I did. If I didn’t care about him, I wouldn’t have been so upset about losing his friendship all those years ago.
I decided right then as soon as the game was over, I’d make this right with Byrd. I’d apologize to him. I’d do whatever it took to let him know how sincere I was, and then I’d put the pieces back together. If he was going to fight for his life the way I’d seen my mother fight, then he was going to have me by his side fighting right along with him.
As I watched the game progress, my team slowly losing their lead and falling apart before my eyes, I couldn’t find it in myself to be upset by it. Jacob was playing the game, and somehow, that was suddenly more important than our win. His body was rebelling against him, and if what Gretchen said was true, this was possibly his last game.
Why not let him go out with a bang?
I changed so drastically in those minutes during the game that it literally took my breath away. Because if I’d known then what I know now, things would have been different. I would have been a different guy—treated people the way they deserved. I would have taken the time to find out the truth instead of just assuming everything. As my daddy used to say, when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.
I’d definitely done that.
I was an asshole of the worst degree. Trying to take things that weren’t mine; sucking up all the glory without care for anyone else. I was a selfish jerk, and no matter how badly I wished I could go back and change it all, I knew that every turn of events in my life brought me to this moment.
This moment was one of the most important in my life. It was a moment where I could show a true friend exactly how much he meant to me. It was a moment when I could give my all for someone other than myself—someone on the verge of greatness.
And as I watched him run with all his might toward the end zone, I knew that watching him win was the best feeling in the world. Better than the bitter rivalry that had fueled me for years. Better than the anger that had pushed me to be the best. Better than everything. Because when Red Byrd won, so did I. And today, as I watched him drill the ball into the end zone and celebrate with his team, I knew I was a winner.
My team had lost for the first time this season, but I never wanted to celebrate more in my life.
I watched from the sidelines as his team surrounded him. They celebrated the biggest win of their season, hoisting Jacob up onto their shoulders and parading him along the end zone. The smile on this face was contagious, and I found myself smiling along with him.
“What the fuck you smiling about, Sawyer? We lost, dude,” Derrick said as he passed me on his way to the locker room.
I shook my head and patted him on the shoulder. “Good game, man. Y’all kicked ass out there tonight.”
He snorted sarcastically and smacked his helmet against the cement wall at my side.
My boys were upset with their loss, but still, I smiled as I watched Jacob and his team celebrate. Things broke up and the team went to the sidelines to celebrate with their coaches. The adrenaline from their victory was running through me, even as my team groaned and complained about the win being stolen from them.
Jacob was several feet behind his teammates. I imagined after the season he had, he was in a bit of a shock over the win they’d pulled off. But then he leaned to the right a bit, and I knew something wasn’t right.
I stepped toward the field, suddenly feeling like I needed to run to him. And when he collapsed, I did run. Without a second thought, I crossed the field, falling to my knees at his side.
He was unconscious, his mouth open and blood dripping from the corner of his lips.
“Medics!” I screamed toward his team. “Someone call the medics!”
I swear it took them hours to get to us, but I’m sure it was minutes. Time stood still as I leaned over my best friend, watching his face pale before my eyes.
“Don’t you dare do this now, Red Byrd,” I begged. “We still have to fix this shit, man. Please, Jacob, let me fix this.”
The medics dropped down beside us, pushing me out of the way while they checked him over. I stood to the side, my stomach feeling as though it had been turned inside out, and I watched as they loaded him onto a stretcher and rushed him from the field. Gretchen was breathless at my side, having run from the bleachers, and when they took him away, a wrecked sob tore from her throat.
I pulled her to my side and wrapped my good arm around her. “He’ll be okay,” I promised.
I just hoped that that promise didn’t get broken. I prayed that Jacob would be okay, but really, I had no idea what to expect.
“But he didn’t say anything,” Aunt Irene cried from the side of Jacob’s bed. “How could he not tell us he wasn’t feeling well?”
The doctor had just informed Aunt Irene and Uncle Walt that Jacob’s cancer had returned. Apparently, Jacob had listened to me and reached out to the doctor before his last game. The doctor hadn’t even had the time to get back his results before Jacob was lying on the field dying.
He’d always thought his cancer would be the thing that killed him. Little did he know, a ruptured spleen and a few blot clots to the brain got the job done much faster.
He was still holding on an hour after his collapse. Barely, but he was still with us. The doctors said there was nothing they could do, that he’d already bled out too much and the trauma to his brain from the clots had been too much. Apparently, after getting sacked, Jacob continued to play even though the pain he was experiencing had to have been unbearable.
We couldn’t figure out why he was still with us, but something told me he was waiting for Sawyer. I knew in my heart that once Sawyer apologized and accepted his friendship again, he’d let go and leave this world.
Tears worked down my cheeks, my eyes burning from crying so hard, as I watched his mother cry over his unconscious body. I moved to the side of his bed and slid my hand into his. Leaning over him, I softly kissed his cheek.
“You’re my best friend, and I love you,” I whispered in his ear. “Thank you for always being there.”
When I pulled back, a sob vibrated my chest. This was really happening. I hadn’t expected it so soon. Hell, I hadn’t really expected it all. Jacob had gotten and fought off cancer for a big chunk of his life. I expected him to fight and win again. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.
Backing up, I felt Sawyer’s big frame fall in behind me. His good arm wrapped around me, and instantly, I felt stronger.
“Do you think he can hear you?” Sawyer asked from behind me, his voice full of emotion.
Turning in his arm, I reached up and touched my fingertips to his cheek. His eyes glistened with unshed tears and his bottom lip trembled.
“I know he can,” I whispered.
And I meant it. Jacob couldn’t respond, but I knew it in my heart that he knew we were there. He knew we loved him, and he had to know I’d be there by his side when his body gave out and he took his last breath.
Sawyer nodded, a single tear finally breaking free and moving down his cheek. He stepped around me, his large frame taking up most of the space next to Jacob’s bed, and I stood at his side, softly rubbing reassuring circles on his back with the palm of my hand.
He slipped his large hand into Jacob’s and leaned over his unconscious body.
“I need you to know some
thing, man,” he whispered into Jacob’s ear, his deep voice a hum in the quiet room. “Nobody played the game like you, bro. No one. I’ll cherish every moment I had on the field with you. It was an honor to play the best.” He leaned back a bit, his eyes locking with mine before he moved in closer to Jacob’s ear. “I also want you to know … I’m so fucking sorry, Jake.” His voice broke as tears rushed down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry I was such a hardheaded jerk—that I wasn’t there to help you fight for your life, man. I should’ve been there. You’re my best friend, Jacob, and I hope you can forgive me. I love you, man.”
I cried with him, holding his large body as he cried at Jacob’s side.
And then everything stopped.
Sawyer looked up into Jacob’s face, his eyes searching for some sort of response.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, scared that Jacob had finally let go.
Sawyer looked at me, his tear-streaked face breaking into a small smile. “He squeezed my hand. It was strong, Gretchen. He squeezed it tight.”
I smiled, knowing that was Jacob’s way of letting Sawyer know he heard him.
“He heard you,” I said, watching as tears soaked Sawyer’s shirt. “He forgives you.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, the monitors letting us know Jacob was still with us flatlined. There was no more beeping—there was only silence as everyone in the room watched him slip away.
Just as I expected, Jacob had waited on Sawyer, and I was so glad that he loved us enough to hold on just a bit longer. I knew how badly Sawyer needed that forgiveness, and I was so glad Jacob had figured out a way to give him that before leaving this world.
A hit to his stomach and ribs had taken his life.
A ruptured spleen.
A few blood clots.
Not cancer.
In a way, it was kind of beautiful. Jacob had gone out doing the thing he loved the most. He’d gone out playing the game and winning. It was a much better death than lying in bed suffering from cancer. I had to remember when I had a minute to thank God for that.
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