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Despite it being the first part of November, it’s in the upper sixties or lower seventies today, similar to the weather in LA. When I got drafted there, I was thankful. I didn’t miss the KC cold.

“You’re playing like the old Hunter out there,” he says, pride in his voice. Part of it is for me—I think he generally wants what’s best for me—but the other part is him takingcredit for me. Despite being good even before meeting the Blakes, he takes credit for so much when it comes to my game. And I’ve always given him all that credit too.

“Yes, sir. I’ve missed this, feeling more like myself, playing more like myself.”

“I like it. I knew you had it in you. Ellis would be proud.”

I look down, unable to make eye contact. Those words still hurt, regardless of how true they are. “Yeah…he would be.”

“I’m glad we have you, son. You’re not officially a Blake, but you might as well be. You’ll carry on our legacy the way I always wanted one of my sons to do.”

I nod, my gut twisting into a painful knot. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to talk about football, Ellis, or anything else with him, but I can’t walk away either. To him, I’m a son, and I’ve always thought that’s what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure.

Abbie pokes her head out the door, saving me. “Dinner is ready.”

We head inside, washing our hands and sitting at the table. Abbie serves us in a way that’s always made me uncomfortable, but like earlier, any time I offer to help, I’m shut down. That’s just not how they do things here.

We’re about halfway through dinner, when he says, “Apparently, Lucas moved to LA.” I can hear the detachment in his voice. It’s so different from how he would talk about Ellis or me. All that just because his son is strong enough to be who he is.

“Yeah…I know,” I reply, then take a bite.

“Oh, did I tell you?” Abbie asks sincerely.

“Um…no. I’ve seen him.” I don’t want to lie about that—something won’t let me. Not just because I’d rather not be the kind of man who lies at all, but because it feels like betrayal toward Lucas. They can’t know what we’re doing, but I don’t want to deny him.

“You have? That’s nice! He didn’t mention that.” Abbie smiles, clearly happy that we’ve reconnected.

“That boy never knows what he wants. New York to LA, photography and an art gallery? I don’t know why he didn’t open one in New York if he wanted one so badly.”

“He has a good friend in LA.” While I haven’t met Isla, Lucas has told me a lot about her. I know they’ve slept together, but that was before we connected. And if Lucas shares anything of himself with a person, it’s going to be Isla…well, Isla and maybe now me.

“Who is that?” he asks.

Shit. Has Lucas never talked about her? “Her name is Isla.”

“Are they in a relationship?”

“No. I don’t think so.”He’s in one with me. He spends most of his nights in my bed, making me smile and feel free.

“He won’t settle down even if he cared about this woman, just because he knows it’s something his mother and I would like to see. Just like he threw away his talent to spite me,” Coach Blake complains.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise, the urge to defend Lucas building inside me. Does he know Lucas at all? “He was a kid when he chose not to play. It’s just not who he is. But he’s an incredible photographer. Have you seen any of his work? And the gallery is doing well. From what I’ve seen, it’s really popular. Just because Lucas isn’t playing football doesn’t mean what he’s doing isn’t valid.”

“That’s not what he meant, dear. We both know how talented he is,” Abbie says, trying to keep the peace, to smooth over the moment, and it’s not until this second that I realize how often she’s done that. How she’s always trying to keepher husband happy and defend him, while also trying to support Lucas.

How did all this make Lucas feel? He pays attention to things, more than I ever did. He’s good at seeing what others don’t take the time to see. Even when he was a kid, he had to have seen this…had to have felt it.

“I think Lucas is exactly where he’s supposed to be,” I add.

I feel Coach’s gaze on me, know he’s wondering where that came from, why I’m coming to Lucas’s defense in a firmer way than I’ve ever done.

“Lucas threw away his legacy to spite me. Ellis would have never done that. You would have never done that.”

The tower of guilt I’ve been building higher and higher over the years collapses on top of me, but not for the reasons I would’ve thought. It’s because of the pride I always felt in being the one to accomplish Coach Blake’s dreams for a son, never asking how any of this made Ellis feel, or how all of us left Lucas to carry the burden of his father alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Lucas