He was even off with Travis, and The Ram didn’t have the patience Quil seemed to. Brett was soon to get the horns, he knew, because Trav was frustrated too. He was anxious about proposing to Sky soon.
Brett’s aggravation was at an all-time high when Pax came up and frowned at him.
“Dude, take it easy, will ya? You’re gonna throw your shoulder out.” Paxton motioned to his right arm as Brett lifted yet another rep in an overhead press. It was heavy and yeah, he was struggling, but the anger blinded anything else. He set the weight down loudly and jumped up, brows drawing as he faced off with the big linebacker.
“Mind your own business, merman,” Brett growled.
“Easy, Brett. C’mon man, you’re not the only one missing him, you know?” Pax whined. To be so broad and strong, he was a damn teddy bear.
Brett shoved him. Perhaps sparring would help lift some of the tension he felt. “What’d you say to me?”
“C’mon, Zeus, stop.” Pax held his hands up, gentle giant he was.
“Don’t fucking call me that!” Brett grumbled.
“It’s who you are!” Pax argued.
“Some great fuckin’ god I am. I can’t even throw a damn football right now. You haven’t seen it, you don’t know.” It was true. He’d only practiced with the offense. Defense had different camps this week.
“Even Zeus wasn’t perfect.”
Jesus, these guys took this Greek god thing far too serious. Brett rolled his eyes.
“What?”
“You! You just don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get? He was our friend too, Brett. And I’m not going to stop calling us gods because we are. We proved that last year. You proved it. I did. Hunt—”
“Don’t throw his name around,” Brett warned, finger out.
“Why? Does it bother you?”
“Watch yourself, Pax,” Brett cautioned again, knowing his anger was about to erupt.
“He believed in us, too. Just because you’ve chosen to bury his legacy along with his body, some of us aren’t so quick to do so.”
“How dare you fuckin’ say that to me!” Brett grabbed Pax’s shirt collar and gritted his teeth in the man’s face. “You have no idea how I feel, what I’ve gone through…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” A deep voice and big hand on his shoulder brought Brett back from the ledge. He felt himself being pushed back as Quillan Layton came up in between him and Paxton. “Breathe, Cap, just breathe.” Quil looked into Brett’s face and pushed at his shoulders again, sitting him down on a nearby bench. He then turned to Paxton and whispered something.
Brett felt his entire body shake as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He’d been ready to tear his LB’s face off. What the hell is wrong with me? Brett covered his face in his hands as he attempted to calm his rage. He needed a soak, a drink, a fuck, a swim… something!
“You alright, ese?” Quillan asked as he sat down next to Brett and patted his shoulder again.
“I dunno. I’m not so sure right now to be honest,” Brett answered, truthfully.
“Death is hard. And just when you think you have a handle of it, it slaps you back down to the ground.”
That’s right! Quil’s wife had died, under what circumstances Brett wasn’t sure. If anyone could understand, it was Quil.
“I’m sorry, man.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You and Pax’ll be joking around about it before the week’s out.”
It was probably true, but it didn’t make Brett feel any better about how he treated his friend.
“He didn’t deserve that.”
“Sometimes we focus our anger on people who don’t deserve it when we’re at our most vulnerable. Don’t worry, he’ll forgive you.”
Brett wasn’t worried about Pax forgiving him. Pax was easy, cool, light-hearted. He’d realign his chakras or whatever, meditate, and be over it in no time, but Brett would have the stigma for a time. That was what he did best. Hold grudges.
“You aren’t the only one in pain, Brett. Just keep that in mind.”
Brett nodded. He knew that, he did; he just was so consumed with his own at the moment.
“We’re gonna find our groove, man. Ok? We will. Zeus isn’t done here.” Quil smirked and elbowed him. “I just want you to know that I’m patient. I’m not gonna stop working at it. It’s gonna take time. But we will get it. I believe in our spirit. We got a lot of people counting on us, and we all have the talent.”
Brett looked his new teammate over. Despite his dark brows and serious demeanor, there was a lightness to him, a man who shown with promise, a man who knew about second chances, a man who’d also stared death in the face and not let it swallow him up. It gave Brett pause, and he nodded again.
“Thanks for the bout of confidence, Quil. I’m gonna go shower now and head home.”
“Rest is as important as work, amigo. Make sure to take care of yourself.”
“You too, ace.” Brett stood and began to walk away, only to hear Quil say, “Remember, we got a Super Bowl to prepare for.”
When he turned back around, Quil winked and gave him a smile. Brett smirked back. If only he had that same conviction.
Brett heard the doorbell ring and looked to Madi who blushed. He’d noticed she was making more food than usual—who had she invited to dinner?
Quillan’s deep voice called from the doorway, and Brett internally sighed. Why had she brought him here? Madi gave him a hug, which irked Brett to no end, but then Madi squatted down and her voice softened. Brett frowned and moved toward the door, his curiosity getting the best of him.
He stopped when he saw the cutest little girl he’d ever laid eyes on. Beautiful, brown hair, eyes and skin just like her father’s. She was definitely Quillan’s child, there was no denying it. She couldn’t have been older than six, wearing a princess-type gown that looked more like a costume.
“And who’s your favorite Disney princess, Quinn?” Madi asked her, tapping her lightly on the nose.
