Roughing the Kicker (Austin Troopers)

Chapter Sixteen

T he big win in Denver bolstered the team’s confidence, and the mood and energy going into the Tennessee game was positive. Another win on the road would greatly improve the team’s playoff chances, while a loss would make things very grim.

With so much on the line, some teams might elect to play it safe. Instead, Coach Oliviera drew up an aggressive game plan. The head coach appeared to be firmly in the ‘go big or go home’ mindset. It worked well against Denver, so why not?

The plan didn’t work, though, and the team suffered a close loss to Tennessee, effectively putting the team in a do or die situation in the next game. Despite the pressure, the mood surrounding the team was generally positive in the days before the game in Jacksonville. They still had a chance. They simply had to take it.

It sounded great in theory, but after unfortunate turnovers on two of the first three possessions, Austin found itself playing from behind. It was a position the players never liked to be in, and the pressure got to them. They fought hard, but never clawed their way back into the game.

Jacksonville 42, Austin 23.

It probably shouldn’t have been that close. The reality was it was a good, old-fashioned ass-kicking. Even though Rye converted all three of his field goals and both extra points, he took no comfort in the defeat. If the team could win while he missed every kick he took, he’d enjoy that much more.

A few weeks earlier, it was Addison who had tried to assure Rye that the loss wasn’t his fault, even though he blamed himself. Now it was Rye’s turn to be there for his quarterback after a three-interception performance.

Even worse, Addison had sprained his ankle and his status for the remainer of the season was in question.

“Even if I’m ready to go, I probably don’t start. Not with the playoffs out of reach,” the starting quarterback lamented on the flight home. Addy sat next to his back-up quarterback and boyfriend, Callum, while Rye had the aisle seat in the row. Cal had dozed off, his fingers laced through Addy’s and his head resting on Addy’s shoulder.

It might have been an off arrangement for some, but it worked for them. Cal knew his role as Addison’s back-up, and it never seemed to be a problem. They’d been together for several years and shared an easy rapport. They seldom fought, and Rye thought they made a great couple.

Sometimes he wondered if he had more courage and left Kristen to explore his attraction to Cutter if they might have a chance at a relationship like the two quarterbacks did. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

“The loss isn’t on you,” Rye assured Addison. “If you’re healthy, you deserve to start. You’ve had a great season.”

“Thanks, man. Appreciate you saying that.” Addison glanced over at Callum, still dozing. “It’s okay if Cal gets the start, though,” he said. “We’re cool. Once the game is over and we go home, we won’t be thinking about football at all, anyway.”

“That’s good.” Rye couldn’t believe Cal was still asleep, even with their conversation being about him. “Does he always sleep this well?”

Addison grinned. “Pretty much, yeah. He can sleep through anything.”

“I’m jealous,” Rye said. “I’ve never been a good sleeper.” He especially wasn’t lately. The bed in the spare room he was staying in wasn’t very comfortable, and the uncertainty surrounding his relationship with Kristen had him plagued with anxiety.

“I hear ya.” Addison tried to stretch out his leg and visibly winced. “Ouch.”

“The ankle bothering you?”

“Quite a bit,” Addie said. “I’m going to have to get Cutter to look at it tomorrow. Dude’s got magic hands, I swear.”

“Mm. Yeah,” Rye agreed, remembering the feel of Cutter’s hands on his back.

“What’s that look for?” Addison asked.

Rye frowned. “What look?”

“The dopey expression on your face. There’s not something going on between you and Cutter, is there?”

“Huh?” Rye tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” Addison shrugged. “I’ve noticed you guys have been having lunch together a lot at the training center.”

It was true. If Rye was the first one there, he’d save a seat for Cutter. If he got there and found the trainer already there, Rye made a point of joining him at his table. He liked the conversation. He liked the friendship. Lately, he found they didn’t even need to talk that much. They simply enjoyed each other’s company. After isolating himself for so long due to his problems at home, Rye welcomed the solace and comfort he found with Cutter.

“What if we do? Is it a crime to have lunch with someone?” Great. Now he sounded like a defensive asshole.

“What the hell? No, man,” Addison said. “I think it’d be great if you had something going on with Cutter. He seems like a great guy.”

“He is, but we’re just friends,” Rye insisted. “If we’re done, I’m going to try to get some sleep now.” He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep for the rest of the flight, avoiding future conversation.

Avoidance. He seemed to be getting good at it.

When the flight landed back in Austin, Rye was quick to grab his bag and hurry off. He wasn’t fast enough, though, as he heard someone call his name as he approached.

Cutter.

Rye couldn’t avoid him even if he wanted to, so he turned around. “Hey.”

~&~

Cutter hoped Rye might come sit with him on the long flight back from Jacksonville, but instead he sat with a couple of his teammates. He didn’t know if it was because Rye was in a bad mood about the team’s loss or something else. Either way, Cutter was disappointed, and when the kicker hurried off to his truck, he hurried after him.

“Hey, yourself. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing,” Rye replied. “I hate losing, and I think the playoffs are done now.”

“Probably.” Cutter wanted to believe otherwise, but he wouldn’t sugar coat it. Everyone affiliated with the team knew the reality of the situation. “There’s still a chance at a winning season, though,” he said. “And you had a good game.” Rye hadn’t missed a kick, even converting a fifty-four yard field goal. If anyone tried to pin this loss on Rye, they were crazy. Still, Cutter realized his words were mainly platitudes and were unlikely to make Rye feel any better.

“Thanks.” Rye shifted his duffle bag from one hand to the other. “Addison’s worried about his ankle.”

“Then he needs to come see me or one of the other trainers. We’ll get him fixed up.” He’d treated the team’s quarterback before and they got along well.

“It’s not so much that, but maybe losing his starting gig,” Rye said. “It was a tough loss.” His eyes met Cutter’s. “Sorry if you thought I was avoiding you.”

Cutter was quick to shake his head. “It’s fine. You’re not obligated to spend time with me,” he said. “I did want to say a quick hi, though, and that’s why I called after you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“Are you going straight home?”

Rye hesitated, appearing to think about it, and it gave Cutter a glimmer of hope that he would say no, and suggest they go get a drink together somewhere, or better yet, go back to Cutter’s house and... no. He wasn’t going to let his mind go there, as much as he wanted it to.

“Yeah,” Rye said. “I mean I probably should. It’s late. I’m tired. It was a long flight.”

“Right.” Cutter tried to quell his disappointment and his frustration. If Rye and Kristen weren’t truly together anymore—even if they were still living under the same roof—then what did Rye have to rush home to? He wanted to believe it was simply because Rye was tired, and not because things were better with Kristen and he wanted to hurry home to be with her. “I get it. I heard some of the gang say they might swing by Hand Wing and grab a pint, but I think I’ll head home, too.”

It was said with the hope that he might change his friend’s mind and Rye would suggest they go get a beer after all, but Rye merely nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Guess so.” Rye turned around, unlocking his truck. “Wait, Rye.”

The kicker paused with his hand on the door and turned around. “Hmm?”

He looked impossibly handsome, standing in the dark, but his near perfect features illuminated by the moonlight and the light of the parking lot. It might be a bad idea. He might live to regret it, but Cutter threw caution to the wind and leaned in and brushed his lips across Rye’s.

He wondered if Rye might push him away, but he didn’t. Not right away. Instead, he let the kiss linger, even parted his lips to respond before ultimately pulling away. “What was that for?” The words came out in a breathless whisper.

“That was just because I wanted to. Goodnight, Rye.”