The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 46: Chapter 46 - Locked in

Zac sat on the nurse’s cot with an ice pack pressed to his shoulder. His practice jersey was dirty and clung to his skin. His hair was still damp from sweat.

”Roxie?” he said, the word coming out rough and surprised, like he had expected anyone else in the world but her.

A small split marked the corner of his mouth, and his face was turned toward the window as if he had been glaring at the parking lot for the last ten minutes and losing the argument with himself.

Roxie grabbed the handle and pulled. It opened an inch, then slammed back shut.

”Mason.”

From the other side, Mason’s voice came through, too pleased with himself. ”Five minutes.”

”Mason,” Roxie snapped.

His voice turned louder. ”You two need to talk before he ruins the game tomorrow.”

Roxie’s anger flared. ”Are you insane?”

”Probably,” Mason replied. ”But I’m also right.”

Zac pushed himself up from the cot, jaw tight. ”Mason, what the hell are you doing?”

”What I should’ve done Monday,” Mason shot back. ”You’ve been acting like a lunatic all week.”

”I said open the door.”

”No. You can yell at me after you talk to her.”

Roxie yanked the handle again. ”You dragged me here.”

”He really got hit,” Mason said quickly. ”Shoulder’s messed up. That part is real.”

Zac’s face darkened. ”Mason.”

Mason’s voice came through the door, sharp and fed up. ”You want the truth? He’s been useless all week.”

Zac stepped toward the door. ”Mason, shut up.”

”Nah, I’m done,” Mason snapped. ”First, we had to tell him to stop staring at you during games because every time you moved on the sidelines, he forgot he was supposed to be our quarterback.”

Roxie’s face burned.

Her hand stayed on the handle.

Zac’s jaw tightened. ”I said shut up.”

”And now,” Mason went on, ignoring him completely. ”Didn’t talk to you. Acted like you weren’t there. And guess what? That was worse. He was pissed the whole time. Snapping at everyone. Missing easy reads. Acting like an idiot.”

Roxie’s grip loosened on the handle.

So that was why.

That was why Zac had barely looked at her during the Eagles game.

But he had been trying not to look.

And somehow, that felt worse.

Mason hit the door once with his palm. ”So looking at you makes him stupid. Avoiding you makes him stupid. Not talking to you makes him a nightmare. I don’t care what you two call that, but I’m tired of getting yelled at by Coach because Prescott can’t function like a normal person.”

”Mason,” Zac said, voice low and furious.

”What?” Mason shot back. ”Am I lying?”

Zac said nothing.

The silence answered for him.

Roxie turned slowly.

Zac looked like he wanted to break the door, the wall, and Mason’s face in that exact order.

Mason kept going. ”This week you two barely talk and he’s even worse. I don’t care which one of you fixes it, but someone better do it before tomorrow because we need our quarterback to remember he has a team.”

Roxie turned her head slowly toward Zac. His ears had gone red. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, and he looked seconds away from breaking the door with his injured shoulder just to get to Mason.

She should have felt satisfied. She did not. Her chest felt tight and strange for reasons she did not want to examine.

”I am not your team therapist,” she shouted at the door.

Mason did not miss a beat. ”No, you’re worse. You’re the problem and the solution.”

Zac looked ready to explode. ”Mason.”

”Five minutes,” Mason called. ”Don’t break anything. The nurse already hates us.”

His footsteps hurried away down the hall.

The nurse’s office fell quiet. Too quiet. Roxie let go of the handle and turned around.

Zac stood there staring at the door, one hand curled into a fist at his side, the ice pack forgotten near his feet. His shoulder sat a little lower than usual, the bruise already starting to show.

Roxie pointed at him. ”This is your fault.”

His head snapped toward her. ”My fault?”

”Yes.”

”I didn’t know he was doing that.”

”You expect me to believe that?”

”Yes,” he said, irritation clear in his voice. ”Because if I wanted to trap you in a room, I would not choose one that smells like rubbing alcohol and school-issued sadness.”

Roxie crossed her arms. She hated that a laugh almost escaped.

”Your friends are insane.”

”They are not my friends right now.”

”They locked me in a nurse’s office.”

”I am also locked in the nurse’s office.”

”You are the reason I’m here.”

”I got hit,” he said, pointing at his shoulder. ”That part is real.”

Roxie’s eyes dropped before she could stop them. His jersey had pulled wide at the collar, revealing the start of a dark bruise near his collarbone. The skin looked angry and tight.

”How bad is it?” she asked.

Zac followed her gaze, as if he had forgotten about the injury. ”It’s fine.”

”That means nothing.”

”I’ll play tomorrow.”

”Huh.” She pointed at the ice pack. ”Put that back.”

He stared at her.

”Unless you want Coach to bench you for being stupid and swollen,” she added.

Zac picked up the ice pack and pressed it to his shoulder again, moving carefully. The silence returned, heavier this time.

Zac cleared his throat. ”How are you?”

Roxie flinched. The simple question hit too hard. Right now, she was completely fucked. The Homecoming nomination, the New York lie, the dress she could not afford, Claire’s empty promises, Kendall’s suspicion. Everything was closing in and she had no idea how to hold it together.

”Fine,” she said.

Zac waited, watching her. When she offered nothing else, he shifted the ice pack. ”You sure?”

Roxie looked away first.

The nurse’s office had three pens in a plastic cup, a box of gloves, a stack of late passes, and a poster about hydration that felt weirdly judgmental. Anything was better than looking at him right now.

Zac shifted the ice pack against his shoulder. ”Something happened.”

”No.”

”Roxie.”

She hated the way he said her name. Like he was trying to be careful with it.

Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag.

Homecoming flashed through her head again. The board. Her name. Kendall’s raised eyebrow. Angela asking for pictures from New York. The dress she did not have. The money Claire had spent.

She laughed under her breath before the feeling could crawl up her throat.

”Want to be my sugar daddy?”

Zac froze.

Then he laughed, low and surprised. ”Damn. That’s where we are?”

”It was a joke.”

”Was it?”

”Yes.”

His smile lingered, but his eyes stayed on her face. ”What do you need money for?”

Roxie’s stomach dropped.

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in the chair like she had not just opened the wrong door in her own head. ”Relax, Prescott. I’m not actually accepting applications.”

He gave her a look. ”You think you’re funny?”

”I know I am.”

”You’re something.”

”Careful. Compliments make me worse.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, then he winced because of his split lip.

The joke should have helped.

It did, for about three seconds.

Then Zac’s expression shifted again, quieter now. He was still watching her, still trying to figure out what she was hiding, and Roxie hated how badly part of her wanted to tell him.

She stood up before that part got louder.

”Mason can open the door now.”

Zac did not move from the cot. ”You don’t have to tell me.”

Roxie’s hand hovered near the doorknob.

He was giving her space again.

That was the problem with Zac lately. When he pushed, she could fight him. When he stopped pushing, she did not know where to put all the anger.

From the hallway, Mason’s voice came through the door. ”Are you both alive?”

Roxie shut her eyes. ”I’m going to kill him.”

Zac looked toward the door. ”I’ll do the honor.”

The lock clicked.

The door opened a few inches, and Mason’s face appeared in the gap. His grin died the second Roxie looked at him.

”Hostile,” he said carefully.

”You locked me in a nurse’s office.”

”With an injured quarterback,” Mason said. ”That’s practically community service.”

Zac’s voice sharpened. ”Mason.”

Mason lifted both hands. ”Okay, okay. Door is open. Nobody died. Progress.”

Roxie grabbed her bag from the floor and stepped toward the hallway.

Then Mason’s eyes flicked past her. His whole face changed.

”Oh, crap.”

Roxie froze. ”What?”

Mason shoved the door wider and stepped in fast, lowering his voice. ”Nurse is coming.”

Shit. If this became a rumor she was finished.

Mason moved quickly. He pulled the privacy curtain around Zac’s bed in one sharp motion.

Roxie had no time to think. She ducked behind the curtain, stumbled into the cot, and shoved Zac back by instinct.

He caught her before she fell, one hand at her waist, the other gripping the edge of the cot.

Somehow, she ended up half over him, one knee pressed into the mattress and one hand flat against his chest.

”He’s still resting,” Mason called loudly. ”Coach said I should wait with him.”

The thin curtain settled around them.

Roxie was suddenly eye to eye with Zac. Their faces were inches apart. His hands hovered at her waist, steadying her. His gaze dropped slowly to her mouth.

Roxie blushed hard. Heat flooded her cheeks as she froze on top of him. She could feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart under her palm, the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Footsteps came closer down the hall.

She did not dare move. Neither did he. The air between them felt thick and dangerous as the footsteps grew louder.