Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Completely Sober

Tuesday evening in the athletic dorms was usually completely dead. The team was typically exhausted from afternoon training, choosing to collapse into their beds or blindly stare at their gaming consoles.

Leo walked into his room, balancing a textbook in one hand and a bag of chips in the other.

He stopped in the doorway.

Mason was standing in front of the mirror. He was not wearing his gray sweatpants. He had showered, fixed his hair, and was currently pulling his dark jacket over his shoulders.

Leo slowly lowered the bag of chips.

"Captain?" Leo asked.

Mason didn’t turn around. He adjusted his collar. "Hm?"

"Where are you going?"

"The pub," Mason said completely casually.

Leo frowned. He looked at the digital clock on his desk. It read 8:15 PM.

"...It’s Tuesday," Leo pointed out.

"Yeah," Mason agreed, grabbing his wallet off the dresser.

Leo stared at him. Mason Calloway did not go to the pub on a Tuesday. He barely went on a Saturday. He was a strict, terrifying enforcer of the team’s curfew and hydration rules.

"What are you doing at the pub on a Tuesday?" Leo asked, his voice laced with deep suspicion.

Mason shoved his wallet into his back pocket. He turned around, looking completely, utterly serious.

...Research," Mason said.

He walked past Leo and out the door.

Leo stood alone in the room for exactly three seconds.

"Oh, absolutely not," Leo muttered to himself, dropping his chips on the bed and sprinting after his captain.

---

The Rusty Boot was completely empty.

There were no celebrating football players. There was no loud music. It was just an old bartender wiping down the sticky counter and an ancient television playing a muted golf tournament in the corner.

Mason walked straight up to the bar and sat on a wooden stool.

Leo slid into the stool right next to him, breathing slightly heavy from practically jogging across campus to catch up.

"One pint, please," Mason told the bartender.

Leo narrowed his eyes. "Water for me. I am on active duty as a chaperone."

The bartender raised an eyebrow but poured the drinks and slid them across the counter. Mason stared at his full pint of beer. He didn’t drink it. He just stared at the golden liquid like it held the secrets of the universe.

Leo turned his stool entirely toward Mason. He crossed his arms.

"Alright," Leo demanded. "Spill. What exactly are we researching?"

Mason kept his eyes completely fixed on the glass. He tapped his finger against the condensation on the outside of the pint.

"I have a theory," Mason said slowly.

"A theory."

"Yes."

Leo sighed, rubbing his temples. "And what is this grand theory, Captain?"

Mason finally looked away from the beer. He looked at Leo. His expression was completely deadpan.

"I’m trying to figure out if I kissed Audrey because I was drunk."

Leo choked on his own saliva.

He violently coughed, his eyes going completely wide. He grabbed the edge of the bar counter to steady himself.

"...WHAT?" Leo hacked out, staring at Mason in pure bewilderment.

Mason didn’t flinch. He just looked mildly annoyed by the volume of Leo’s reaction.

"I kissed her," Mason repeated calmly. "On Saturday night. When you left me to walk home."

Leo blinked rapidly, trying to process the information. "...You kissed Audrey?"

"Yeah."

"...Your girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

Leo stared at him for a long, painful second. "And you’re trying to figure out whether alcohol made you kiss... your own girlfriend?"

Mason blinked. He looked down at the pint glass. "...When you say it like that..."

Mason reached for the glass.

Leo panicked.

He lunged forward, slapping his hand firmly over Mason’s mouth, while using his other hand to drag the pint glass safely out of reach.

"...Don’t," Leo whispered, completely exasperated.

---

Two minutes later, Leo physically dragged a very annoyed Mason Calloway out of the pub.

The cold Tuesday night air hit them immediately. Leo shoved Mason into the quiet brick alleyway beside the building, completely losing his mind.

"Captain!" Leo exploded, throwing his hands in the air.

"What?" Mason demanded, fixing his jacket.

"I’ve seen people kiss after one week of dating!" Leo yelled, pacing back and forth on the pavement. "You’ve been carrying her bags, remembering her favorite food, and staring at her like she’s the last person on earth! Why is the kiss the confusing part?!"

Mason stood against the brick wall. He couldn’t tell Leo the truth. He couldn’t say because we are faking it.

He looked away, his jaw tight.

"...Because it felt different," Mason finally said.

Leo stopped pacing. He frowned, completely confused. "...Different how?"

Mason hesitated. His dark eyes scanned the empty street.

"Intentional," Mason said quietly.

Leo just stared at him. "Captain, you’re dating her. It’s supposed to be intentional."

"It isn’t that simple," Mason argued, running a hand aggressively through his dark hair. The calm, cool captain persona was completely fracturing.

"Listen to me," Mason said, pacing a tight circle on the pavement. "Saturday night, I was drunk. My brain was foggy. I didn’t know what I was doing. Alcohol explains the kiss."

He stopped pacing. He looked at Leo. The frustration in his dark eyes was suddenly entirely replaced by a terrifying vulnerability.

"But yesterday," Mason said quietly. "Yesterday on the pitch."

"What happened yesterday?" Leo asked cautiously.

Mason swallowed hard. "I was sober. I was completely, entirely sober. I apologized to her for the kiss. She told me to never touch her without her permission."

"Good," Leo nodded. "That’s a healthy boundary."

"I agreed," Mason continued, his voice dropping lower. "But then... I looked at her. And I asked her."

Leo frowned. "Asked her what?"

Mason looked away, staring down the dark, empty street again.

"I asked her... if I ever asked for permission... would she let me."

Leo went completely, completely still.

The absolute weight of that sentence hit him. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t teasing.

Mason leaned back against the brick wall, letting his head hit the rough stone with a soft thud.

"That wasn’t the alcohol, Leo," Mason whispered into the quiet night. "That was me. I was completely sober, and I stood on that pitch, and I basically asked her if I could kiss her again."

He looked back at his best friend, his expression completely lost.

"I’m just a guy who doesn’t know what the hell is happening to his own brain," Mason said softly. "And I need to figure it out before I ruin everything."

Leo stood in the alleyway. He looked at the captain. He thought about Chloe. He thought about how terrifying it was when your heart started making decisions without consulting your logic.

He didn’t realize Mason was panicking because the relationship was fake. He just thought his best friend was terrified of falling in love.

Leo slowly walked over. He didn’t yell. He didn’t joke.

He just slapped a heavy, supportive hand onto Mason’s shoulder.

"Come on, Captain," Leo said quietly. "Let’s go home. You aren’t going to find the answer at the bottom of a pint glass. You’re going to find it by talking to your girlfriend."

Mason didn’t argue.

He just nodded once, shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, and let Leo lead him away from the pub, leaving the research completely unfinished.

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