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The scent of something amazing filled Ryan's kitchen. Xavier sniffed in appreciation. "You are feeding us whatever that is, right?"
"Sure. The chili and cornbread need a while yet, but I figured you guys would want to stay for dinner." Ryan rolled his head from side to side. "Work was brutal today. I'm so glad we hired another manager to help out with the load, but sometimes, utter chaos still reigns at the gym. Grab a beer and have a seat."
After making sure Rocky was occupied with a toy and treat, Xavier complied. Ryan's kitchen was one of his favorite places to hang out. So many good memories had happened around that table. They'd met Leo's wife Kelsey for the first time there. And the first time Everson had joined them for family dinner, Xavier knew that Ryan had fallen hard for the man.
Shane and Everson joined them, and then Ryan set two stacks of index cards on the table. "Baking terms and definitions. With illustrations."
"You made us flash cards?" Impressed and touched and not entirely surprised, Xavier reached for the pile closest to him. "Will there be a quiz later?"
"Not tonight. But a pop quiz could happen any time between now and the competition. So, be prepared."
He studied the cards. Folding in... how to measure flour... how to separate eggs... Card after card of Ryan's Notes For Non-Bakers offered tips and tricks and explanations. "This is so freaking nice of you."
"Well, I want one of you to win." Ryan leaned on the back of Everson's chair. "So either your foundation can donate to breast cancer research or Everson can donate the money to the LGBTQ homeless shelter we support."
Everson reached back and laid his hand on top of Ryan's. "You're the best."
"And by the best, you mean overly organized." Ryan rolled his eyes and smiled. "I can't help it. I got excited. I feel like I'm your coach teaching you a new playbook."
Ryan was so together. Xavier hadn't been nearly as poised at that age. Back then, excitement and enjoyment had ruled. Thank goodness he'd come to his senses, even if the catalyst had been waking up in the stadium parking lot without having any clue how he got there, on a game day, dangerously close to having alcohol poisoning.
He took a long pull on the bottle, trying to wash away the memory.
"Not only that." Ryan placed a white and green box on the table's center and flipped open the lid. "Mom's recipes."
"I'd forgotten you had them." Memories of that box, of Mom, of sitting at the kitchen table while she baked hit him harder than a linebacker intent on taking him down.
Shane handed him a card he'd plucked from the box. "I remember the day she found you coloring on the backs of some of the cards. You told her you were writing recipes. I think you were four."
Sure enough, the card had green crayon scribbled all over his mother's careful script. Tears stung Xavier's eyes. "She never wrote out a new card to replace it."
Ryan rounded the table and laid a gentle hand on his back. "You should keep that one."
He sniffed once, swallowed until the threat of tears receded, and then tucked the card in his pocket. "Maybe I'll carry it with me for good luck during the competition."
"You should," Shane tugged the box forward and rifled through it. "Since next Sunday is Mother's Day, maybe we find something in here to make for dinner. I think Mom would have liked that."
Ryan tugged the box back, straightening the ruffled cards. "Take some pics of the cards and text them to Leo. He should get to weigh in."
"He's coming home?" Xavier was surprised and pleased. Their pro hockey playing brother's team had just been eliminated from the second round of the Cup playoffs, but with the injuries sustained and treatments required, he hadn't expected to see Leo for at least another few weeks.
"Just for a few days, to get a second opinion on one form of therapy. Then he's going back to Buffalo, but he'll be home again for Dad's birthday. With his and Kelsey's schedules, they'll be going back and forth between both cities for a while this summer."
"I was hoping he'd be here the day I have to go up to New York to co-host Pro Football Daily. He and Kelsey—mainly Kelsey—have been giving me tips on posture and body language. I wouldn't mind if they went up with me, for last-minute advice."
Shane sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're really putting a lot of pressure on yourself with that gig."
"It needs to go well. I had to call in a few favors to even get it. This isn't a quick segment or phone interview. It's co-hosting for the whole hour. If I want to go into broadcasting after my playing days are behind me, this will help me get there. I need to show the network what I can do."
Everson looked up from his set of baking cards. "What day are you going up?"
"It's a few days before the competition starts. I called Mr. Mills earlier today, told him when I'd be on and said I'd promote the competition too. He conferenced his daughter in on the call. Within five minutes, she sent me an email with talking points. Now I feel like Food TV, The Frenzy, and my foundation are all depending on me to do well too."
"Don't let it get to you." Shane's advice cut through the tension buzzing in Xavier's brain. "Everything you've got lined up takes practice. And you've got Ryan to help you with the baking, and Leo and Kelsey to help with the hosting and broadcast stuff. So, don't worry."
Don't worry? Easier said than done.
Xavier shuffled through the cards again. Inspiration struck, and he took a few photos of the flashcards. Then, he sent a text to Ashley with the pictures and captioned them Being a good student here.
Seconds later, her response appeared.
Ashley: Oh, I like what I'm seeing. Flash cards are genius.
She sent a row of smiling emojis.
Grinning, Xavier responded: I'll tell my brother you said that. He made them.
He wasn't quite ready to leave it at that. We're looking at some of my mom's recipes too.
Ashley: I'd love to see them. Can you bring some with you when we have our first baking together try-out?
He responded with a thumbs up emoji.
Shane's fist rapped on the table, right by Xavier's hands. "What's making you smile so big?"
"Nothing. Just... Ashley." He'd thought of her every day since that coffee date. "We went for coffee at Mario's place the other day. He wasn't there then. But he called me yesterday. He wants to open a second location."
Smirking, Shane shook his head. "And let me guess, he wants you to help out with funding it."
Xavier picked at the label on his beer. Helping his childhood friend achieve his dream of opening his own café had been a pleasure. He hadn't minded paying for the visa so he could go to Italy to study Italian desserts either. But then and now were two different times. In more ways than one. "I told him I couldn't. The conversation got pretty quiet and ended pretty fast after that."
"The way these people come out of nowhere only when they want something is bullshit. You're not a damned money tree. You gave and gave and gave and gave, and now it's time to look out for yourself."
"I still feel bad turning people down."
"I get it. But you went above and beyond for a long time, to your own detriment."
Some people incorrectly assumed that all pro athletes were multi-millionaires. He'd been an average player for his first few years in the league. A late bloomer, as some coaches would say. He'd made a good amount of money but not the type of bank that came with a huge contract. Then, after he'd smartened up and straightened up, he'd put together a few Pro-Bowl worthy seasons, and that big contract had come.
Requests for money had come too. So many requests. He'd generously and perhaps stupidly helped out almost everyone who had asked. Since he'd had the opportunity to live his dream, he wanted to give that to other people too. But now, with what was likely his last contract, he'd become super careful about money. Life after football was looming pretty close.
But not as close as that competition.
"Ashley and I agreed that I'd shadow her at the bakery."
Shane's brows rose, and his lips twitched. "Thinking of taking up a new career?"
"No. I want to win this thing." He glanced across the table and groaned at his slip-up.
Everson sat, his hand wrapped around a long neck bottle, and brows raised in interest. "Are you? That's not a bad idea. Not bad at all."
Damn it. Xavier pushed the bottle away, disgusted with himself. "It was a great idea. So great that I'd wanted to keep it quiet from the rest of the competitors."
"Well, I'm running that football camp for queer youth for the next two weeks, but even if I wasn't, I don't think my bakery partner wants to do something like that. We agreed to do a couple of trial runs the week before the competition."
Relief swelled fast, almost giving him a buzz. "Good."
Everson smiled and wrapped his arm around Ryan's shoulder. "You forget that I have twenty-four-seven access to my secret weapon."
Ryan looked between the two of them. "I'm helping both of you."
"But really me, though, right?" Everson's voice oozed charm and persuasion.
Xavier snorted and shook his head. "No way, dude. Family first."
Eyes twinkling, Everson lifted one auburn brow in challenge. "Fiancés first."
At those words, Ryan's smile spread, lighting the room like a sunbeam. He turned to gaze at Everson. "I'll never get tired of hearing that word."
"I can't wait until it changes to husband," Everson said.
As they stared at each other, lost in their own world of love and happiness, Xavier felt like he was intruding by watching the moment. He quietly pushed back his chair and padded out of the room.
Shane followed him. "You like her."
Xavier closed his eyes for a moment. "We have to work together. It doesn't matter if I like her."
"How long has it been since you've let yourself have fun?"
"I've let myself had too much fun, remember?"
"So... what? You're going to give yourself a permanent penalty for making some poor decisions years ago?"
He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and puffed up his chest. "No, but I need to be careful."
"You need to still enjoy your life."
"I do."
Shane didn't look convinced. "I mean, outside of family and outside of football."
Xavier crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "I don't see you doing much of that either."
Shane's features slid into an I know what you're doing and I'm not rising to the bait smirk. "We're not talking about me here."
"Let's do that instead. That's more fun."
Shane dropped to the couch and took a pull from his beer. "I know you're worried about people taking advantage of you and disappointing you. But you should still let people in."
"My life is fine the way it is."
"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
