I could tell that Owen was devastated, but he did his best to hide it. I knew that I shouldn’t push, or at least I had learned my lesson when it came to that strange man.

Questions still lingered, but I wasn’t going to let myself get hung up on them. Something was happening with that man, that much was clear, but Owen wasn’t sharing. If he wanted to keep it private, then I had to respect that.

We had other things to worry about. On Wednesday, I was ordered to work extra sessions with Owen in the hopes that we could get him ready for the next game. He was definitely sitting for the upcoming match, but it was a less important game against a team that was traditionally pretty bad.

The following game, though, was against our division rivals, the Dallas Cowboys. Coach wanted Owen ready for that game, and my rehab regimen was a big part of that preparation.

That was how I found myself working late with Owen. I sat on the rim of the hot tub as he soaked himself, my back up against the wall. It was warm, and I was sweating slightly under my work clothes, but I didn’t mind.

“What’s your favorite movie?” I asked him.

“Scarface,” he said.

I laughed. “Really? What a typical boy answer.”

He grinned at me. “I also love The Green Mile.”

“That’s a good one.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“I don’t know. The Goonies, maybe.”

“Great film. I used to want to be Chunk.”

“Really? They make fun of him the whole time.”

“Yeah, but he’s the real hero. He bears all that silently and then helps save the day when he befriends Sloth.”

“Good point.” I kicked my shoes off and stripped off my socks before dipping my feet into the tub.

“First CD you ever owned?” he asked.

“Jagged Little Pill by Alanis Morissette.”

“You were a cool kid.”

“What can I say? I’ve always been awesome. What about you?”

“Big Willie Style.”

I laughed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Will Smith was an idol of mine back in the day.”

“I can see that.”

“Oh can you? It’s because I have such a clean mouth.”

“Not exactly.”

“That’s what he was famous for, at least. He didn’t need to curse to make music.”

“You curse plenty, though.”

“Good fucking point.”

I smiled at him. “Look at you now, living in Philadelphia, just like Will Smith did.”

“Sort of. He grew up rich, I think. Went to prep school.”

“You’re not exactly poor yourself.”

“Didn’t always used to be this way.”

I nodded. “Good point.”

“What about you? Grew up normal and middle class?”

“Pretty much. I didn’t have an exciting childhood like you did.”

“You’re lucky then. There’s nothing fun about growing up the hard way.”

“Do you ever wish things were different?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I guess I mean if your parents were like mine, maybe you wouldn’t have had the drive to succeed like you did.”

“Good point. I had to work hard early on to get anything in my life.”

“If you grew up like I did, maybe things would be different.”

“Maybe. But you had opportunity. You had comfort. I’d trade all this for a comfortable childhood.” He shook his head. “You have no clue how hard it can be.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

“You’re not. Don’t worry. The media can be worse.”

“Really?”

“Sure. They love to ask hard questions about my parents and about the way I grew up. One guy even suggested that my grandmother was unfit to raise me.”

“What an asshole.”

“He just wanted to get a rise out of me.” Owen smiled and shrugged. “It’s what they do.”

“Must be weird, being famous.”

“You saw a little bit of it. But I’m not that famous, not really.”

“Not yet at least. You’re going to be a superstar.”

“Maybe, if my knee doesn’t fall apart first.”

“It won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Well, you have a little more than a week to put me back together. Think you’re up to it?”

“I think so.”

“And how are you going to pull it off?”

I shook my head. “I have no clue.”

He laughed. “That’s really comforting.”

I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was half past six in the evening, and the place was already emptied out. I wanted to get one more stretch in before we called it a night, but there was just something so comfortable and relaxing about sitting around and chatting.

It always felt good when things were easy with Owen. There were times when we worked in strained silence, but mostly we chatted and laughed. I had to admit that I looked forward to coming into work just on the off chance that things would be great between us. My days were easy and good when that happened.

“Hey,” he said, “get in here.”

“What? No! I can’t.”

“You have before.”

“People are still here.”

“So?” He reached up for me.

“Owen!”

It was too late. He grabbed my hips and dragged me down into the water with him, laughing. I was instantly soaking wet, and fortunately I left my cell phone at my desk. My clothes were drenched as he grabbed me and pulled me toward him.

I laughed along with him and playfully splashed him. He grinned and pulled my body against his, and I felt my heart begin to race in my chest. I knew I should stop this, but I couldn’t.

He kissed me hard, and I kissed him back. I was kissing the guy who bought a Will Smith CD when he was just a little kid, not Owen Rack the superstar. I kissed the guy who made me smile and laugh, and who made my body feel incredible. I didn’t care about anything else.

Just as I began to press myself harder against him, my hips rolling along his leg, his phone began to ring. I kissed him softly on the mouth. “Get it,” I said.

“Fuck that.”

“What if it’s the coach?”

He frowned. “It’s probably not.”

“Get it.”

He moved me off him and sighed. He stood up, and I smiled when I noted that his cock was hard and straining against his shorts. He walked across the room and grabbed his phone from the chair.

He opened it. “What?” There was a short pause, and he looked at me. “I need to take this,” he said, and then walked into the other room.

He had that look on his face. It was the same look he’d had when that guy appeared after the game the other day. I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew it wasn’t good.

I couldn’t help myself. I moved out of the tub and softly padded across the room. I could just barely hear what he was saying.

“. . . not going to play,” he said. “What do you mean, you don’t care? I’m not betting on a game I’m not even a part of. No, that’s not better.” He sounded angry, strained. “Fuck off, Tony. I don’t want to be a part of this.”

There was a long pause.

Finally, he spoke again. “Five grand again,” he said, “on the Eagles to win.” Another short pause. “Fine.”

I heard him hang the phone up, and I stepped back. He stepped into the room and saw me standing there, staring at him.

“How much did you hear?” he asked.

“You’re betting?”

He sighed. “It’s not what you think.”

“Explain, because I’m pretty sure it sounded like you just placed a bet on your own team.”

“That was the guy from the other day. He works for the mafia, and they have me by the balls. They force me to make bets to keep me entangled with their organization so that they can extort me one day down the road.”

I stared at him, at a total loss for words.

“That’s insane,” I finally managed to say. “You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth,” he said. “I took a loan from them back when I was just getting into college. I needed money, and they were the only people I knew who would give it to me.”

“Banks do loans,” I said stupidly.

“Not to fucking kids like me. I took their money, and then I got good at playing ball. They haven’t left me alone since.”

“The mafia,” I said, trying to wrap my head around it.

“I don’t want anything to do with them, but I don’t have any other choice. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you.”

“You’re being extorted by the actual mafia.” I took a step back, away from him, and then turned to grab a towel. He stepped toward me, and I flinched.

“Taylor,” he said, “nothing is different. I want out.”

“I can’t handle this,” I said. “You’re being extorted by the mafia, or at least that’s your excuse. All I know is you just made a big bet on this weekend’s game.”

“You don’t believe me?” He looked hurt.

“I don’t know what I believe right now. I think we should call it a night.”

I quickly walked past him.

“Taylor,” he said.

But I didn’t turn around. I just kept walking, despite my soaking wet clothes. I had to get out of there and away from him.

I never thought I’d be afraid of Owen. Just five minutes earlier, I had been about to give myself to him again, and I couldn’t have been happier.

But now things were different. What I had heard I couldn’t just be overlook. I couldn’t forget about that. And he had told me that he was involved with the mafia, which was just insane. I didn’t know if he was a liar or, worse, if he was telling the truth.

All I knew was that I needed to get away from him, at least for the night.

I walked fast, and I didn’t look back.