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burned a hole in his gut, but Torrian knew he wasn’t ready to give up his career just yet. What was he, if not a ballplayer? He’d been nothing before football. He’d be nothing without it. He couldn’t give it up. The hiding, the lying, the guilt—they would have to continue.
    He clenched his eyes shut and pushed the bar up from his chest. The weight suddenly eased. He opened his eyes to find Theo directly above, both hands wrapped around the bar.
    “You can stop stalling,” Theo said as he lifted the bar and settled it on its holder. “Doc got called away.”
    Relief washed over Torrian. He prayed it didn’t show on his face. “What’s that got to do with anything?” he asked, sitting up and wiping sweat from his brow.
    “Cut the crap, Wood,” Theo said. “You know you’re scared as hell something showed up on the mid-season physical. Don’t worry about it. If they found anything serious, they would have called you in.”
    Torrian rested his elbows on his thighs and hung his head so low his chin touched his chest. “I hate this.”
    “I know,” his teammate said, understanding saturating his words. “Just remember it’s not the end of the world,” Theo reminded him. “Nobody plays this game forever.”
    “A part of me knows that,” Torrian said. “But the other part doesn’t want to give up playing ball. This game is my life.”
    “That’s bull. You’ve got a family. They are your life.”
    “You’re right.” Torrian sighed. “My main concern is taking care of Deirdre and Dante.” He cut his eyes at Theo. “I hate when you start making sense.”
    Theo returned his grin, then asked, “Speaking of your sister, is she seeing anyone?”
    Torrian’s head whipped around. “What?”
    “You heard me,” Theo said. He raised his arms up and hooked them around the weight machine’s handlebars.
    “How long have you been checking out my sister?”
    “Long enough,” Theo said. “Why do you sound so shocked?”
    “You gotta admit Deirdre’s not the type of woman you usually have on your arm.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Theo asked with an affronted growl.
    “Don’t try to play me. Your typical woman is five-nine, a hundred pounds, and twenty-three years old, everything Deirdre is not.”
    “Stop making me sound so shallow, Wood. Besides, I’m getting tired of my typical woman. I’d rather spend time with someone who can hold a conversation that doesn’t pertain to shopping or watching America’s Next Top Model .”
    “Dee’s got a lot on her plate these days, but what can I say?” Torrian shrugged. “Go for it, man. But I’m warning you, if you hurt her, I’m coming after your ass.”
    “I won’t hurt her. I just want to get to know her better.”
    Cedric Reeves came into the weight room, one towel slung around his shoulders and another riding low on his hips.
    “Hey, Wood, you pissed Paige Turner off something fierce, man. Did you read her latest response on the blog?”
    Torrian’s chest tightened. “Don’t tell me she posted again.”
    “Oh yeah, and it ain’t pretty.” Cedric grinned as he headed toward the showers.
    Torrian groaned and fell back on the weight bench, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d e-mailed three times since Sunday, damn near begging Paige to cut out this tit-for-tat thing they had going on her blog, but she’d ignored every one of them, choosing to keep everything out in the open.
    Torrian had considered being the bigger man and apologizing, but this fight had become personal. After reading some of her past reviews, Torrian noticed a pattern. Paige Turner had it out for the rich. She occasionally had a kind word for an upcoming Broadway star’s performance, or a mom-and-pop deli trying to keep its head above water in New York’s saturated restaurant industry, but the positive reviews were few and far between, and virtually nonexistent for celebrity types.
    He dragged his hands over his