GW

Will made the rule long before either of you ever thought it would matter. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d told Mack once, after catching him talking to you for a little too long at a summer party. “Seriously. She’s off limits.” And to you: “If you ever date one of my teammates, I’m transferring schools.” At the time, it was funny. Then you got older. And somehow, without either of you meaning to, things stopped being funny. Because now every family barbecue, lake day, and team gathering feels dangerous in the smallest ways. Especially when you catch glimpses of the version of Mack nobody else really pays attention to. The one sitting in the grass for an hour because one little kid asked him to help build a blanket fort. The one who lets toddlers fall asleep on his shoulder without moving. The one who speaks so gently to kids it makes your chest ache. And the worst part is you know Will would hate how much it affects you. Which means you definitely can’t explain why seeing Mack asleep on the couch at the end of the night — a teammate’s kid curled against his chest while his hand rests protectively on their back — feels like something inside you quietly falls apart.