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"You wouldn't have to ask. It would just happen." She pulled on her jeans, and I watched her get ready to leave, and it felt frighteningly like watching my heart walk out the door. "Because if we're dating in secret, then I can't tell anyone who isn't a close friend. Can't post about you. Can't hold your hand in public. Can't be your date to the team gala. Can't tell my brother who I'm seeing. I'd be your secret, and I promised myself I'd never be anyone's secret."

"Harper."

"And I can't do that. Not even for someone who makes me come so hard I see stars. Not even for someone who drives me crazy in all the best ways. Not even for you."

She found the Fangs jersey and pulled it over her head. JACKSON 22 settled across her shoulders. I had the sudden, violent urge to strip it off her and put her in a RUSSO 4, to send her out into the morning with my name on her back where everyone could see it.

I couldn't even do that. My name on her back would be the end of all I'd been protecting.

The collar of the jersey didn't cover the bruise on her throat. I'd put it there. I'd put it there two hours ago with her pulse jumping under my palm, while she told me she was mine. She would walk into Reliant Insurance on Monday with my mouth all over her neck, and people would look, and she'd make a joke about it, and nobody would ever know it was me.

Because she knew I was still in the closet, and she’d never betray me like that.

"Not even for me," I repeated, and the words were an icepick to my chest.

She stared back at me with glistening eyes. "Not even for the woman who I'm pretty sure I could fall in love with if we had the chance."

The words hung in the air between us, too honest and too painful.

"I could fall in love with you too," I admitted quietly.

"I know." She sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. "That's what makes this so hard. Because last night wasn't just sex, was it?"

I swallowed thickly. "No."

"It was a connection. A real connection. The kind where I could be completely myself and you could be completely yourself and we fit together perfectly." Tears threatened to fall, and I could see them, and it tore me up inside. "You let me see the real you. You let yourself be dominant and careful and tender, all at the same time. It was..."

"Perfect," I finished.

"Yeah. It was perfect." A tear slipped down her cheek. "And it's not enough. Because you're not ready to be out, and I can't go back to hiding. And neither of those is wrong, Cam. Your timeline is yours. You get to decide when and how you come out, if you come out at all. That's your choice."

"But you can't wait for me."

"I can't be with you while you're closeted. Even if I wanted to." She squeezed my hand. "Because I won't be the reason you're forced out. I won't be the reason some photographer catches us together and suddenly you're outed before you're ready. I won't put that pressure on you."

"So we're done?"

"We never really started. We had one perfect night. And now, we have to let it be what it was." She stood and started looking for her shoes. "I need you to know I don't regret any of it. Not one second. You gave me what I didn't know I could have. Made me feel safe enough to completely let go. Made me feel..." Her voice cracked. "Made me feel all of it."

"Harper, please."

"Don't." Her voice stayed gentle. "Don't make this harder by asking me to change my mind. You know what I need. You know you can't give it to me right now. And that's okay. It doesn't make you a bad person. It just makes us wrong for each other right now."

She finished with her shoes. I got up and pulled on a T-shirt and sweats and followed her down the hall, past the kitchen, back to the entryway where she'd kissed me against the door seven hours ago.

She stopped with her hand on the knob.

"Don't walk me out," she said.

"Harper..."

"Someone could see." She didn't look at me when she said it. "A neighbor. A lady walking her dog. A guy with a camera. The SHAU4’s already waiting at the curb. Don't walk me out, Cam."

She was protecting me. She was standing in my doorway in another woman's jersey with my teeth marks on her neck, crying, and she was still protecting me.

I stood there and let her.

"Take care of yourself," she said. "Eat actual meals. Sleep more than four hours. Stop training so hard that your body can't recover."