Where Gabe was the straight shooter when it came to his younger brothers, Jake had often been Danny’s partner in crime and would always support him, even to the extent of not seeing his flaws. As for Sailor, he was the more analytical one when it came to the game. Which he proved now.

“I watched your last four games while you were away,” he said. “What I’m seeing is that while you’re making all the right moves in the technical sense, you’re no longer pulling out those unexpected passes and runs that got you this far.”

“Something’s knocked your confidence,” Gabe said, his tone quiet but his attention intense. “You gonna tell us what?”

Danny shrugged, his hands tight around his coffee mug. “I don’t know. Honestly.” No way was he going to spill out his confusion; not to these three men who had always, always been there for him. They didn’t deserve to feel even a tiny bit of guilt for being who they were—which was simply awesome.

“Here’s the good news,” Sailor said, leaning forward. “If you’re going to play technical rugby, we can come up with multiple moves you can add to your repertoire that will look like magic on the field. We keep doing that until we get to the bottom of this.”

Danny rubbed his face. “I seriously don’t know if I’ll get a chance to play. Coach really hasn’t been happy with me recently.”

“Then we prep for the day when you do get called up.” Gabe echoed Sailor’s position. “And Dan, you know you can talk to any of us, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

But when his brothers left an hour later, having made plans to meet with him early that evening to go over a number of new plays that might bridge his rough patch, it was Catie he called.

“Oh hello, Mr. Chicken Poop,” she said sweetly. “You turned off your phone.”

“Maybe I had a hot date and didn’t want to be interrupted.”

Her snort made him grin. “We should probably go out and be seen,” he said, his gut tense with how much he wanted that. “I dunno, post another photo or something.”

“I was going for a run on the track. Need to stretch out for a bit. You wanna come with?”

The tension vanished like magic. “Yeah.”

They’d decided to meet at the outdoor track, and Catie beat him there. She was warming up when he arrived, her blades sleek curves of silver. A lot of sprinters preferred black, but Catie was Catie. Her previous blades had been cheetah print. There was a reason she had all those endorsement deals. The best thing about it all was that Catie hadn’t calculated that response—she’d just wanted cheetah blades, and now blades of lightning silver.