Seeing Mahomes' face full of frustration, Lance couldn't help but tease, "Not even once?"
Mahomes' head shot up, looking at Lance with pure defeat in his eyes.
Lance didn't mind and even smiled. "You ever think maybe because it's never happened, that's exactly why—when those texts came—you hesitated?"
Mahomes blinked, lost, like he'd just been talked into a corner.
Lance had to explain. "It's like before people get married—they hesitate. Even though you can get divorced later, wouldn't it be better if marriage was once-and-for-life? When it's a major decision, you overthink it."
"You're the same."
"You decided Brittany was it, no other thoughts. But precisely because you've never looked at other possibilities, never seen other views… when temptation appeared, you wavered."
"Not that you were truly torn—you just couldn't help looking twice."
"So—"
"You need to tell Brittany the truth. Nothing happened. You've got nothing to hide."
The words were there, plain as day.
But Mahomes seemed to need time to process. He didn't snap out of it.
In Lance's memory, this was the first real fight between Mahomes and Brittany in the two years he'd known them.
Not surprising. Mahomes needed time to sort through the mess in his head.
In a way, relationships without arguments were more fragile—conflicts stayed hidden under the surface like icebergs. Calm waters didn't mean no danger; sometimes the perfect calm was just the prelude to an irreversible storm. The right kind of argument could break the tension early, letting problems get resolved bit by bit.
Mahomes exhaled long and hard. "Rookie, can you talk to Brittany for me? Tell her you and I are together every day, that you know I haven't stepped out of line."
"Of course," Lance agreed easily.
"But…"
"In Brittany's eyes, am I the good friend or the bad influence? Would she even believe me? Or does she think I'm the one corrupting you?"
Mahomes: "…Uh."
Lance shrugged. "If she needs me, I'll vouch for you anytime. Honestly, the whole team respects and admires your loyalty in love. We're all hoping you'll be the poster boy who proves not all pro athletes are womanizing playboys."
"Not everyone's like Travis."
Kelce: ??? Where did this stray bullet come from?
Mahomes thought it over, but his mind was still tangled. "Rookie, can I crash here for a few days? I don't know how long Brittany's staying."
"You should be glad she's still here," Lance said with a smile. "That means she doesn't want to leave with bad blood. She knows if she walks out of Kansas City now, talking things out later will be harder. She's smart."
"So this is good."
"You can take the guest room—it'll make this Romeo-and-Juliet thing easier to stage. Sheets should be in the cabinet; my mom washed and folded them last time. Want me to grab them?"
Mahomes waved his hands quickly. "No, no, I got it."
He drifted into his own thoughts, not even noticing Lance head to the bathroom.
How did it even get to this point?
When Lance came out, showered and changed, Mahomes had already unpacked and settled into the guest room.
Lance glanced at him, still looking absent-minded. "I'm going to the hospital to visit a friend. Want to come?"
"Friend" wasn't quite accurate. "You know him too—Felix Gray, the kid with relapsed bone cancer. Seventeen?"
"After the game yesterday, he invited me to meet his friends in the hospital—other fans fighting cancer."
"I told Travis to meet me there."
"I wasn't planning to invite you, figured today was your day off with Brittany. But now…"
"Do you want to take some time, think things over, then talk to Brittany? Or—"
Mahomes cut him off before he could finish. "Hospital? Which one? I'll drive."
Ostrich mentality.
Lance understood. Knowing what you should do was one thing; doing it was harder. Avoidance was natural.
Maybe it was better this way.
After all, Mahomes had just left the house. Both of them were still heated. Giving it a little time and space could stop them from saying something they'd regret.
…
Kelce got to the hospital earlier than planned.
He knew Lance's daily routine—steady as clockwork—so if you weren't careful, you could be the one running late. And even though this visit had no media coverage, purely personal and not a PR event, being late was still bad form.
So he set an alarm and showed up early.
Sure enough, as he parked and was trying to decide what pose to greet Lance with—and how best to rib him for being late—Lance showed up right on time.
Kelce planted his left hand on the car roof, shifted his weight onto his right leg, left foot forward, toes touching the ground—classic Bugs Bunny stance. But what came out of his mouth was nothing he'd planned.
"He's here too?"
He completely forgot about his pose, all attention shifting.
Mahomes looked a bit awkward, not sure what to say.
Lance rescued him. "Here to steal your spotlight."
Kelce laughed without offense. "Ha! Then he'll need to be reborn. This face, this charisma—you can only admire it from afar."
"Don't be jealous—jealousy means you've already lost."
Lance murmured just loud enough for Mahomes to hear, "Ignore him and he turns into an idiot."
Pfft.
Mahomes couldn't hold back a laugh.
Kelce watched in disbelief as the two of them walked right past him. Forget the pose—he took a few long strides to catch up. "No need to be jealous, I'll dial down the charm so you don't get ignored."
"Thanks," Lance said with a bright smile, dead serious.
Mahomes caught the stiffness in Kelce's face—
And burst into laughter.
The three of them joked their way out of the parking lot and into the elevator.
Inside the hospital, the atmosphere instantly quieted them. White dominated the view, and their steps softened without thinking.
The closer they got to oncology, the more it felt like Death's shadow hung overhead—the world becoming purer, but also colder.
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Powerstones?
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