Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
But I called this meeting. “There must be a quiet spot somewhere,” I say softly.
Jason coolly nods toward the hallway that must lead to the lockers. He’s so smooth with everything. I bet this sort of thing is routine to him. He’s Mister Easygoing, moving through life, chatting casually with guys he once hooked up with like it’s no big deal.
But whatever his story is, I need to say my piece, for myself.
I follow him. There are small exercise rooms on each side of the hall for personal training sessions, with mats and balance balls. Jason gestures to an empty one and opens the door. At least it’s nice and quiet in here, even if it does feel like a fishbowl, with anyone passing by able to look in.
I speak before I lose the nerve. “I wanted to explain what went down after the game last year,” I say.
Jason shakes his head, offering me a warm smile that spreads to those blue eyes. “Like I said, we’re all good. There’s no need.”
But there is a need. I need to tell him. “I want to clear the air. About the . . .” I don’t want to presume he’s even thought twice about what happened. “The situation. My situation,” I say to jog his memory.
Jason smiles again. Shakes his head again. “Seriously. We’re all good.”
He sounds so genuine, so real. Like he did that night when he gave me media tips. When we laughed and talked and teased.
I scrub a hand across the back of my neck, buying some time.
Jason, though, is so good at off-the-cuff. “Listen, I don’t know you well, and that’s cool. But if you need someone to talk to, or someone to turn to for advice about being an athlete and being bi, I’m happy to put you in touch with some good people.”
What?
My head spins.
“What do you mean, exactly?” I ask carefully. Is he offering to connect me with other queer folks? Why the hell does he think I need that?
“You gotta do you, Cafferty. Whatever works for you, but if you need support or advice or anything, at any point in your journey, just know that I’m out, Nate is out, and a bunch of baseball players on both the Cougars and the Dragons are. And there’s a great LGBTQ Alliance in town. We’re all here if you need anything.”
Whoa. My brain is ping-ponging, trying to follow this unexpected conversation.
My journey?
He doesn’t know my journey. He doesn’t know who I am. I’m not in the closet. My football buddies from Los Angeles, like Drew and Ángel, know I’m bi. My agent knows. Most of my former teammates knew. And so did my last girlfriend, Rachel.
I’m just not on fucking social media. That’s all.
“I appreciate that, but I want to . . .” Clear the air dies on my tongue as Jason points to the clock on the wall.
“I need to hit the treadmill, and then I have a date at my place with a very special guy. See you later. And best of luck this season.” Then he gives me that crooked smile that melts my heart and balls. “And I can’t wait to destroy you on the field.”
On that throwdown, he leaves, strutting down the hallway like that was easy for him. Reeling off advice. Grinning casually. Taking off to work out and get ready for his date.
What a lucky guy to have a date with Jason McKay.
I didn’t get to say my piece, but the window has closed.
I leave and find Carter on a treadmill. When my teammate spots me walking toward him, he holds out his hands in a what gives? then tugs out his earbuds. “Where did you disappear to with McKay?”
My face burns again. My stomach flips.
Not only did I gain zero resolution, but now I’m also hot and bothered. In just a few minutes, he turned me on and shut me down.
That man has too much of an effect on me. I’ve got to get it together. I put on my poker face as I claim the machine next to Carter, slapping my towel on the bar. “We were just trading trash talk. You know how it goes.”
He offers a fist for knocking. “Excellent. You’re already trying to psych out the city’s other QB. You’re gonna fit in here just fine, Caff.”
That’s what I’m here to do. To slide into this well-oiled machine of a team and take them to the postseason once more.
As I run, I cross apologize to Jason off my to-do list. I tried. He said we’re good. That’s all that matters.
But as I run, I feel weirdly unfulfilled.
Like I didn’t close the loop.
And I hate incomplete passes.
5
SUCH A NICE GUY
Jason
That was painful but necessary.
If Beck thought I was icing him out because he’s closeted, I could not sleep well at night. I might not date guys in the closet, but I’m not a dick about how people run their lives. Everyone has their comfort level with their public image and private business. Mine is mine. Beck’s is his.