Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Of course he’s freaked-out. You are too, right?”
“Well, yeah…”
“Then why wouldn’t he be? I know it’s stressful. Believe me, I went through similar worries with Anson, but…Darren doesn’t strike me as the type to run. And he definitely has no problems sharing what’s on his mind. He’s just got to work through it all. Hell, it’s only been a few days.”
He was right. Of course he was right. “I know. I just… I want what’s best for him…and I don’t want to lose him.”
I should probably tell Darren how I felt. I trusted him. But I also didn’t want to add something else to his already full plate.
Before we could come to any conclusions, there was a knock on West’s door. Philip poked his head inside. “There’s a bit of a situation out front. A parent looking for their daughter.”
West cursed, both of us immediately shoving to our feet. I pushed my worries aside for the moment so I could help my friend.
By the time everything got sorted out, we’d been sidetracked enough not to get back to that same conversation. I was slightly thankful for that.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Darren
“You’re being a dick.” Mia sat beside me on the patio. It was raining outside, but it wasn’t too cold, and the patio cover protected us as I watched the water splat onto the ground.
“Don’t go easy on me or anything.” I wasn’t sure dick was the right word. It felt a little strong. Maybe incredibly grumpy?
“I don’t really do that, and you wouldn’t expect it from me or want it. This is how we work, D. Plus, you’ve never wanted anyone to go easy on you.”
She was right. I was feeling sorry for myself, same as I’d been for the past few days.
“I think your boyfriend is worried it has something to do with him.” She shook her head. “God, that’s weird to say.”
“It’s weird to hear.” But it was true, and I didn’t want to change it for anything. “It’s not him—well, not really. Not in a way that makes me not want to be with him. It’s just…” How the fuck did I even word this? “He makes things easier in here”—I touched my temple, then my chest—“but harder out there”—I pointed to the open space around us. How fucked was the world that being together and how people took it had to be something we considered, that we had to worry about or care about—especially in my career. “Anson once told me that if they travel out of the country, West researches their LGBTQ laws. Queer people can still get fired from some jobs just for being queer! My whole team is full of straight people, but we have to worry about what it means for the Lightning and what people will say if there are two men on the team who are with men. West’s parents don’t even have anything to do with him! I don’t fucking get it. Then on top of it, I have this injury.” It felt like everything hit me at once. At first it all went so fast and it was just the fun stuff, the sexy stuff. Then my injury came, and I realized how much else there was, the kind of things I had to think about or deal with, and on top of getting hurt and being in limbo, it was a lot.
“Is he worth it?” Mia asked.
“Yes.” I turned to her. “Fuck yes.” There had been no hesitation on my part, no question.
“Then there’s your answer. We can’t control what other people do or think. Humans fucking suck. The world fucking sucks, but it’s people like you who change it, who make it better. We control our actions, our narrative, and that’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna control the fuck out of it until my little brother gets everything he wants—the man, the contract, and whatever it is you want after football.” Jesus, she was great. I opened my mouth to tell her, but she spoke again first, “Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, bonehead, and do what the Edwards family do. Fucking fight. You shattered your arm right before free agency, and you have a boyfriend—only the second person in the NFL that we know of to have one. Own it.”
“Is that supposed to help?” I teased.
“Yes, because that right there says how strong you are. We defy odds in our family. That’s what we do. It’s time to defy.”
“Thanks, sis.” We were on the same page. I didn’t plan to let this take me down. I looked at my splinted arm. “I want Momma to like him.”
“If he treats you right, she will. And he does. She’s surprised, and she’s protective, but she doesn’t give a shit about being queer. She doesn’t work that way. She doesn’t judge you unless you treat her babies bad, and then she will fuck your shit up.”