Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Noah’s cool,” Damon says. “Can be a dick at times, but it’s a front. I called in a favor and already got him to agree to this.”
“So, just like that, you’re pimpin’ me out, huh?” I’m not trying to be a surly asshole, but this is my life. I also hate that my accent, which I’ve trained myself to get rid of, seeps into my words the more agitated I get.
“This is a business arrangement,” Damon says. “We’re setting up some PR events for you two to attend together, and we’re going to announce your relationship after the cruise we’ve booked for you to get to know each other. Seven nights round trip to Bermuda. Maddy and I are coming too.”
“Shouldn’t you be here trying to find me a contract instead of going on a cruise? Shouldn’t I be doing something else? Somethin’ football related?”
“Matt.” Great, even Damon’s getting over my attitude. “Your main focus should be on fixing your image, because without doing that, you won’t see a contract.”
“Aren’t there rules in the league about anti-discrimination?”
“I have another meeting,” the old guy says and turns to Damon. “You can handle it from here.”
When he leaves, Damon sighs. “Look, if we could take the discrimination road, we would, but it won’t achieve what we want. If you were happy to retire from football with a nice lump sum payout, we could maybe fight this. But the truth is, we’ll probably lose.”
“Why? Contract negotiations were going fine until I was outed.”
“All sports contracts include a morality clause. Even if those photos had been of you with a woman, the Bulldogs would’ve had the right to dump your contract. Would they have if it’d been a woman? Probably not. But we can’t prove that. They can prove your morality is questionable after getting freaky in a club with a random guy. Again, if it’d been a woman, you might be facing the same scrutiny.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. There have been rape allegations around some players, and they never got fired.”
“Well, fuck, Matt.” Professional Damon is replaced with friend Damon. I reckon I like him better than the suit he hides behind. “What do you want to do about it? You can fight for your reputation and try to win back your spot in the NFL or ride the rainbow train into court and possibly lose everything. In a perfect world, this would all blow over, but we both know that’s not how our world works. When I played baseball and there were rumors of me being the number one draft pick, the pressure was doubled because I was an openly gay player. The media jumps on this shit because people think they have a right to know everything about everyone’s business—especially athletes and famous people—because it bumps up their ratings. With any luck, another football scandal will break before training camp and you’ll be pushed out of the spotlight. But until that happens, you’re it, and we need to do everything to make sure the rest of the articles posted about you are positive.”
“Nice pep talk,” I grumble. “When’s the cruise?”
“Two weeks.”
I fake a smile. “Can’t wait.”
The plan is to leave checking in to the last possible moment, but two hours before I’m set to leave the hotel Damon’s agency put me up in last night, there’s a knock on my door, and standing behind it is the guy hired to be my boyfriend for a few months.
Noah Huntington III. I had to Google him. As soon as his picture popped up on my screen, I recognized him from that night I met Damon. Of course, of all the people I met that night, Noah had to be the hottest one there. Only problem with that is he knew it too. His mansion didn’t impress me, but his piercing blue-green eyes that somehow held both arrogance and charm had me wishing Maddox hadn’t left me alone to do God knows what to Damon in the spare bedroom of Noah’s house.
And now I’m going to be stuck with him for months. Great.
His father is the former governor of New York and is now a democratic senator. He’s an old white dude, and his mother is African-American. Toss in a gay son, and they’re the picture-perfect family for a utopian world where it doesn’t matter what race, religion, or orientation you are.
I understand why Damon chose Noah to be my boyfriend, but I worry it’s too gimmicky—too let’s shove our point down people’s throats. It feels fake.
That’s because it is, dumbass.
Those annoyingly hypnotic blue-green eyes stare back at me, and a smirk plays on Noah’s lips. Dark skin and toned muscles, all wrapped up in the confidence of a rich trust-fund kid. I hate to admit it, but it makes me dislike him already because I envy him.