Chapter 32 Luc #2
A few people snap photos and try to run after the car when we exit through a back gate, but we’re gone before most of the mob realizes we’ve given them the slip. My pulse throbs, too hard and too fast, and no amount of deep breathing will make it settle.
“Hell of a mob out there,” Coach mutters finally, his hands steady on the wheel. “You kept it together alright.”
I’m a little shocked those are his first words to me. If anything, I’m expecting him to ream me out for embarrassing the team and making a spectacle of myself.
“Doesn’t feel that way,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Sorry for all the trouble this is causing. I didn’t mean–"
“Of course you didn’t mean for any of this to happen. It’s not your fault the press is no better than a pack of wolves.” He glances over. “Listen, right now your best move is to lay low. Take a break for a couple days and let the hype wear down.”
“But Coach–”
“You can’t tell me that a couple of days is going to get in your way of helping your team bring home a Super Bowl win.”
“No, sir.”
“Let the PR team mitigate this mess and do what you need to do to get your shit in order.”
“Yes, sir.”
I wonder if he noticed that I don’t put up much fight. The truth is, I’m not comfortable in the locker room with my teammates right now. Not because any of them are being inappropriate, but because I feel exposed. All my nerves are raw, and I am way too aware of the eyes on me.
Coach ends up dropping me off at a hotel.
The entrance to my building is jammed with camera crews, vans, tripods, and people milling about waiting to get a glimpse of me.
Even if we could get inside, I’d be cooped up in there knowing that I’m trapped inside unless I want to go through all of them.
If there’s one thing being with Jesse has taught me, it’s that money and celebrity come with perks that can make my life a whole lot easier.
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Get some rest, Martín. And call me if you need anything.”
I wave him off and check in to the hotel, making sure that no visitors are allowed to ring through or come up to my room. When the door clicks shut behind me, silence crashes down, almost as loud as the mob of reporters.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pull out my phone and hover over Jesse’s name. After turning off all my notifications and news apps, I’d sent Jesse another text–my third of the day, but there’s been little response other than a short, “I’ll fix this.”
I’m not sure if he wants to talk, but I call anyway. Like the incident with Jesse’s cloud account getting hacked, it feels like we’re allowing too much distance to settle between us when we should be supporting each other.
It rings. And rings. I’m just about to give up when the line picks up.
“Luc?” Jesse’s voice is pained, raspy in a way that sounds raw rather than sexy.
“Yeah.” I sink back onto the pillows, my hand resting across my forehead. “Sorry it’s so late. I should have called earlier, but it’s been…” I huff out a breath. There isn’t a word for the unexpected bombardment today turned into. “It’s been a lot.”
“Baby, I am so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I remind him. “It’s more than we wanted to deal with, but we’ll get through this.”
“You don’t want to run for the hills yet?”
“I’ve got my running shoes on and everything,” I tell him. “But I’m staying put. My condo is swarmed so I’m lying low at a hotel.”
“That’s smart. You need to stay safe. These people are like vultures.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Are you okay? Staying somewhere safe?”
“I’m trying to fix this,” he says. “My PR team is working on it from all angles, but it’s taken off even more than we expected. Who knew we’d be the ‘it’ power couple of the year and it’s only January?”
I chuckle humorlessly. There’s a quiet stretch where I can hear him breathing.
We trade small reassurances that feel as fragile as my tenuous control over my emotions.
The affection is there, but there’s an awkward silence that spotlights everything we don’t say.
I want to tell him that I love him, that we’ll weather this storm together, that everything will be okay.
Of course, I don’t know that everything will actually be okay.
My life is forever changed. But I’m less afraid than I was before, because I know what we have together is worth it.
What we have is worth it. But I’ve never been good at words.
Instead, I just tell him those three little words that mean so much more than words can ever express.
“I love you.”
When we finally hang up, I stare at the photo I stupidly saved as my screen saver. The moment felt huge, but really it was such a small, simple gesture. A kiss to ring in the new year, stolen quickly in the shadows. Yet the bomb that’s detonated because of it has blown everything apart.
I trace the edge of the screen with my thumb and remember the way Jesse makes me feel, how he’s always made me feel, from the first night I met him. Is it na?ve to wish to be nothing more than two people in love? Not headlines and mobs of flashing cameras and intrusive questions.
How long will it take before the world quiets again? Or is that gone forever?