The Winner Takes All (Complete Collection)

24. This Is Your Warning

24

THIS IS YOUR WARNING

Gunnar

In the morning, I don’t have an answer to Rafe’s proposal, but I have a message waiting for me in my inbox.

I’m standing at the kitchen counter, eating scrambled eggs and checking my phone, and I spot the email the Dragons’ PR guy sent me. In it, Owen lays out details of the one-off sponsorship from Boyfriend Material. The dating app wants me to do a video on how to send a thirst trap.

I smile as I read:

As I’m sure this won’t surprise you at all, the picture you posted last week was quite popular. It generated a lot of conversation, and Boyfriend Material wants to partner with you. I sent the info to your agent, and I’ll let the two of you figure out if it’s right for you.

But if you get a chance, I’d love to chat with you about this and something else, too. Can you meet me for a cup of coffee before the team plane takes off before our New York trip?

Frowning, I read his note again. Owen is usually happy to get things done over email.

Does he want to meet about this sponsorship deal or something else he’s not telling me yet? I’m curious as hell so I reply I’ll be there . I scroll through my email until I find one from my agent, Josh Summers, which spells out the finer details of the sponsorship. If I do a how-to video breaking down the style of my thirst traps, I’ve got a five-figure payday coming to me. Josh finishes the note: This seems right up your alley. Let me know what you think. As your agent and as your friend, I’d tell you to accept. But of course, it’s up to you.

Fuck yeah, I’m accepting.

Every little bit helps. You never know how long you’re going to be able to play ball. I need to make—and save—as much as I can.

After breakfast, I lob in a quick call to my little sister, Jamie.

She answers right away. “Hey, I’m on my way to class right now. But I had to take a call from the superstar,” she says, teasing.

I roll my eyes, packing for New York while we chat. “I’m not a superstar.”

“I’m glad you said that. If you’re not famous, I didn’t see that image of you in your underwear,” she says.

“Don’t look at my Instagram. I’ve told you that, Jamie,” I chide.

“I didn’t want to. Everyone was sharing it. Trust me, I averted my eyes,” she says.

“Good. You’ve learned well,” I say. “How are your classes?”

She rattles off what she’s studying in her pre-med courses, and her happy excitement is everything. I want to help her achieve her dreams, and if a picture of me in my skivvies can do that, I’ll keep snapping.

When she reaches the building for her bio class, we wrap up our goodbyes.

“Love you, kid,” I say.

“Love you too,” she answers.

I hang up and do my best to focus on business, baseball, and family. If I think too much about Rafe’s offer, I might become more obsessed with him than I already am. It’s a good thing I’m going away.

After the last two nights—which felt like non-stop Rafe—I need some time apart from him to consider his offer.

I weigh the pros and cons as I head to meet Owen. On the one hand, there’s my libido—my dick wants an extended ride on the Rafe coaster. But if the man takes up this much space in my mind now, what’s my head going to be like after thirty days as his lover?

When I reach the coffee shop, I push Rafe and his arrangement out of my mind to concentrate on my meeting with Owen. We grab drinks and a table in the back. We chat a little about the game last night and the one coming up, and then I steer things to the reason we’re here.

“So, what’s on your mind, O? Your note seemed unusually clandestine.”

He laughs softly, then clears his throat, shifting his tone. “I want to tell you something as a friend. Someone with your best interests at heart.”

This sounds serious. “What is it?”

“I say this, too, as one queer man to another. I want you to be careful,” he says.

I bristle. “What do you mean?”

Wild thoughts race in my head, pinging between defensive and alarmed. He was at the stadium the other night. Did he walk past the suite when I was down on my knees?

Owen swallows as if this is difficult for him to say. He might even be blushing. “I never want to police anyone’s after-hours activities. Whatever you like, you like. Your choices are your choices. I just don’t want to see you in a compromising position,” he says.

I catch his drift. It’s two plus two, not higher math. “Are you saying you don’t want me to get caught with my pants down?”

He laughs, sounding relieved. “Yeah, I am kind of saying that.”

“And are you saying you know what I did the other night?”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “No. But I know who the stationery came from. I know you went to Marlow’s suite afterward. And I think whatever you’re doing on your own time is entirely your business.” He blows out a breath. “I just don’t want to see an unscrupulous fan take a photo of you. Catch you doing something risqué. Doesn’t matter if it’s with a man or a woman. I don’t want you shown in a light that would cause any concern. Do you get my meaning?”

I go a little cold all over. There are risks to the desires Rafe is unlocking in me. That’s what makes him appealing.

But Owen’s point is a damn good one.

What if some intrepid photographer with a long-range lens had taken a photo of me sucking Rafe’s dick in the owner’s suite? What if someone at The West House had snuck a cell phone in? How would that affect my sponsorship deals? My reputation? Any future partnerships?

Even if it didn’t hurt my career, it certainly wouldn’t help.

“I appreciate you looking out for me,” I say sincerely. “It means a lot.”

Owen’s smile is ninety-nine percent relieved. “I hope so. I’m all for the edgy, sexy image you put online. But for your sake, I want to make sure nobody can misinterpret that edgy, sexy image.”

My phone pings with an alert that I need to get moving if I’m going to board the plane with the rest of the team. We gather our trash and I say goodbye on autopilot.

On the way to the airport, and onto the team plane, I consider what Owen said.

His points are an icy dose of reality. A tryst with Rafe might be too risky. I mull it over as we buckle in and the aircraft taxis for takeoff.

By the time we’re winging away from San Francisco, I’m convinced that seeing Rafe again would be a very bad idea. It will help to see Mom and my little brother in New York. To reconnect with my priorities. My focus should be on work and family, not on sex.

I stare out the window as we fly east. I don’t chat with Zane or the other guys on the team. I don’t watch the shows I downloaded to my phone.

Somewhere over the Central time-zone line, I open my texts and start a new one addressed to the man who made me a proposal last night.