Chapter 3 #2
“Because AJ is a good person.” He sobers up then and looks me straight in the eyes.
“You have a lot of good people around you every day, but let’s be real, we’re surrounded by power-hungry, greedy, materialistic people in this city.
So much so that sometimes maybe it’s hard to look at the bigger picture and realize which people aren’t that great, and I think that’s the main reason for your horrible dating history.
When you go to this thing, AJ can be your baseline, and you’ll be able to see Soren and everybody else with clearer eyes.
I think you’re right,” he says and takes a deep breath, finally winding down.
“You’re going to see that part of your life as what it was—a painful lesson, but hopefully a lesson learned. ”
“That’s the hope,” I say quietly, with the weight of that hope firmly lodged in my throat.
Later that day, when I’m back from the office, I’m surprised when the buzzer for the gate sounds again.
I see AJ smiling like a lunatic when I check the control screen, and I let him in then go out to meet him by the driveway.
“What are you doing here?”
“We have a mission to plan,” he shouts. Today is his off day this week since he played Monday night, so I didn’t expect him to come at all. And I also didn’t expect him to have three sheets of paper full of ink and to wave them around in front of me. “I wrote down some ideas.”
I follow him into the house and to the kitchen where he sets down the papers on the island then goes hunting for something to snack on in my pantry.
He comes back with some tortilla chips and salsa, then grabs a couple of Cokes.
I look down at the papers and I feel my eyebrows rise slowly the more I read.
I don’t know why I didn’t expect this, but I’m really touched by how carefully he’s thinking this through. His offer—and my acceptance—might’ve been impulsive, but he’s taking this seriously. He cares.
Morris’s words come back to me. AJ is a good person.
He’s actually one of the best.
What he wrote down is basically a schedule.
It starts off mid-February, I note—and I have to smile at his unspoken acknowledgement that they’ll make the Super Bowl—and it goes on until three months after the reunion, which is in May. That’s where the “breakup” is happening.
There’s nothing written for December except “story,” which I’m sure he’ll explain once he’s done stuffing his face.
January and the start of February have nothing except “talk to Rosa,” and then it only says “prep” for March, April, and early May.
The date of the reunion is circled in bold red, and it has “showtime” next to it.
“You think that’s enough?” he asks, and that’s when I realize I’ve been smiling this whole time.
“I think coming up with a story will be easy enough, and you sure as hell know everything there is to know about me already, so I think I just need to ask you a few things, like how you take your coffee or shit like that. Then we’ll be good to go. ”
“Yes, I think this is awesome, AJ.” I point down at the schedule. “Thank you.” I try to infuse as much sincerity as I can into my voice. “And I just want you to know that if you ever want to back out—”
“Not happening.” He shuts that idea down hard and shakes his head for good measure.
“If it does happen,” I press. “I won’t ever be mad or disappointed.
” I suck in a deep breath, because as great as this schedule is, I think there’s one little detail he hasn’t thought about.
“There’s one thing you really need to think about, AJ, and that is that if this somehow becomes public, and we break up after only a few months, it could be a media shitshow.
” I hold up a hand to silence him when I see he’s about to interrupt.
“And the world thinking you’re bi could have an impact on your life as well, bud.
” I let that sink in for a moment before I list all the questions he needs to ask himself.
“Would your parents be okay with that? Your sisters, brothers-in-law, friends back home . . . What if a brand or two drops your partnership? I don’t think it’s a good idea to have it be a big public thing. ”
He leans his head in a little when I’m done, as if checking whether I really am done, and then he nods once and walks around the island to sit on one of the stools.
“Okay, first off, my family knows you’re gay because I accidently told them a few years back.
I’ve never told you because I know you’re private and I swore them to secrecy.
They have no issues whatsoever, and now that you know they know, I can tell you my mom asks for an update on your dating life about once a month. ”
I suck in a deep breath. I know all the Quicks have some . . . appreciation for me. They’ve told me every time I’ve seen them how grateful they are that I’m in AJ’s life and have his back, but to know they care that much . . . Well, it’s a surprise.
“My family loves you, Cam. They admire you and are always rooting for you like they are for me. Next, I don’t have any close friends back home because they’re all super weird about my career.”
Meaning they all want a piece of his fortune, I think with some resentment. Some people in Lincoln, Nebraska, fucked him over after his rookie year and they stole something from him. Not money or any possession, but trust.
AJ now being someone who doesn’t trust anyone he meets makes my job easier, but I still hate that he’s become just a tiny bit more cynical.
He shouldn’t have to be.
“If any of my sponsors drop my contract then that’s their loss, and I wouldn’t want to work with bigots anyway, so don’t even worry about that.”
After another deep breath, this one more controlled, I nod and concede him all those points.
“The one other thing I’ve thought about is how to deal with the public if it gets out.
” AJ sounds so . . . calm. He’s no longer overexcited or jumping out of his skin, but he does reach for the tortilla chips again.
“I can make a simple post soon. If we go out to dinner or whatever, we can take a selfie and I’ll post it.
We don’t have to hold hands or anything, but maybe hugging, and I can just put something about how grateful I am to have you beside me, and that doesn’t scream boyfriends, but if anyone at the reunion wonders, then there’s some proof right there from months back. ”
“That’s a good idea,” I murmur, hating myself for how impressed I am that he thought of that.
“And then if pictures of the reunion come out, well then, we don’t hold hands for those and we can just say I was your plus one and be done with it. If anyone at the reunion goes to the press, then we can say that person’s delusional and tell your mom so she doesn’t worry.”
“That is a lot of lying,” I muse, still not sure about how comfortable I am with any of it.
“It is, but we’ve got time to think it through.”
“Yeah, we do.” And with that I shove it all away from my thoughts. “Now you need to focus on football.”
“Fuck yeah,” he cheers, then goes diving for the salsa.
Only a week and a half later, I can’t force my mind to think about anything but the reunion.
Seeing Soren again, and for the last time, finding a way to forget him and his words . . . I want it more in this moment than I ever have, because spending New Year’s alone in my house really would be a depressing night.
It cements my resolve to get things at the reunion right, so that afterward I can finally start building the life I want.
I want love, I want to share my life with another man and to never spend a New Year’s Eve alone again.
I’ll get over that awful Valentine’s Day from twenty years ago—and it’s still pathetic that I haven’t, but I try not to dwell on that—and I’ll find my man. Whoever he is, wherever he is . . . I’ll find him.
Three weeks later, that confidence I found hasn’t left me, even when AJ loses in the Wildcard Weekend against New Mexico.
He’s in a shitty mood when I intercept him before he even hits the locker room, but he lets me hug him and pat him on the back.
When he comes out of the locker room, his frown is even darker, though, and I know I have to find a way to let him feel his feelings for a day, then I’ll cheer him up . . . somehow.
He asks me to have a late-night dinner of room service with him, and of course I agree. While we’re devouring pasta and chicken, he straightens up suddenly and there’s a new twinkle in his eyes.
“At least now I get to spend more time preparing for the reunion.”
He doesn’t sound cheerful, not exactly, but at least he’s not grumbling.
“You also have a lot of work to do in the off-season.” I don’t manage to sound stern at all.
“Man,” he whines and slumps back in his chair. “Can’t we schedule all the commercials and interviews and photoshoots for after the reunion?” He sounds like a little kid bargaining not to go to school, and I can’t be mad at it. “I feel like I need an actual vacation.”
“But then we won’t be able to work on this.” I wave a hand between us.
“No, this will be fun! I’ll find other ways to prove we’ve been together for some time without making a whole circus for everyone in the world to know.
Only if people look deeply. Like, tomorrow I’ll post another picture of us, of me just thanking you for your support or something.
That’s innocent enough, but like the one last month, it’ll do the trick. ”
I was relieved when I saw no comments hinting that we were more than agent and client or even friends. Mostly people were oohing and ahhing over how amazing AJ is, how thoughtful, grateful, and yes, cute he always comes across. I know someone else who thinks that…
There’s a few moments of silence where we go back to our food, but then he looks up again and I feel dread rising in my stomach.
“Then we need to figure out when we’re telling your mom we’re seeing each other. She has to know before anyone else.”
I’ve been putting that off, but it seems AJ’s not having it anymore.
Shit.