Chapter Two
The doorbell rang repeatedly, dragging Court from the couch. He had only been awake for an hour and hadn’t even had his coffee yet. His mind had been too busy. Court didn’t know why he wasn’t surprised to see Heath’s stupid smiling face on his stoop, but deep down, he had known Heath would show.
“Good morning. I assume you heard from the attorneys.” He stepped inside without being invited.
Court closed the door. Unfortunately, he had heard from his lawyer first thing. The contract was solid. There was no wording that stated it couldn’t be sold. “Yes. I heard. Thankfully, Portland Wales intends to take on my contract, so…” As the words left Court’s mouth, he realized the stupidity of them. If Heath had bought him from Wayne, then he likely wasn’t interested in selling.
“No, thank you. I won you fair and square. Now—”
“Won me?” Court was too shocked to formulate a single thought.
Heath didn’t give him time to rage. He gestured wildly. “I see the cogs turning in your head. Don’t even think about it. There’s also nothing in the contract that states you can’t be wagered away.”
Court couldn’t decide which was more insulting, being sold or lost on a bet. Either way, Wayne was definitely on his blacklist now. “If you won’t sell, then I’ll just break the deal.”
Heath shrugged and headed back to the door. “Fine. I’ll see you in court and your reputation will be in tatters, but it’s completely your choice if you want to ruin your business.”
A growl rose and stuck in his throat. No one could possibly understand how much he loathed every second of this. “Fine. What are we doing today?”
Heath turned, all shit-eating smiles. “Excellent. Put on some shorts and grab your tennis gear. I have a court reserved.”
For a moment, all Court could do was stare. Heath was for real, and it was a nightmare. “I don’t play tennis.”
Heath’s smile somehow grew. “Well, then. Today is a good day to learn.”
Court turned away. He could be the professional.
“Don’t forget the comfortable tennis shoes.”
The way Court wanted to start throwing punches was real, but he could survive two months. He had survived worse.
It was possible Heath didn’t have to lob balls past Court at such a high rate of speed. He was actually a pretty good tennis coach. But Court still treated him like a burden rather than a client and—quite honestly—Heath had never wanted to break anyone as badly as he did the smug bastard across the net from him.
Heath threw up his hands when Court let another ball go flying past him. “Damn, Court. I know you said you’ve never played before, but I still expected better. You’re not even trying.”
Court stared at him with murder in his eyes. “I can’t help it. You didn’t listen when I said I don’t know this game.”
Heath made a dismissive motion. “Don’t worry. You’ll do much better at golf. I have a six-a.m. tee time scheduled for us so we can beat the heat.”
The intent to kill didn’t lessen in Court’s expression. “I don’t play golf either.”
“Really?” Heath’s surprise was genuine. He thought everyone in their circles played. “No golf. No tennis. Basketball? Squash? Croquet?”
“Nope.”
Heath’s confusion grew. “You’re in great shape. What do you do? Don’t tell me you just go to the gym and pick up weights. That’s incredibly boring.”
“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I do.” A wicked-looking smile stretched his lips. “Would you like to join me for that?”
Heath was fairly certain that smile was Court picturing his death. He waved his racquet. “Serve the ball the way I showed you.”
While looking resigned as hell, Court retrieved the ball and did a somewhat decent job of serving. Heath swatted it back to Court. The ball hit him in the chest. The people on the court next to them laughed.
Court growled. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand why you have this perverse desire to always humiliate me. Tell me. Why?”
His explosion of anger was disproportionate to the day they had shared so far. But if Court was already ready to throw in the towel and have this out, Heath was game. The contract meant nothing to him. He didn’t give a damn if he ever saw Court again. “I will as soon as you explain why you’re always such a douche. You don’t even know me. Yet the first time we met, you couldn’t wait to toss insults my way.” Even Heath couldn’t explain why Court’s jab about him being spoiled had stung so much. He was spoiled and didn’t give a fuck. But—for whatever reason—coming from Court, it pissed him off.
“Don’t know you,” Court repeated, as if more for himself. His expression turned incredulous as hell. “Don’t know you. I absolutely know you, Heath Overton.”
Heath’s brow furrowed at the hatred that dripped from Court’s lips. “I never met you before the night Lazarus carried Noir from the club.”
Court’s expression snapped closed. His eyes turned dead. “Sophomore year. Five minutes in the closet.”
“What the—” A memory creeped in. He had been at a party. There had been tons of drinking and a more risqué version of spin the bottle they had dubbed five minutes in the closet. He had spun the bottle and ended up with a chubby kid that didn’t run in his crowd. They had five uninterrupted minutes in the closet to do anything. Back then, Heath hadn’t been the least bit picky about who sucked his dick. Still, Court was full of shit. “That wasn’t you.”
Court simply stared at him, as if waiting for Heath to come to terms with reality.
Heath struggled to combine the vague memory of that night with the man standing in front of him. It didn’t happen. “That wasn’t you. If you went to school with me, I’d at least recall your name.”
“Be real, Heath. You didn’t know anyone outside your popular kid clique.”
The confusion had him completely off guard. “It was just a stupid game.”
“Was it?” Court sounded unbelievably cold. “I thought so too until you tumbled from that closet and told all your little buddies what a good little cocksucker I was.” Court did the air quotes and everything.
The first hint of guilt hit. He might have done that. Everyone was a shithead when they were young and dumb.
Unfortunately, Court didn’t stop there. “Do you have any idea what that did to my life? I got bullied and sexually harassed. Assaulted. It got so bad, I had to go to a different school. Not that it mattered. They had heard the rumors there too. That little game ended with me in the hospital when I tried to kill myself.”
“I don’t remember.” Heath didn’t know why that was the only thing he could think to say.
Court shrugged. “The hammer never remembers the nail.” He threw down his racquet. “You know what? Sic your lawyer on me and ruin my reputation. It won’t be the first time.” Court walked away, leaving Heath alone and stunned.
For a moment, Heath simply stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened. Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to rally. He grabbed their gear and ran after Court. Heath caught him as he reached the parking lot. “I drove.”
“I know,” Court called over his shoulder, sounding exactly like he thought Heath was dumb. “Ubers exist.”
Heath jumped into his path. He walked backward as he tried to calm Court. “Would it make you feel better if I returned the favor? You could tell everyone I give terrible head, have a small dick, and cried afterward.”
Court tried stepping around him.
Heath stayed in his path while still herding him toward the car. “Would it make a difference if I told you I bragged to everyone because no one had ever made me blow so fast? I was embarrassed.”
Court stopped. “You were embarrassed because a fat nobody you didn’t want made you lose control.”
Actually, no. Heath seriously hadn’t cared about Court’s weight or looks. He just wanted to get off. Heath didn’t think it would be a good idea to say as much. “Look, you pick what we do tomorrow.”
Court huffed. “I told you. I’m done. Sue me.”
Heath held his stare. “You can choose anything.”
With a huff, Court shuffled from foot to foot. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Nope. Come on. I’ll take you home and you can think of a proper way to punish me tomorrow.”
Court rolled his eyes, but he let Heath open the door for him. Heath took it as a good sign. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done or even why he considered doing so. All Heath knew was he felt guilty, which never happened to him. For that reason alone, he had to make this right. Court didn’t say a word on the drive home. Heath was more than a little surprised when he didn’t jump from the car and run for the door the second Heath stopped in his driveway.
For a moment, Court stared at nothing. Finally, he blew out a breath. “Keep the six-a.m. tee time. If, and I’m serious about this if. If you swear to teach me golf for real, no more bs, we can finish out the contract.”
Court didn’t sound happy about bending for him, but Heath would take it. He didn’t like this feeling that sat on his chest. Heath needed time to work through this in his head. The image he had in his mind of that night didn’t line up with the man sitting next to him. Heath had to think about this. Until then, Court couldn’t go away. He had to see this through.