Chapter 1 #2
“It was really only him,” I mumble. “It was all very secret.”
“So he made you hide,” he adds, stopping and slapping his hands on his hips. And on his face . . . well, that’s not any frown I’ve seen before. It looks kinda scary. His blue eyes look darker and his mouth is set in a grim line.
“No,” I correct him. “I was hiding anyway, and like I said, I’m over him, it’s just that it would be a glaring reminder that I’m still single.” Which wouldn’t really be an issue if I wasn’t so desperate for some real connection, a true relationship and partnership. I want that more than anything.
See? I am needy.
Fucking Soren. His voice comes right back to life in my head at the worst of times.
“It really wasn’t that bad. I liked almost everyone else.
” I keep talking because right now it feels like a dark cloud of doom will swallow me up if I don’t, if I let the silence stretch a second longer.
“There were a few exceptions, of course, but I had my teammates who were also my best friends back then.”
“See? You need to go.” Again with the damn declarations. “Reunions are awesome! I had so much fun at mine.”
Of course it was fun for him.
He’s AJ fucking Quick after all. Two-time Super Bowl champion, three-time NFL MVP . . . I bet people were clamoring to hang out with him.
“It’s different for me,” I stress out.
“Dude,” he deadpans. “How can it be different for you? You’re a millionaire, at the top of your game. You have your own agency now, you represent some of the most badass athletes in the world, and you love your job on top of that.”
Well, if he insists on being logical . . .
“Well, yeah, but none of my old classmates know that.”
“Caden knows,” he protests.
“Caden’s the only one I’ve kept in contact with, and he also doesn’t speak to anyone from back home as far as I know.”
“So he can hype you up,” he cajoles, and reaches out to drag the armchair closer to my desk, then he sits down and leans forward. His golden hair flops up and down in front of his eyes and he bats it away.
“You need a haircut,” I tell him, and he wags a finger at me.
“Don’t change the subject, buddy. What’s it going to take for you to go to this thing?”
“Why do you care so much?” I ask instead of answering, because I . . . don’t know.
“Because you deserve to go back home and show everyone what a success you’ve made of yourself and to have fun catching up with people you cared about. Now, what’s it going to take?” The insistent way in which he asks has me snapping back at him with the full unadulterated truth.
“If I find a devoted boyfriend who’ll go with me to this thing, who I want to spend the rest of my life with, who doesn’t mind that I’m travelling for work every week, and won’t cheat on me in the next five months, then I’ll go.”
That’s pretty much how low my standards have gotten, but it wasn’t always like that.
I’ve always searched for love . . . hence the whole Soren debacle, but for some reason I just can’t seem to find it, ever.
AJ deflates and slumps back, which is all I need to know that he just realized this isn’t happening.
In the last handful of years we’ve become closer friends than is normal for agent and client. He knows all about my failed attempts at finding the one, and I know about his inability to find a normal girl to build a relationship with.
I can’t say I blame them for falling for him almost instantly, but some of them have taken things a bit too far, and AJ always just lets it slide and moves on.
The girl who broke into his house and cut up half his clothes? Didn’t press charges.
The one who stole his damn Ferrari?
He just asked for it back and didn’t even get a restraining order.
AJ might be the best at reading people, but he’s not great at context clues or you know . . . knowing when someone’s about to cross into crazyland.
The list is endless, as is mine. On more than ten occasions since we’ve known each other he’s offered to go beat up an ex of mine.
I’ve always stopped him of course, because one, I’m in charge of managing his perfect reputation and assault charges would have me working day and night for years, and two, none of my exes are really worth it.
Also, violence is wrong or whatever.
In any case, I can tell he knows it would be nearly impossible for me to find the man of my dreams just in time for this reunion.
Which is a good thing, I remind myself. I don’t actually want to go.
But then he springs up, eyes wide and sparkling that sky blue once more.
“What about me?” he demands loudly. It takes me a moment to remember the last thing I said, and when what he’s implying clicks, I start choking on air.
“Ex-fucking-cuse me?” I cry out between coughs.
“I can be your boyfriend.” He looks really happy and proud of this marvelous solution.
“What are you talking about?” I shout, really starting to worry I missed some very important part of this conversation.
“I mean,” he stresses, speaking slowly. “I can go with you to the reunion, throw your success and this sexy-ass bod in what’s-his-name’s face, and then you get to hang out with your buddies for a weekend.”
He gestures at his torso, and I know it’s wrong, but the pictures of that underwear campaign he did flit through my mind instantly.
It was only last year that he did that photoshoot, and I was in charge of approving the final pictures they’d use . . . that’s the only reason it took me so long to go through them.
Yup, the only reason.
I shake my head. I’m not thinking about any of it ever again, and I snap my gaze back up again.
There is . . . too much hope in his eyes, and it reminds me I need to lock the fuck in and shut this shit down. He probably thinks I’ve been entertaining his dumb-ass idea.
“No, no, no, no.” I keep shaking my head. “That’s not happening.”
“Come on,” he cajoles. “Why not? It’s a bulletproof plan.”
I scoff, hard. And for the next fifteen seconds it’s the only thing I can do, just let out scoff after scoff.
Why is it hard all of a sudden to point out how not perfect his plan is? I have my mouth open and everything but nothing will come out.
AJ always says, “It’s a perfect plan,” and it never fucking is.
Well, outside the football field it’s never a perfect plan. Like that one time he wanted to get a pet python—not a perfect plan.
Or when he wanted us to go bungee jumping in New Zealand—also not a perfect plan.
Or that time he bought wigs and weird-ass clothes so he could walk down Hollywood Boulevard with me—not his worst plan, actually, but he got recognized two steps in.
Another time he told me with a straight face that he was going to make an ad for a porn star, and also for a porn site, and that was another one of his “perfect” plans—one I thankfully got shut down.
Nothing against porn or porn stars—obviously, since I’ve been single almost all my adult life—but he’s a franchise quarterback, and a role model for kids.
Even if his fans are also grown-ass adults, it would’ve been career suicide, but this girl apparently only uses ecological lube and dildos or some shit, and AJ loves that stuff.
So really, history would show that this is not, in fact, a perfect plan.
So why can’t I refute it?
“Look,” he goes on, and stands while holding his palms out to me.
“I need to go get something to eat before I hit the gym with Appleton and Johnson later, so you think about this.” I really don’t appreciate him gesturing at the whole room.
“Carefully,” he adds for some great reason I’m sure.
“The offer’s there and I think this could be fun. ”
Then he’s shining down that perfect sunny smile on me, the one the whole country melts for. Even those who hate the Los Angeles Warriors fall at his feet at the sight of that smile, and what’s worse is that it’s genuine.
He’s probably the kindest soul I’ve ever met, and yes, that includes my saint of a mother.
My mom . . .
“No, don’t say no yet,” he shouts suddenly and his palms go up again. My guess is that he saw my face fall at the thought of her.
She still lives in Gomillion.
I can’t go there and not see her, and if I pretend I’m with AJ at the reunion, of course she’ll find out, so I’ll have to tell her beforehand if I don’t want to get my head chewed off.
And I would for sure get my behind spanked—grown man or not—if I tell her I’m lying to everyone just to spite one mean asshole, so we’d have to pretend in front of her too.
“Why are you so pale all of a sudden?” AJ asks when I still can’t speak.
“My mom.” My voice comes out scratchy. “We’d have to lie to her. She wouldn’t be okay with us faking anything.”
AJ’s face also loses some color, and I see his throat work on a hard swallow, but then he straightens.
That determined glint in his eyes and the power behind them is why he’s such a force to be reckoned with on the field. Here, though, in my office, facing the possibility that I might actually disappoint my mom, which is something I’ve never done . . . here it’s scary as fuck.
“Yes, we would have to lie to her and everyone else in your hometown, but she’d understand a few months later. Once it’s past, I bet she’d even find it funny.”
I can’t stop my uncertain grimace at that.
AJ knows Rosa Jameson well, but not as well as I do.
“She’d be disappointed in me,” I murmur.
“Does she know what that asshole did to you?”
“No,” I cry, outraged at the thought of her ever finding out. “I was deep in the closet and only came out to her after college. I couldn’t have said anything to her after that disaster.”
“So that motherfucker traumatized you enough that you hid for what? Five more years?” Well, that tone doesn’t bode well for me. “Fuck that. We’re gonna show him,” he mutters and shakes his head while frowning. And this time, the frown doesn’t seem as wrong on his face anymore.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I admit quietly, though again, I’m not sure why I’m not discounting it completely.
“Well, you can think about it. We’ve got time.”
“And you have a winning season to focus on, so get out of here.” I wave lazily at the door.
“Okay,” he says, but he stares at me with his worried look and bites down on his lower lip.
“I’ll be fine, AJ.” I roll my eyes at him.
“Yeah, I know,” he tells me softly. “Just think about it, okay? Maybe talk it through with Lindsey. I’ve been told I’m a great boyfriend.” The smirk that should always be on his face comes out then.
“By who?” I demand. “You’ve never had a really serious girlfriend.”
“All of them. They all wanted the serious bit, and because I always act like a gentleman they thought I wanted that too, even though I was just being myself.”
That sounds like him, but I have to shake my head.
“Only you’d get broken up with because you’re too much of a good guy while not committing.”
“What can I say?” He spreads his arms wide. “I like being untamed.” Then the little shit winks at me, and this time when he turns, he finally leaves.
I stare at the closed door for a long while, and then I look at the invitation again.
What the fuck am I going to do?
I could talk about it with Lindsey, like he suggested.
She’s my number two here at J&Co. and one of the few people I trust in our industry.
She’s honestly one of my few friends, and I know she would give me great advice, but I don’t feel ready yet to talk to anyone about this, not when they can see my face and . . . well, she knows me so fucking well.
We started out together straight out of college.
Her a woman and me a black gay guy, we were both singled out sometimes, and could both understand why we each had it hard.
We supported each other through it all, and I don’t know if I’d have taken the jump into opening J&Co. if she hadn’t agreed to join me.
I think it’s telling that I’m hesitating so much to talk to her about this, but right now I refuse to think about it any deeper. Instead, I focus on thinking about it, like AJ said. It seems like the logical thing to do, and I do have time before I have to RSVP, so . . .
An idea pops into my head, and I know that if there’s one person who can either tell me the one reason why I shouldn’t even be thinking about this or can back us up at the reunion, it’s Caden—and he can’t see or hear me if I text him, so that’s going to save me some embarrassment.
Caden also has one very good reason for potentially wanting to avoid going to the reunion.
Cam:
Hey, can you talk?
Caden:
I’m guessing this is about the invite to the reunion?
Cam:
Yes.
How the hell am I supposed to explain the fucked-up conversation I just had and AJ’s insane proposal? He writes back before I can figure it out.
Caden:
Are you going?
Cam:
I don’t know.
AJ was here when I got the email, and to make a long story short, he suggested he should pretend to be my boyfriend for the weekend so I don’t miss out on it.
High school reunions are the best thing in the world, apparently.
Two minutes go by and I can only watch the dots appear and disappear, until finally a message comes through.
Caden:
First, that sounds like him.
Second, wtf?
Is this because of Soren?
Aaaand he hit the nail on the head.
Cam:
Triple bingo for you.
I know he’ll interpret the sarcasm, so I don't bother with emojis.
Caden:
It’s not the worst idea.
I know how badly he fucked you up.
Those words are enough to bring back the pain, the embarrassment, the sheer humiliation one can only fully feel in high school.
Did he fuck me up?
Well of course he did.
In hindsight I can see how much I changed in that moment, how the way I looked at the world changed.
He stole something from me, and I’ve been trying to get it back ever since. There have been some glimpses, of course.
Like when I got my first job out of college and became Caden’s agent, or well, the employee of his agent.
When I managed to push my way back into Caden’s life a decade ago.
When I opened J&Co.
I just want to finally get over that fucking night.
I want to forget everything Soren said to me.
I want to find my old self again.
Is confronting him with my “perfect” life going to do that?
Well, there’s no way to know for sure.
But . . .
Cam:
Are you going?
Shifting my thoughts is best right now, I think, and supporting Caden is more important. This is bound to be hard on him.
Caden:
I don’t know.
Cam:
Just think of it this way.
If you go, you can witness AJ and me pretending to be in love.
Caden:
Now that is tempting.
I smile down at my phone.
We’re just bullshitting of course, but the thought that we might both find some peace after this reunion is definitely something to smile about.
And if we can catch up with Barker, Bailey, and Rivers, then that would be pretty cool too.