13. Ryan #2
“Excellent. We’ve just been given offices, and while this is a new department, we’re very excited to see the team embracing more DEI policies.
What with things the way they are in the world, we need to see more professional athletes and their teams standing with the LGBTQ community instead of pulling back.
And since we have two other players here who are also in same-sex relationships, perhaps we could all have a nice chat upstairs in the owner’s box with some of our social media people to develop ways to share the news that the Copperheads do not and will not sanction any kind of hatred or bigotry either on the team, the staff, or in the stands,” Tivida said with passion.
Then she blushed. “Sorry, my wife tells me that I get on my soapbox at the drop of a hat.”
“No, hey, it’s great. I thought I’d be hit with all kinds of hate when I showed up this morning,” I confessed.
“Not on my watch,” Dad and Gideon said in unison.
We all chuckled before being escorted to the upper tier where we had an hour with four queer staffers talking, taking pictures, and discussing how to go forward now that I’d been so brave.
That kind of ballsy behavior needed to be heralded, according to Tivida, and so, with signed permission from me, it was agreed the Copperheads would share my image on their social media accounts, and the bigots could go fuck themselves.
Not only Tivida’s words, but all of ours.
I never would have thought things could work out so well.
Still, I’d do my best not to go on my social media for a few days.
I had other things to do like work, go to group where I was pretty sure I’d have to explain what had taken place to that unsuspecting faction, and prepare for an admissions interview in a week.
It seemed daunting, but with so much support from the team and its employees, I knew I could handle whatever life threw at me with a clear mind.
Just to be sure, I made a vow to myself not to read any comments on the Copperheads’ social media pages for a few days. Or weeks. Maybe months…
“So, what was this idea you had?”
I glanced up from fishing a bite of chicken from our huge bowl of ramen to smile at Gideon seated across from me.
Instead of taking the slice for myself, I held it out for him with my chopsticks.
He grinned, leaned way over the now lukewarm bowl, and opened his mouth.
With infinite care, I fed him like a baby bird.
We were already turning into goofy romantics, and Gids didn’t seem to mind.
I found that super appealing in so many ways.
When the food was swallowed, he moved over the table a bit more to kiss me before sitting back down.
I found those kisses super appealing too.
“Okay, so I have this interview in five days. I’m kind of stressing because I have no practical knowledge of cosmetology to show them or anything in my past to recommend me as a potential student.
I mean, being a recovering addict is hardly going to get them to admit me to their program, and honestly that’s my whole past.”
“It’s not your whole past, Ryan, it’s just part of it. Like my depression isn’t who I am, it’s just a part of me.”
“I know. I know, but I’d still like to go in with some sort of portfolio.” I fished around in the bowl to find some noodles then lifted the dripping mass to my mouth.
“But isn’t that the whole point of school?
To teach you what you don’t know so that you then know it and take it out into the world?
” His chopsticks bumped mine as he searched for another slice of egg.
I looked up while sucking noodles into my face.
He snickered when a short one flew up to bonk me on the nose.
He dabbed at my nose with his napkin. I never flinched. My trust in this man was limitless now.
“Yeah, of course,” I said after chewing then swallowing.
The rattle of pans in the kitchen floated by on a richly scented, heated gust. “But I thought if I could show them my hand at makeup and hair in a portfolio, even a thin one, it might give them something to focus on besides my not-so-glorious past.”
“Okay, well, if you think that will help you feel more prepared, what can I do to help?”
I fed him another slice of chicken before answering, “I’d like to ask you to maybe possibly ask the players if—”
His blue eyes flared as he rushed to chew. “Ryan, baby, I adore you, but I’m not sure I can ask the guys to let you put glitter on their faces.”
“What? Oh. Oh! No, no, not the players. I mean, unless they’re super confident in their masculinity, then sure I’d be happy to make them up.
No, I was wondering if the WAGs would be willing to let me do them up.
Free hair and makeup day. I’d supply the cosmetics and some snacks.
Maybe some punch. You know, like a girls-only event.
I’d take photos when we were done for my interview.
What do you think? Would you be willing to ask the guys to ask their gals? ”
He gave me a smile that made my toes curl in my tiny flats. “I’d be willing to walk over hot coals to see you happy, baby.”
I fed him all the chicken just because he was so damn amazing.