Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend #4)(65)
“Damn straight,” Talon says proudly.
Maddox appears as we’re taking our seats and places a large bowl of pasta in the middle of the table. The white sauce smells deliciously garlicky, and Talon and I try to beat each other to the serving spoon. He wins and grins at me triumphantly.
“It’s your last contracted year with the Warriors, right?” Damon asks and pours me a glass of wine.
I look at Talon, asking for permission to drink said wine, and he gives me a look—one that says “Drink that, and you’ll be heading to the gym when we get home.”
After the all-day sex marathon, there’s no way I’ll be going home to have sex again, so I think fuck it. I’ll go for a run later.
I turn to Damon. “Yeah. It’s why I have to get my leg back to one hundred percent. The chance of being ditched this year is higher.”
“What’s Hewitt and Locke doing to secure your position?”
The question is a valid one, but it only makes me realize they’re doing nothing to help my situation.
“I haven’t heard from them since the initial injury. I called when I had my second surgery and left a message, but they never called back. I got an email thanking me for the update, but that was it.”
Damon frowns. “They haven’t spoken about sponsorships or endorsement deals with you?”
“I’m not a big enough name for any huge endorsement deals.”
“No, but companies still pay athletes to wear their gear, get papped wearing it, and have their product all over the tabloids.”
I’d have to be in public for that to happen.
“Or with your injury, you could endorse rehab equipment or—”
I knew not hearing from my agent wasn’t a good thing, but I haven’t even thought about what they could’ve been doing in the meantime.
Talon speaks up. “Maybe you should look at how to get out of your contract with Hewitt and Locke.”
That surprises me, because I assumed he’d tell me to be loyal. He’s been with Touchstone Sports and the same agent since he was drafted, whereas I’ve had a couple now. Still with my same firm, but I get passed around, because I’m not one of the big guys. Offensive tackles are the second-highest-paid players in the league next to quarterbacks, but like quarterbacks, you have to be one of the greats to earn that type of money and respect, and I’m not there yet.
“You think so?” I ask Talon. I hadn’t thought about leaving my agency, but we haven’t discussed the future either. It’s like they’re avoiding me.
“It sounds like Damon could do a lot more for you.”
Damon does make sense, and he does seem more competent than my current agent. We’re just numbers on Hewitt and Locke’s roster. They don’t care like Damon seems to. But something about the way Talon says it, it makes me think—
“Wait. Are you saying this because you think I’m not going to be ready for the season?”
One look at Talon’s guilt written across his face, and I realize that he does think I won’t be ready.
“I’m not saying that, but it won’t hurt to have a backup plan. That’s all I’m saying.”
He’s being smart, I know that, but it stings a little.
I take a sip of wine. “I’ll talk to my agent.”
“Whoa there,” Maddox says. “I remember telling you to go with Damon months ago. What makes you think he has room for you now you’re still broken?”
Talon scowls, but Damon breaks into laughter.
I smile too. “This is one of those times I’m supposed to ignore Maddox, right?”
Damon nods. “Definitely. I’ll be happy to sign you if you’re on board. I don’t want to be a downer, but by the sound of it, they might be looking to drop you if they don’t care about your injury.”
“How so?”
“It’s what they do. I know from personal experience and from witnessing it at my own firm. Injuries are hard to sell to teams and are too much work for some people. I often wonder if I had a supportive agent if I might’ve tried to rehab my injury instead of giving up. I won’t let you give up.”
We talk about my future some more, and as easy as that, Talon and I walk away from dinner a couple of hours later, me with a possible new agent and Talon with the knowledge that he can go a few hours without touching me.
When we get into the car, Talon hesitates with the key in the ignition. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, why would I be mad?”
“Because I said you might not be ready for the season. It’s not that I think you can’t do it. I just—”
I reach for his arm. “I’m not completely na?ve or in denial. There’s still a lot of work to go. I’ll never be mad at you for telling me the truth.”
“Damon really does seem like a great fit for you. Actually, he seems like a one-of-kind-type agent. He’s gonna do some great things for queer athletes.”
“He already has.”
“Okay. Now home to hit the treadmill for an hour.”
I groan even though I knew it was coming.
Chapter Twenty-Five
TALON
I have this thing. While watching movies, during an action sequence or something exciting, I don’t watch the screen. I watch the face of whoever I’m watching it with.