Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend #4)(78)

The article goes on and mentions our stats and the highlights from our careers, and the entire article reaffirms everything I’ve already known but has been drowned out by doubts and other people’s negativity, but it’s the last paragraph that kicks me in the ass and in the gut.

“It’s not easy—loving someone you know other people will have opinions about. It’s not easy being anything society doesn’t expect you to be. But when you’re with the person who was literally created with the sole purpose of being your other half, there’s no way to fight it. There’s only the choice to hide it or face it together, and I want to fight every battle and overcome every obstacle with Miller. I want us to help pave the way for others to be who they want to be and love who they want to love.”





Talon’s words are everything I’ve wanted to hear for so long, but my cautious side hasn’t allowed me to believe it. Waiting for him to freak out, to change his mind, to tell me we don’t belong together after all … I’ve been held back by my own disbelief.

But there it is in black and white. The thing I needed but hadn’t realized.

Talon loves me.

Is that a fix to the problem? No. Are we still going to have to face everything I’m freaking out about? Yes.

Only, facing it doesn’t seem as daunting now.

One L-word shouldn’t change anything, but in my head, it changes everything.

Noah clears his throat, bringing me out of my revelation. “Matt’s not handling this well.”

My stomach sinks. “The Henderson stuff?”

“He thought he was making a difference and that there were no problems with the team. He had buried his issues with Carter and thought everything was fine. Now Henderson is making him question everyone. I don’t want to put pressure on you to come out—that’s not what this is about—but on the off chance you guys are still worried for his sake, I want you to know it might actually be good for him.”

It doesn’t have anything to do with Jackson, and I can’t help feeling guilty and selfish over that. He needs our support.

“Is he okay?” I ask.

A coy smile crosses Noah’s face. “I’m there to comfort him. Constantly.”

“It’s true. I live directly below their bedroom.” Lennon turns to Noah. “Why do you think I’m spending most nights at Ollie’s?”

“Like you’re not doing the same thing over there,” Noah says.

“True, but he doesn’t have any roommates.”

The pang of jealousy that hits me at them casually talking about their relationships makes me realize I’m a fucking coward. But being closeted isn’t the coward part. I’m running away from what-ifs, and that’s no way to live.





Chapter Twenty-Nine





TALON





The idea of coming to L.A. to sort this shit between my agent and me is proving to be useless. I’ve probably spent more time on the phone with them than sitting in their offices, and every time I’ve spoken to one of Alan’s partners about the situation, they’ve expressed their concerns about me coming out. One even called a publicist and put them on speaker phone so I could hear their thoughts on a hypothetical NFL superstar coming out.

They said after Jackson another coming out might be pushing our luck. One is something that can be handled, but two could cause boycotts.

Whoever says the world is different now is full of shit.

One of the agents decide to lecture me for an hour on sports not being the only fucked-up industry. Musicians, actors, and the whole entertainment industry is still full of closeted stars.

Anyone in the public eye is open to scrutiny, which is why coming out is still a big deal when it shouldn’t be.

The one young partner who isn’t over the age of fifty sees where I’m coming from and sympathizes, but even he expressed concerns.

I’ve been in contact with Damon, and he hasn’t been able to find any escape clause in the contract, but he suggested I get a contract lawyer out here to go over it too.

It seems the fight’s already begun, and I haven’t even officially come out yet.

And this is exactly what Miller is worried about. I understand it, I do, and being out here on my own has kind of driven his point home.

So even though I miss Miller like crazy, my slightly crushed ego is preventing me from calling him and telling him he was right. I don’t want to call him until I have a solution.

“How much can I pay them to go away?” I ask my newly appointed lawyer.

He sits behind his big desk in his fancy law firm and purses his lips. He looks as frustrated as I am. Then again, he’s about to make a lot of money off me, so maybe he’s happy they’re fighting this and feigning sympathy.

Miller’s voice echoes in my head: Everything comes easy to you, and you’ve never had to fight for anything.

Now, here I am, trying to pay off my problems, and I want to take it back immediately. If Miller’s going to have faith in us, then he needs to know I’m not going to do the easy fix.

“There’s nothing in your contract saying you can’t get outside representation, but any jobs your second agent gets you, you’re obligated to pay ten percent to Alan’s firm until your contract with the Warriors is up.”