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Down By Contact (Wilmington Breakers Book 1) Page 7
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Page 7
I startled when the doorbell buzzed. Very few people knew I lived here, which meant it was likely someone trying to sell me shit I didn’t want. I placed an empty beer bottle on the kitchen counter on my way to the front door. When I opened it, I was greeted with deShawn leaning against the doorjamb. “Huh, you don’t look sick.”
“What?”
deShawn pushed past me, inviting himself to grab a beer from the fridge. I followed him through to the back deck, mirroring his position against the railing. “Well, you live right down the street from our place, but you’re holed up here instead of cutting loose for a change. I’m pretty sure I haven’t done anything to piss you off yet this year, so that means you’re either immune to having fun, which I know is bullshit, or you’re sick.”
“It’s not that,” I told him. This was my chance. I could say those two little words to deShawn and the truth would be out there. If he was disgusted with me and didn’t want me at his place, there’d be no awkward moments. Griffin and the camera guy following deShawn weren’t here, which meant it was one of the few times we’d have true privacy. I could tell deShawn and it’d just be us. It wouldn’t be anything that came across as scripted for the cameras. I wouldn’t have to wonder if he schooled his reaction so he didn’t come off as a prick. If I was going to take Coach’s advice, this was the perfect scenario. “I… uh… I’ve had some shit on my mind.”
“Such as?” he asked, turning to give me his full attention. “Look, I know we aren’t super close and shit, but you’re a good kid. You need to work on opening up a bit to your teammates, but I think you know that.”
“Yeah, that’s a big part of what’s been bugging me,” I admitted. I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes, reminding myself that in all the times I’d come out, nothing bad had happened. There were no horror stories in my past, nothing to justify the anxiety I felt every time I steeled myself to go through this again. I turned to the beach, unable to look at deShawn as I spoke my truth. “The reason I’ve kept my distance is because I haven’t been honest with you guys about who I am. And I was always worried that if I got too close, someone would figure out I’d been lying and I’d be the outcast.”
“Damn, that’s heavy shit,” deShawn interrupted. He had no clue. I hadn’t even uttered the words that mattered yet. “Whatever’s going on, you can tell us. We’re a team, man. You’ve gotta know that by now.”
“I do, but I also know being a team doesn’t mean everyone’s accepted for who they are,” I countered.
“Well, why don’t you tell me what the fuck’s got you all twisted and we’ll go from there,” he suggested. “It’s probably a lot worse in your head than it really is.”
“Yeah?” I responded sarcastically, my defenses rising quickly. “You think being gay isn’t a big deal? You think I’m making up all the problems that’s going to cause for me? Look at Michael Sam. He tried being open with his teammates and never played a regular season game. He got booted and sent to Canada. Years from now, he’ll be nothing more than the first gay guy to try to play football.”
I stumbled backwards when deShawn shoved me. I gaped at him, wondering what in the fuck was going on. He didn’t seem pissed. He looked more hurt than anything else. “Man, that’s it? You’re into dudes?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I scoffed. “You say it like it’s not a big deal.”
“Because it’s not,” he confirmed. “At least, it’s not to me. And the first person to give you shit for it when I’m around’s not going to know what hit them. Man, I’ve got years of kicking homophobic ass. I’ve got your back.” Now I was the one who was stunned. What in the hell did he mean by that? “My little brother’s gay. Not only that, but he’s what they call gender fluid. I don’t know what all that means, but I do know that he’s much more comfortable in his own skin when he’s wearing women’s clothes and makeup. But he swears he’s not transgender or whatever that’s called. Seriously, it’s way too many vocabulary terms for me to soak up. But at the end of the day, he’s still Desi. He’s still my brother. And I don’t put up with anyone giving him a hard time. Just like I won’t let anyone say shit about you.”
Wow. I swallowed hard, feeling my emotions getting the better of me. That might’ve been the most deShawn had ever told me about his personal life. Then again, I hadn’t exactly acted like I wanted to know more about him than who he was on the field. “Damn, now I feel like an idiot for holding back last year. You have to know it’s not that I didn’t trust you or any of the other guys. I just… I saw the shit that happened in the past and didn’t want to be another media sensation. I don’t want to be a headline, unless it’s for breaking a record.”
“I get it,” deShawn assured me. He cocked his head toward the house and we walked inside. “Now, get your ass changed, because my wife will have my balls if I don’t get back down there. She’s cool with the guys coming over, but not with having to babysit them.”
When we got to deShawn’s, I realized I’d had nothing to worry about. I’d expected it to be a huge bash, but it was mostly the older players and their families hanging out. The kids were down by the beach building sand castles, the wives keeping a close eye on them. The guys were in the middle of a pick-up game and they hooted and hollered when I kicked off my shoes to join them. deShawn squeezed my shoulder as he did the same. “Remember what I said. When the time comes for you to tell the other guys, I’ve got your back. And those guys, they will too. I don’t invite just anyone over to my house. I don’t do drama and this isn’t a frat house. We’re all adults here.”
“Thanks, man.”
The summer sun beat down on my skin and it didn’t take long before I stripped out of my T-shirt. As I tossed it away from where we were playing, my eyes caught Griffin’s for a brief moment. It took everything in me to not abandon the game to find out why in the hell he was here. When he’d taken off after my little tantrum earlier, I was sure I wouldn’t see him again today. I wanted to apologize, needed to beg him to give me time to adjust to all the changes occurring in my own mind. And because I wasn’t paying the slightest attention to the game, I was completely caught off guard when a football pegged me in the side of the head. “Damn, Kendricks, hope that’s not your game plan for this season. In case you forgot, your job is to catch the ball and run.”
The rest of the guys busted into peals of laughter at Wiley’s teasing. I flipped them all off and excused myself to get something to drink. Griffin followed me up to the house, his attention still on the camera in his hands. It would’ve been the perfect time for us to talk, but I wasn’t supposed to talk to him when the camera was rolling. He’d gotten upset a couple times when I’d tried interacting with him, so I was trying hard to do things right so he wouldn’t get in trouble. But fuck, it was hard knowing he was staring at me, watching me, and I couldn’t turn around and ask if he was enjoying the view. I couldn’t tell him that I’d come out to deShawn. I couldn’t admit to him that, by the end of the night, this core group would all know they were sharing the locker room with a gay man.
Now that I wasn’t freaking out about how my teammates would react if they caught me watching Griffin a little too long, I took a moment to think about what it’d be like to have him there without the camera. What it’d mean to have someone I could introduce to these guys.
“Hey, Zach,” Tarsha greeted me when I stepped into the kitchen. The sweet lilt in her voice felt like a jab to the gut. Even though I’d tried to keep a professional distance from my teammates, deShawn’s wife acted like I belonged here, like I’d always been one of the guys. She wiped her hands on a towel and came over to give me a quick hug. I tensed and she immediately backed away. “Sorry, I sometimes forget that you guys aren’t the touchy-feely type. I’m a hugger.”
“It’s cool,” I told her. “Just not what I was expecting.” Now, I felt like a dick for being uncomfortable. I quickly grabbed a beer, hoping to sneak back outside before things got any more awkward. I almost made it to the formal
dining room that looked out toward the ocean before we jumped straight into the sea of uncomfortable.
“I hope you’re not upset, but deShawn told me what you said when he dragged you down here,” she said. “I want you to know I’m proud of you. I know that’s not the type of thing he’d say, but you need to hear it.”
“Thanks, Tarsha.” I choked up a bit again. Fuck, maybe it’d be easier if they were all assholes. At least then I’d have been justified in holding this all in. I glanced around, but didn’t see Griffin anywhere. That was for the best, because I could almost hear him crowing about how he was right and I was wrong, and how I’d fucked up everything between us for nothing.
“No reason to thank me,” she said, much closer this time. I turned to see her balancing several platters of food, so I set down my drink and reached out to help her. “People like to talk about how it doesn’t matter who someone loves, but that’s a bunch of crap, if you ask me. It’s not easy knowing you’re going to come across people who are going to tell you how sick and wrong you are for loving who you do. It takes balls. Big ones. Did he tell you about Desi?”
I nodded, still trying to process how surreal this whole day was. deShawn showed up right then and playfully scolded his wife to quit making me work. I assured him it wasn’t a problem, but he pulled me away, leading me to where the guys were huddled around a pile of wood, trying to get a fire going. In my opinion, it was still too early, and too damn hot, for a fire, but tonight I was just along for the ride. If this was what they normally did, I was going to kick back and enjoy it. I kept glancing around, trying to figure out where Griffin and the other guy had disappeared to. Six professional athletes trying to get a fire going seemed much more entertaining than watching me unpack boxes, and yet they were missing it. Or they were lurking somewhere out of view, like nature documentary crews in the jungle. That made me chuckle, thinking about them quietly narrating what they were seeing through the lens.
“What’s so damn funny, Kendricks?” Wiley teased. Last year, I thought he was a prick, but now I was wondering if that’d been my defense mechanisms holding him at a distance. Tonight, he seemed much more relaxed. Or maybe that was me, too. “We’re ball players, not Boy Scouts. You think it’s easy, why don’t you come over here and get it going.”
It didn’t take long to see the problem. They had a ton of wood, but no kindling. I gathered some dry twigs and brush, and shoved it in the gaps at the bottom of the pile. My teammates stood back as I worked, mumbling amongst themselves about how the new guy was going to save the day. I held out my hand for a lighter and held it to the brush. It took a few tries, but eventually, the fire started to grow and I was hailed as a hero. Griffin appeared at the edge of the beach without his camera. I excused myself and headed down to talk to him. I owed him an apology for what I’d said earlier. I knew damn well he took his job seriously.
“Hey,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out to touch him. I couldn’t help myself, it was a nearly automatic reaction when we were this close. And I hated the way my body was still drawn to him like a magnet. “You seem to be missing your camera.”
“Yeah, Liam told me to take the rest of the night off,” he responded. “I’m going to head down to the hotel, but I need to get a bag I forgot at your place, first.”
“You don’t have to go,” I told him. “I know I was an ass earlier, but I don’t want you feeling like you have to stay at the hotel. I meant it when I told you you’re welcome to take the top floor. Would it help if I promise I’ll try to keep the shitty comments to a minimum from now on?”
Griffin shrugged. “It’s not that,” he lied. He was a worse liar than my brother, and that was saying something. Griffin wore his emotions on his sleeve and I knew my accusations stung.
“Then what is it?” I urged. The guys hollered for me to get my ass up to the house for some food before it was gone, but I waved them off. Now that I wasn’t hiding from the entire world, something was shifting in my mind. I was starting to think more about the past and how to truly fix things between me and Griffin. Sure, we were talking now, but it wasn’t like it used to be. And yeah, I’d been the one to say we weren’t going back to that, but now I was the one wishing we could. All because deShawn hadn’t been an ass when I’d come out to him. Because on the walk back to his place, he’d kept reminding me it was cool if there was someone special in my life that I wanted to bring to the party. I’d told him there wasn’t, but that was only because I couldn’t admit to him that I was in love with Griffin without explaining our shared past. And that still felt too personal, almost sacred, in my mind.
“Not now, Zach,” Griffin pleaded. “You have to get back to the party and I need to go. If you stay over here much longer, someone’s going to start asking questions.”
“Let ’em. I don’t care at this point,” I responded confidently. “I already told deShawn that I’m gay and I’m going to tell everyone else later. I just have to find a way to work it into the conversation. I don’t wanna stand up and make it some huge announcement. Maybe me talking to you will help them start figuring it out.”
“We can’t do that,” he insisted. “I know you’re trying to make this easy on yourself, but if my bosses think there’s something going on between us, I’m out of a job. Unlike you, some of us still struggle to make ends meet most months.”
“Do you need help?” I asked without hesitation. Having money wasn’t as easy for me as a lot of people thought it should be. I was uncomfortable knowing I had this huge balance in my checking account and Nate had invested even more to make sure I was set whenever football ended. I had everything I needed and then some, but other people had nothing.
“I don’t want your charity, Zach.” Griffin was pissed now. He shoved me back, probably forgetting there were other people around, some of whom were there solely to catch drama on tape. “Fuck you for thinking I was asking for a handout. I’m out. I need to calm down before I say something stupid.”
“Yeah, because that’s my job.” I tried for playful, but I was sure I sounded whiny instead. I reached into my pocket and held out my keychain. “Please, just go back to my place. There’s no reason for you to stay in a crappy hotel when you have the whole third floor to yourself. When I get home, maybe we can talk a little bit more.”
“There’s nothing left to say, Zach.” My own words from earlier in the week came back to haunt me. “The past is the past, and it’s there for a reason. Now, go back to your buddies. I’ll see you later.”
Nine
(Griffin)
I stared at the bonfire in the distance, wishing Zach would make up his damn mind about whether he just wanted to see if we could be friends or if he wanted to fuck out the residual anger and hate so we could move on with our lives. This hot and cold bullshit was getting old in a hurry. It was a good thing he was out with his friends, because there was far too much I wanted to say but couldn’t. I went back to the book I’d been trying to read for the past few hours, promising myself this time I’d read more than two pages before setting it in my lap again because I was too focused on worrying whether Zach had told the rest of his teammates about himself.
If I was as dedicated to my job as I claimed to be, I’d have given Liam a heads-up on what was going to happen so he’d be sure to get it on tape, but I was secretly hoping he’d miss it. I wanted Zach to come out without worrying about it being used as a promotional teaser leading up to the season premiere of the show. I hated having any part in what was certain to turn into a huge spectacle for him.
The irony of wishing he could hold off just a few more months before coming out after the way I used to hound him about living an honest, authentic life wasn’t lost on me. The show would end with the start of the regular season, and then he could tell those who needed to know without anyone wanting to exploit his sexuality. And Liam’s behavior today told me production had already caught wind of what was going on and that was exactly what they were hoping to do. Th
ey needed high enough ratings for the league to keep forcing a team to participate every year, and the league needed a way to prove they were better than the other league, which had totally botched their own handling of a gay player. Everyone needed Zach to do this, and I wasn’t sure he even realized what was going on. The more I thought about it, the sicker I felt.
By eleven, I’d worked myself into a full-blown tizzy. I wanted to stalk down the beach and pull him away, hopefully before he said anything to anyone. I’d plead my case with him and hopefully he’d be willing to listen to me. But as far as everyone knew, I was just a cameraman, a stranger, an outsider. It’d raise even more questions if I interrupted. And it’d cost me my job. As much as I was starting to hate the assignment, I needed the paycheck.
My phone buzzed on the table next to me. I picked it up to see a new text message from Zach. You home? Miss you.
Home. I felt as though I’d slipped into an alternate reality. That was the only explanation for him saying he missed me. And referring to his place as home. This wasn’t home, it was his home, and we both needed to remember that.
Yes, I’m at your house, I responded.
I’m glad you didn’t leave.