by Saxon James
“Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Even with his snappy tone, I have to hold back a laugh. “Kinda sounds like you aren’t.”
“I told him he should have warned you,” Liam says sympathetically.
Elliot nods. “You should have, so why didn’t you?”
I shrug. “Didn’t want to risk you getting pissed and running off.”
“So, you knew I’d be pissed.”
“Figured it would be a pretty normal reaction. But also, I’m glad you two can meet. Liam’s been my friend a long time. And—” I drop my voice. “I want you in my life. I wasn’t lying about that.”
The tension in Elliot’s shoulders eases and he casts a wary look at Liam. “He’s cuter than me.”
I burst out laughing, and finally, Elliot cracks a smile.
Liam straightens up a little. “You won’t hear me arguing.”
The smile melts from Elliot’s face, but he doesn’t look as guarded as before. “This is weird, right? I know I’m not much for relationships, but this is weird.”
“I guess…” I finally let go of his hand, not wanting to draw too much attention to us. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I really wanted to see you.”
Elliot sucks in a long breath, staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds before he finally rolls his eyes and picks up a menu. “So, what’s good here?”
***
It doesn’t take long for Liam and Elliot to warm up to each other, and while I know they’ll never be best friends, at least they’re making an effort to be civil. Elliot keeps on surprising me. And maybe it’s wrong of me to read into it, but he stuck around.
We drive back to my place separately, and even away from him, I can sense the unease that was clear through his phone call and the way he’d check out of the conversation at lunch. Something’s on his mind, and I really want to drill down and get him to trust that he can unload whatever it is onto me. I want to be that guy for him.
Elliot’s already waiting at my front door, and the second we step inside, he pulls me to him, burying his face in my chest. I’m glad he can’t see my face because I’m sure all it registers is complete and total surprise. I don’t know when—if ever—he’s been the first one to be openly affectionate. Down to fuck, always. But this? Standing here… hugging.
My arms circle his shoulders and pull him in tight, giving him what I hope he needs, and we stand there together for a couple of minutes until his breathing is slow and relaxed.
“Want to go up?” I ask softly.
He nods and takes my hand, leading me through my own house. And I’m not sure why it makes me feel all warm inside, but I’m here for more of it.
Elliot drops my hand when I get upstairs and makes a beeline straight for my kitchen. Since we decided he could drop over whenever, I’ve made sure there’s always wine chilled for him and he grabs it from the fridge, along with two glasses.
“None for me.”
He cuts me a look. “Trust me, you’re going to want one.”
His dark tone instantly fills me with panic. Even though he didn’t sound right earlier, I didn’t think it had anything to do with us, but now… I nod, numbly. If he’s about to break up with me, I’m definitely going to want a drink.
A lump forms in my throat, and even when he hands over the full glass, I can’t bring myself to take a sip. Not wanting to know, I ask anyway. “What’s…” I clear my throat. “What’s going on?”
Elliot sighs, taking my hand and walking us both over to the couch. He sits close, but it doesn’t do a whole lot to ease my anxiety.
Elliot doesn’t have the same reservations as me when it comes to drinking and his glass is half-empty in a couple of sips. “Something shitty happened, and I haven’t known how much to tell you. But… more keeps coming up, and more, and now… well, I’m torn about something, but since it has to do with you too, you have to help me make the decision.”
I frown, but some of the tension seeps from my shoulders, just a little. “That was about as clear as mud.”
A smile slips onto his lips. “Sorry, you’re right. I—argh—I don’t know how much to say.”
“Start from the beginning.”
His face screws up a little as he seems to get his thoughts in order. When he leans forward to place his glass on the table, I mimic him, then pull him closer so I can hold him but still see his face.
“My boss is pissed.”
I nod. “We suspected. What’s he done?”
“He… Taryn, he has photos. Of us.”
As the words sink in, my entire body stiffens. “When you say—”
“Making out. Groping each other. And your face is especially clear, so there’d be no way to deny what’s happening.”
Oh damn. My stomach drops, then drops some more. The lump in my throat gets bigger and starts to strangle me. I don’t know what kind of response I have to that, but even if I could voice something, it probably wouldn’t be very nice. I pull back a little, needing some room to breathe.
“Taryn, I’m sorry.”
One glance at Elliot’s face, though, and my heart throbs. He looks panicked, and no matter how I might be feeling right now, I don’t want him going through whatever is making him look that way. I shake my head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We were both there. I’m sure we both contributed to the pictures.”
“Well, yeah, but the pictures wouldn’t have been taken if it wasn’t for me making such a shitty call.”
“Maybe not, but I was careless.” I puff out a huge gust of air, leaning my elbows on my knees as I smother my face in my hands. “How long do I have?”
“What do you mean?”
I peek out at him. “I’m assuming your boss is going to sell the photos, so how long do I have before my life turns into a massive shitstorm?”
Elliot bites his lip, and I can tell he wants to reach for me. That’s something, I guess. “The thing is, he’s mostly using them to keep me in line. I don’t think he’ll release them if I don’t fuck up again, but…”
“But?”
“This is the part I need your help with.”
He has my attention now, and I spin to face him. “Okay?”
“There have been some things happening, certain, ah, bets, that aren’t adding up.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact your team is the favorite by a massive margin, yet all my high rollers are betting against you.”
Not knowing much about betting, his words don’t bring me as much alarm as he’s clearly feeling. “You might need to explain a little more.”
“Okay.” He runs his fingers over his hair, gathering the loose strands back and tucking them under the band. “I might only be a baby bookie, but I’ve learned a lot very quickly, which is why I’ve been handling bigger clients than I probably should be. The thing is, I’m known for being the one to make people money. They trust my judgement and, other than a few random long shots here and there, they generally bet where I want them to. This week… no one is. I think…” His attention drops from me to his lap. “I’m not even sure if I should say since it directly affects your game…”
I’m about to push him anyway, but I pause. He’s right. If it affects my team, it could affect my game, and do I really want that? But if people are betting against us… Fuck it. I can’t not know. “Okay, tell me. I can always try to forget it if I don’t like what I hear.”
“Oh, I promise you won’t like it.”
I don’t respond, but I nod at him to continue.
“Bear in mind, this is totally a theory and I could be way off base, but… I think the game might be rigged.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, not for sure. It’s been a weird week, but the guys I’ve been talking to, there’s no dissuading them. Don’t get me wrong, the majority of my clients are betting on you guys and hoping for some easy money, but the big
bets? The guys who have deep pockets? They’re all set on the Cubs.”
“How… how would someone fix a game?”
Elliot gives me a rueful smile. “Trust me, that’s not information you want to know.”
“So what’s the decision you need to make?”
“Honestly, it’s mostly out of curiosity, but I want to gain access to the other guys’ books. I want to see who’s making what bets because really, Taryn, if it’s only isolated to me, it’s probably just a weird coincidence. If it’s across the board… that practically screams foul play.”
“What can we do?”
Elliot reaches over and covers my hand with his. “You? You go out there and keep playing like you have been. As for the other stuff, I can handle it. But… do I want to?”
“What do you mean? If someone’s fixed the game, that’s not right.”
“I agree. It’s not.” Elliot chews on his lip again and gives my hand a squeeze. “But the thing is, my boss is having me followed. He has those photos… if I fuck up again, he could out you. He could…” Elliot shivers. “Let’s just say that if you get in between that man and his money, I don’t even want to think what will happen. He’s been freaking me out all week.”
And out of everything he’s told me so far, one thing sticks and angers me even more than being outed. “He’s having you followed?” I growl.
Elliot chuckles but there’s no humor behind it. “Down boy.”
“I’m serious, Elliot. Who the hell is this guy?”
He lifts one shoulder and lets it drop again. “My boss. But I think there’s a reason we haven’t been raided in all the time I’ve worked for him, and I think there’s a reason we have so many high-profile clients. My boss isn’t a straight-laced guy.”
“If he hurts you…”
“He won’t.”
“But if he does…” I’m not sure how to finish that sentence, but I swear I’m frothing at the mouth. If anyone, anyone hurt Elliot, I’d fucking kill them.
Blinded by red, I grab him and yank him into my lap, closing him in my arms. “You don’t have to go back.”
He squirms a little, and when I finally give him room, I recognize the defiance on his face right away. “You know I have to.”
“You don’t. You can live here with me. I have more than enough money.”
“You do. But that money isn’t mine.” He drops his voice. “I need my own, Taryn. I shouldn’t have to remind you of why.”
He doesn’t need to, but I still pull him in tighter anyway. Head tucked under my chin, I try to forget the way he ignored my offer to move in, because yeah, I probably wasn’t serious, but if it meant keeping him safe, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Still, I can’t help feeling a little guilty about being flippant with those words when I could never offer that to Liam.
“I just want you safe.”
His hands slide over my cheeks, and for the first time since he got here, his expression is relaxed. “I know you do.” He strokes his thumb over my jaw. “And I will be. But we need to decide. Do we forget about the signs and ignore my gut, keeping both of us safe, or do I do a really dumb thing?”
I toy with the bottom of his shirt before sliding my hand under it and up his warm back. “If you find what you’re looking for, what then?”
“Then… I don’t know.” He rearranges himself so he’s cuddled up against me. “I can’t go to the cops because my job is kind of illegal, and I think Gary has some of them on his payroll. And going to the NFL commission is risky because you would have to be the one to do that, and if we go to the wrong people, they might try to use you as a scapegoat. Especially once you tell them where your information is coming from.”
We both fall silent for a while, not sure what more there is to talk about. The idea of Elliot being followed won’t leave my head, and even though I know there’s a lot at stake here, I can’t seem to focus on any of it. I want to tuck him away in my pocket.
The whole thing is making me feel disgusting. Someone watching him, intimidating him, added to the idea that coming out might be taken out of my hands and the game I love so much might be fucking tainted by some dickheads looking for an easy win.
“Do you think it could be a player?” I finally ask.
Elliot hums. “It could literally be anyone. A player, a coach, a senior member in the club. It could be a whole group of people. I really don’t know.”
“And do you think your boss is in on it?”
Elliot tenses. “For the Hawks game, definitely not. That one took us all by surprise. But if he’s noticed what I have… I really don’t know. Gary’s always been very against match fixing.” He wriggles around to look at me again. “But there are rumors that he’s less than innocent too, so I don’t know what to do. You need to tell me, Taryn.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can. You have the most at risk here.”
“Actually, I’d say our jobs could both be on the line.” I lick my lips as I reach out and tilt his head back. “If I’m outed, it’s going to be a mess. Maybe only for a short time, but I’ve played the worst-case scenarios over in my head enough times that I’m ready for them if they happen. You haven’t had that time. And… it’s so weird to even think this, but my biggest worry is that the worst will happen, and you won’t be here.”
His beautiful lips part. “Why would you think that?”
I give him a cut the crap look. “Because you’ve always been one foot out the door this whole time. And it’s fine, I’ve known what this is, and it’s not fair to expect more, but fuck I want it.”
He tucks his head down again so I can’t see him, which is my only tip that he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to. “I thought I’d tell you about the photos and you’d be pissed and decide I’m too much to deal with.”
The vulnerability in his tone, the way he curls his legs onto my lap, and the way his lips brush the skin at my neck make my heart ache.
“And you told me anyway.”
“I had to. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you.”
God, Elliot. My heart thrums a little faster as I press a kiss to the top of his hair. For someone so guarded about his feelings, he sure knows when to say the right things. I’m nervous as I push the next words out. “I want you to be my boyfriend. For us to be dating for real.”
He jerks back, hazel eyes studying mine. He must be searching for something, and while I have no idea what to give him or tell him, it doesn’t seem to matter. His breathing gets faster, and his Adam’s apple starts to work overtime. “What does dating for real entail?”
“Exclusivity, obviously. A lot of fucking. Spending time together going out and talking and messaging about dumb shit.”
Elliot’s lips quirk up. “So basically, exactly what we’re already doing?”
I think it over and yeah, actually, that is what we’ve already been doing. Shaking my head, I press a kiss to his forehead. “Okay, here’s the difference. We both have to be all in. No looking for an escape, no worrying about what might or might not happen. We have each other’s backs for everything.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Relief washes over me. I’m struggling to process what’s actually happening because it’s almost impossible to believe that Elliot’s agreeing to be mine. I kiss him softly—his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his eyelids. Again and again, I show him how overwhelmed I feel. My heart feels like it could burst because this man and everything about him knocks me completely off balance. I can’t get enough.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Even with work being a heap of shit, Taryn’s set on keeping things going between us. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he decided I was too much work, but Taryn never makes me feel that way, and the more work sucks, the more time I spend with him. If I’m having a shit day, I drive to his place and wait for him to finish training. If I make a good amount on a game, I drive to his place to celebrate with him. Knowin
g that Taryn is waiting at the other end makes the hour drive much more manageable, but going the other way is torture.
“Ready?” Taryn calls across the space between us. I hold up my hands, and he throws a perfect pass, right to me.
“Shit, yeah!” I hold the football up, and Taryn claps, a broad smile filling his face.
“Nice catch! I thought you said you weren’t great at this.”
“I’m not,” I call back. “You’re a good coach.”
It doesn’t hurt that we just spent the last ten minutes going over how to catch a pass. We’re barely twenty feet away from each other, and I know for a fact Taryn can go way farther, but at least we’re outside and doing something together. The staying in and fucking is incredible, but spending time doing stuff other than sex is what’s making my heart uncomfortably tight. Every time Taryn slings his arm playfully around my shoulders or talks football with the kind of passion that lights up his eyes, I feel myself getting even more hooked. It’s easy to forget about the shit with work, and the weird feeling of being followed, and the worry Taryn is being a little too careless about this whole thing, whenever we’re together.
I pass the ball back, and he catches it easily. Neither of us have to say much because just being together is enough. It’s quiet and peaceful, and there’s no pressure that I should be checking my phone or updating game stats. I know tomorrow I’ll regret it because even on my days off I still do random things to stay on top of the workload, but when I’m with Taryn, I don’t want to cut into our time together.
“Yo, Adderson!”
I jolt at the voice, and Taryn’s pass hits me straight in the chest. I stumble back a step, breath momentarily forced from my lungs, but I wave away the worry that flares up in Taryn’s expression. His lips press into a line, but he doesn’t get a chance to question me before the guy who yelled out to him jogs over.