by Sienna Blake
Finally, Dyson stopped drinking, wiped his mouth, and sighed. “Needed that.”
“You and me both. How’s your arm?”
“I popped some ibuprofen.” He shrugged. “Probably didn’t need to. It hurts a little. Mostly it feels like a bad sunburn. It’s probably going to itch like mad as it heals.”
Dyson took another sip of his beer. He looked at his beer bottle and grinned. He had a good smile. A smile that took away all that focused ferocity that seemed to linger just below the surface.
“This really hits the spot,” Dyson said, sounding almost surprised.
“I know. I hate when I’m trying to cut weight for training camp and have to lay off the beer.” He chuckled softly. “The offseason is rough. You can’t lose a step, even though it’s easy to feel like you’re on vacation.”
Dyson nodded absently. His gaze was far off, looking out on the incredible view of the city. He slowly walked to the high railing and leaned against it. He glanced back at where Adam was sitting, a half-smile on his face.
“Now that’s a million-dollar view.”
Adam got to his feet and walked over to stand beside Dyson. His body wanted to stay in one place after all the abuse he’d heaped on it today, but Adam spurred it into motion anyway. His body might protest, but the rest of him wanted to stand next to Dyson. To be close to him. To share the moment.
“It’s a million-plus-plus dollar view actually. It’s the main reason I bought this place.”
“If I had money, I’d probably buy a ranch out somewhere with a lot of space. But this view might make me change my mind.”
“I’m out here a lot,” Adam said. “It’s like…” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. It wasn’t as if he was a poet or anything. He gave it his best shot anyway. “I don’t know, it’s like I can feel all the life and energy in the city, but I’m far enough away that the city always looks beautiful. You can’t see any of the ugly spots.”
“You’re right. This is a long way from my neighborhood.”
“Yeah? Where was that?” He was curious about this man’s past. He knew nothing about him, and the guy had saved his ass today. He felt an obligation on top of his curiosity to know him better.
“Columbus, Ohio. I left as soon as I could. I’ve seen a lot of crappy places in my travels, but Columbus was something else.”
He’d never been to Columbus, so he couldn’t say one way or another. He only nodded. They stood there together, about six inches between them. There was always a breeze on the balcony. It made the flames in the fire pit dance and flicker.
He didn’t look at Dyson as he began to speak. “I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier but thank you. If you hadn’t been there tonight, someone might’ve been really hurt by that psycho. Most likely me.”
Dyson turned to look at him. “It’s my job. It’s what I’m good at. But you’re welcome.” His normally serious expression was softened by a grin. “You handled yourself well. I was impressed.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said something like that.”
Dyson shrugged. “It’s true. I don’t hand out empty praise. You handled yourself very well under pressure. That’s rare.”
“Maybe not as rare for pro athletes. When it’s after the two-minute warning, and we’re down by three and desperately trying to get into field goal range and millions of people are watching…that’s some pressure. Dragging someone to a sink isn’t that big a deal.”
“Well, you kept your head, that’s all I’m saying. I saw the guy as a threat, but I didn’t realize what kind of weapon he had. One of the cops said they do that kind of thing in other parts of the world sometimes. Throwing acid on people. Our guy probably heard about it on the news and wanted to try it out here.”
“It makes me sick to my stomach.” He took a long sip of beer, trying to hold back a shudder and failing. “Trying to maim or disfigure someone? Or blind them? There should be a special place in hell for a guy who would do something like that.”
“You and I agree. But then again, I’m not very forgiving.”
“Why not?”
Dyson fell quiet. So quiet that Adam began to think he wasn’t going to answer. But then he shook his head and did.
“I hold myself to a high standard. I expect other people to do the same. I don’t like liars or hypocrites or people who hurt others. I know I should be more forgiving with people, but I’m not. I’m too quick to judge.” He glanced at Adam. “Sometimes I’m wrong. Then my pride takes a blow.”
Adam didn’t say anything. He finished the beer, standing next to Dyson, and then went to sit by the natural gas-fueled fire, watching the flames and feeling the heat on his skin.
He didn’t feel like talking much anymore. He was tired. His memories of his mom had drained the rest of his spirit. And as attracted as he was to Dyson, the man’s words about hating liars and hypocrites felt like a kick to the balls.
After all, Adam was probably the biggest liar and hypocrite in this entire building. And that was saying a lot.
Dyson left the balcony railing and sat in another comfortable patio chair. The orange glow of the flames made the hard angles of his face even more striking. The light gleamed on his shaved head and the tattoos all over his arms. They were showing because he had pushed back the hoodie sleeves to his elbows.
The man had an unforgettable look to him. Not just that badass air, but a weight to him. A serious air. All business mixed with danger.
Dyson looked him in the eyes. “I meant to tell you something earlier today. It’s important. I guess now’s the best time.”
“You don’t have to say anything if it’s about me not wanting a bodyguard. I changed my mind.”
“Good. But it’s not about that.”
Adam frowned but didn’t bother saying anything more. The man would say what he had to say when he was finally comfortable enough to say it. That was a mouthful, but right now, he was too tired and feeling too mellow to worry about it much.
Dyson let out a long sigh and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m gay.”
Adam froze. He didn’t even breathe. His heart stuttered in his chest and then come back even harder, pounding inside him.
Why would he admit that? Did he somehow know that Adam was gay? Had his secret somehow come out? It had been years since he’d actually been with another man. But had someone from his past talked?
Dyson was watching him closely. Adam knew the man would judge him by his reaction. He needed to be careful here.
“You caught me off guard,” he said slowly, angling for more time. “Why would you tell me that?”
“Because I’m here in your place. I already mentioned that I don’t like liars and hypocrites. If it’s relevant, I’ll tell people that fact about me. Before I stay here, I wanted you to know. In case you have a problem with it.”
“Was that what you wanted to tell me earlier? When I was in the hot tub?”
“Yeah. But that wasn’t a good time.”
Adam burst out laughing. “No shit.”
He thought for a second. His mind was still reeling from what the man had told him. He didn’t know what to think. It was too big, too sudden for him to process. Especially after the day he’d already had.
Dyson began to stand. “You need a moment to think about it. I’ll get my stuff together in case—”
“No. Don’t get your stuff together. I don’t care that you’re gay.”
That was a lie. Part of him was shocked. Part of him was jubilant. And the rest of him was still staggered and afraid that Dyson would somehow find out that Adam was gay too.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Sorry I took a moment to process it. Like I said, you caught me off guard.”
“I know. I’ve never been all that good at the whole talking game. So I blurted it out.”
“Don’t worry about it. It just surprised me. But hell, thanks for trusting me with that info. It’s pretty personal.”
Dyson
shrugged. “I’ve never been ashamed of it. But then again, I know how to take care of myself. Not everybody’s that lucky.”
Adam thought anyone who messed with Dyson over the fact that he was gay must have a death wish. As much as he admired the guy for sharing that with him, he also felt very guilty. Because Adam wasn’t exactly tripping over his tongue to reveal his secret, now was he?
He finished his beer and stood. He couldn’t deal with this right now. His head was filled with too many conflicting thoughts. His chest felt tight, and he couldn’t get a grip on his emotions.
“You’re right about not everybody being that lucky,” he said. “But it doesn’t change anything. You still saved my ass tonight. I’m not going to forget that.”
Dyson gave him a kind smile. He lifted his left arm, the one that had been burned. “And you saved me. Or at least my arm. From a worse burn. It was quick thinking. Quick action.”
Adam shook his head. “I was a chemistry major in college, believe it or not. So I know a bit about chemical safety.”
He’d been a chemistry major in college because his mom believed pharmacists had job security. She’d warned him over and over about it. In case he didn’t make the pros, he needed to leave college with the skills to get a job that didn’t involve throwing a football.
Thinking of his mom again had him suddenly feeling the need to be alone, to have some space. Or better yet, to head off to bed and put this crazy day behind him for good.
He stood. Dyson was standing too and held out a hand to shake.
“To hell with that,” Adam said and pulled the guy in for a hug. He was just as solid as he looked. But Adam still gave him a tight hug.
At first, Dyson seemed shocked at the sudden contact. But then he hugged Adam back.
The hug didn’t last forever. And it was a manly hug, Adam thought to himself with a smirk. But it was a moment of connection that had come quickly because of what they’d gone through tonight.
“I didn’t hurt your arm, did I?” he asked as he drew back.
Dyson snorted. “You worry more than my grandmother.”
“Hey. I’m the quarterback. I take care of the team. It’s my job.”
“Fair enough,” Dyson said, still looking amused.
“All right. I’m off to bed. It’s been a long damn day. Tomorrow, we’ll be spending most of the day reviewing tape with the coach and the offensive coordinator. It should be nice and laidback.”
“Good. We’ve earned it.”
As Adam walked away, he found himself agreeing. When he finally climbed into bed, he fell into an exhausted sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DYSON
“You don’t need to buy me a new suit,” Dyson said patiently. He was in the passenger seat of Adam’s Maserati with Adam behind the wheel. They were sitting in the car, parked in the private VIP lot at the stadium. The team practice had just ended. The Razorbacks were trying out a bunch of new running plays to take the pressure off of Collins.
“Yeah. I do,” Adam replied. “But first, I’ll buy us lunch. Then we’ll go get you some new threads.” He smirked. “But don’t eat too much. You don’t want to throw off your waist measurement and then have your slacks sagging. I learned that the hard way.”
Dyson smirked. “No, I guess I don’t want that.”
He finally decided to stop protesting Adam’s determination to buy him new clothes. He had a feeling that Adam wasn’t used to taking no for an answer. At least not when it came to buying stuff for other people. And yeah, the two of them had been on a first-name basis since the night of the attack in the club. It seemed silly to insist on keeping professional distance after something like that.
As for the guy who had tried to attack Adams, he was a real piece of work. Howie Ford hailed from Philadelphia. Turned out, he was a huge fan of the New York Thundershock. A rabid fan. On top of that, Mr. Ford had a history of mental illness. He told police he meant to put Adam Collins in the hospital with acid burns. When they asked why, he explained that Collins was a cheater and had a computer in his mind that let him throw passes more accurately than “unenhanced” humans.
Apparently, Adam Collins was the first in an onslaught of cyborg sports stars engineered by corporations to drive up ticket prices.
It was almost sad, almost pathetic.
Almost, because the guy had nearly succeeded in maiming Adam badly, ending his season at the very least and maybe even permanently disfiguring him. Ford had burned Dyson’s arm in the scuffle when the acid had splashed on his suit sleeve, so that figured into the charges too. Although the burn was healing, Dyson couldn’t really find it in himself to forgive the guy. He wasn’t big on regrets, but he also wasn’t big on forgiveness.
Adam started the car, revved the engine, and cruised away from the stadium. He got on I-30 for a bit, speeding as he loved to do, and then took an exit and ended up in Stevens Park Village.
That was another thing that had changed since that first night. They were both riding in the same car now.
It was strange and surprising. Dyson had been afraid that revealing he was a homosexual would give Adam the ammunition he needed to get rid of his annoying bodyguard problem.
But the quarterback hadn’t freaked out. Even after having Dyson wander into his bath earlier, the guy hadn’t flipped. Maybe Adam was used to being naked around other men and didn’t give a damn about it. In the military, it had been the same way.
Or maybe Adam Collins was just a cool guy.
The more he was around the Razorbacks’ star player, the more he was betting on option two.
He dragged his attention back to what Adam was talking about, glad the other man hadn’t noticed he’d been lost in his own thoughts.
Although he shouldn’t have been surprised by what Adam was talking about. The quarterback was talking about their strategy going into the next game. Dyson was a little irritated with himself that he hadn’t been listening all that closely and had missed a lot. He was a football fan. How many fans got to shoot the shit with a pro football quarterback before a make-or-break game?
To someone who didn’t know football, it might seem surprising that a quarterback’s job off the field was as tough and demanding as on the field. Adam needed to memorize play after play, reviewing tapes, reading defenses, learning audibles, and planning out options with the offensive coordinator.
There was a huge amount of strategy in the game. Adam needed to be flexible enough to call audibles if the defense was stacked against him. He needed to take advantage of unlooked-for opportunities as they developed after the hike. As a team leader, he also needed to manage the big egos on the field that came with pro sports. He helped make teamwork make the team work.
There was a lot of thinking that went into a game that, on the surface, looked like nothing more than big men running around and crashing into each other. That was how Dyson’s sister had always dismissed football, but Dyson had always been a fan. Sure, part of it was tied to his horny teenager days, watching the guys in tight pants run around, with the added bonus of all the action and tension of sports. But then again, he’d liked professional wrestling for the same horny reasons.
What were you gonna do? He was a guy. Why apologize for it?
Adam took them to some sports bar and grill on the corner of a busy street. He parked in the lot out back, the Maserati standing out among trucks, motorcycles, and sedans.
As they walked toward the door, Dyson glanced at Adam. “You don’t worry about someone jacking your ride?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I used to worry more about people dinging it. Or even keying it. That happened to me during my rookie year. But I like to think I’ve reached a Zen state about it.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“It’s a piece of property. It won’t last forever. So I should enjoy it while I can because I sure as hell know I’m lucky to have it. These days, I don’t sweat the dings and nicks.” He grinned. “Besides, it has a remote kill switch
installed. If someone steals it, they won’t get far.”
Dyson gave him a half-smile and nodded his approval.
This guy was full of surprises.
They headed inside the sports pub. There was a bar against the back wall, but it looked like there wouldn’t be a bartender until later. Lots of TVs had been mounted at all angles, showing all kinds of sports. Racing. Golf. Hockey. The walls were covered in sports memorabilia and photos.
The moment the door shut behind them, people started calling out greetings to Adam. He grinned and waved. A waitress wandered by and told Adam to sit wherever he wanted, giving him a grin and a wink.
“And who’s your new friend?” the waitress, whose nametag said Suzi, asked as she gave Dyson a friendly once-over.
Adam slapped a hand down on Dyson’s shoulder. “Meet my new badass bodyguard, Suze. He already saved my life, and he just started working for me on Sunday.”
“Well, if he saved your life, then Eddie’s going to comp his meal.” Suzi looked impressed, even though Dyson was a bit embarrassed that Adam was exaggerating the whole life-saving business. “Go on and sit wherever you fancy. I’ll be there in a second.”
Adam glanced at Dyson and then nodded at a booth toward the back. “I usually eat over there. I don’t get as many autograph requests. That means I can actually finish my food.”
But on the way to the booth, Adam did stop and sign a few autographs for fans. He chatted with them casually, his smile warm, his expression open and friendly.
When they sat down, Dyson asked him, “You’re a regular here?”
“I come here sometimes. It’s a pretty low-key place.”
“Did you know those people you were giving autographs to?”
He frowned and shook his head. “They’re just fans. Not regulars or anything. Why?”
“You’re very friendly with them.”
“Yeah,” he said as if Dyson had a bolt stripped in his brain. “They’re Razorbacks fans. Why wouldn’t I be friendly?”