“Well, you know what I can work with, what I like. I have faith that you will get me a great deal,” I said. Business wasn’t my strong suit. I didn’t trust easily, but I trusted Rupert.
He nodded. “You know I will, kid.” He took a sip of his coffee, then cleared his throat. “I, umm, ran into that reporter, Aiden James, in the lobby. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Oh shit, I was hoping the two didn’t run into each other, just to avoid this conversation. But I guess it couldn’t be avoided, especially after the Ringside article comes out. I wondered if Rupert was pissed that I didn’t tell him I was going to do the interview. I just didn’t want him tagging along, like he would have done, and ruin my night like he’d ruined my morning.
“Yeah, I had, ah, contacted him. I thought about what you said and felt that giving Ringside that interview was a move in the right direction. So since I was out here visiting my brother, I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone,” I said, telling him eighty percent of the truth.
“Well, that’s what I’m here for, kid. To handle those kinds of things for you,” he said, and he was also giving me a look like he didn’t fully believe me.
“I know. I just thought I’d handle this on my own.”
“Must have been a long interview to go overnight,” he commented.
Shit, he knew. “So?”
“‘So?’” He leaned in close so he could whisper, “Fucking escorts trained in the art of secrecy is one thing. Fucking a reporter working for the most read magazine in the world of sports is another. Have you lost your mind?”
I leaned over closer to him. “No, I haven’t. Besides, I trust Aiden. He won’t say anything.”
Rupert sat back with a frown on his face. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
I knew I was right. That level of betrayal just wasn’t in Aiden. I felt it with all of my heart. At least Rupert dropped it for now and began telling me about two more interviews he had set up for me that I needed to attend. I went along with his plan and ate my hearty breakfast of steak-rare, eggs with cheese, and grits, along with a bowl of fruit. When we finished, he went to his meeting and I signed out of the hotel.
My brother was very excited to see me and so were his wife and children. Especially my niece and nephew who thought that Uncle Macio was the coolest person in the world because he could beat up anyone. I hugged everyone, flashed muscles for the kiddies, and even lifted them both on each arm as they cackled and kicked their little feet in joy and amazement. After all of that initial excitement, I put my belongings away and caught up with my brother by the pool as he was grilling steaks.
I reached into the cooler, grabbing a beer, and popped the cap before bringing it to my lips for a nice chug. “So, how’s life treating you?” I asked Rico.
He grinned. “Not nearly as good as it’s treating you. I heard about the endorsement deal you’ve got going on.”
I frowned. “How in the fuck do you even know about that? I haven’t gone public with that deal yet.”
“Shit gets leaked, you know how it is. Someone who probably works for Michaelson’s Sports gave a few tidbits of info for some cold hard cash. That’s how rumors get started,” Rico said, then he flipped the steaks over.
Rumors indeed. Although the deal that was in question wasn’t a rumor, but that was what I hated about the business of being famous. Everyone wanted a piece of you. I confirmed what I knew with my brother and he whistled.
“Holy shit, that’s bank right there if all goes well. I wish you the best, little bro,” he said, patting me on my back “Damn, it’s like hitting solid steel.”
I flexed my muscles and smiled. “Hard work to get these bad boys,” I said, pumping my biceps. My brother wasn’t the fitness freak I was, but he wasn’t slacking, either. His body was more of someone who was naturally athletic. He loved playing baseball and soccer, hated the gym. So that was where his muscles came from.
We killed time talking about the past and all of the silly shit we did as kids. When his children came out to join us, we had to clean up our language, especially with the warning glare his wife gave us. Finally, the food was done, and we all sat down to eat and talk some more. I really enjoyed myself. I spend so much time training, little moments like these were a welcome reprieve. I was going to enjoy the next three days, that was for sure.
“You’re late, you know I don’t like that,” Barry snapped as soon as I stepped into the gym.
“I know,” was my response. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s unprofessional,” Barry complained.
“I know,” I barked. I wasn’t in the mood to hear that shit.
“Get your fucking head in the game, buddy. Suit up,” Barry ordered, and I nodded as I made my way to the locker room to get dressed.
I had two more weeks before I had to defend my championship belt, so I totally got why he was pissed. Now was not the time to start slacking on my training, but I’d been unfocused as of late. It’d been a month since I’d had sex with Aiden and I just couldn’t get him out of my system. Maybe because it wasn’t just sex. I had “just sex” with those fucking escorts. With Aiden, it was passion, admiration, and full on fucking lust.
God, I wanted him more and more every damn day. I went to bed thinking about him, every curve and smooth line of his body was seared into my memory bank. I wanted to run my fingers over his flesh as I licked every inch of him. The way I felt about him, I didn’t even know if I had the words to express. It was like Aiden was flowing through my bloodstream, like he’d become a part of me. I closed my eyes and saw his face looking back at me, and the longing I felt for him was not only painful, but unbearable.
That was how Aiden made me feel. I thought once we had sex, I’d be okay, but my feelings for him had only increased over the past month, burrowing deeper and taking root inside my very soul. It used to be, the only thing that mattered to me was winning and this was the only time I felt like I was losing.
I had refused to send him emails, thinking that breaking ties was for the best. No way could I just be his friend or professional when all I wanted to do was feel his gorgeous body beneath me again. I just wasn’t doing good trying to keep my distance from Aiden. I finally broke down and created an anonymous Facebook account under the name Tyler Johnson. I had friended him a week ago and was still waiting for him to accept the damn request.
As for the interview, I did with Ringside magazine, it was a huge success, to both Barry and especially Rupert’s surprise. It got me more exposure and even more fans. I had my professional social media accounts, which were used to increase and promote my brand. I noticed a huge increase in followers and friend requests after that interview went live, which was a good thing. Other interviewers jumped on the opportunity to get their turn with me, since I seemed to be open to the idea.
Of course, I left that for Rupert to filter through. He knew what was best and which interview would get me the maximum exposure in a positive way. Also, he knew which ones would be trying to pry too much into my personal life. I wanted to keep it purely on my business in the ring with only a few personal tidbits. The two interviews I did with MMA Elite Fighters and Sports World National did just that, so I enjoyed those interviews. Although, none compared to the experience I’d had with Aiden.
Before I went back out there, I checked my Facebook updates. Yes! It was about fucking time. Now we could be in contact on the sly. I sent him a PM, telling him who I was and giving him a winky face emoticon. Now I waited to see what his response would be. I hoped he didn’t unfriend me. That would be a fucking blow to not only my ego, but also my feelings. Well, time would tell. For now, I had to train or risk Barry’s wrath.
I tried to put Macio out of my mind after I left the Dorchester Hotel. I threw myself into my work and spent a vast majority of it in the United Kingdom, interviewing popular rugby and soccer players. I was surrounded by gorgeous men with incredible accents and not a single twitch of interest from my dick for any of them. I
t wasn’t that my dick was broken, either, because he fired on all cylinders when thoughts turned to Macio, which was too frequently for my comfort.
There were times when I thought I had gotten past what we had shared. I had even convinced myself that I had dreamed up the intensity between us. I wanted it to be the sex of the century, so therefore it was. Then I would see an article written about him or his picture and I remembered all over again the deep connection we had that went way beyond sex. I would close my eyes and relive the night in HD color, causing my misery to return tenfold.
When I returned to L. A. after nearly three weeks of absence, I worked to improve my personal life. It turned out to be hard work because I didn’t want to go out to dinner or clubbing with friends, I would much rather have spent my time recalling all the things that Macio had made me feel during our one night together. As miserable as I felt since leaving Macio behind, I was proud of myself for disguising it in front of my friends, family, and coworkers.
I went out when invited, I engaged in the conversations around me, and I even danced with beautiful men at the clubs. I just never took any of them home. I didn’t think my lack of fucking would garner much attention since I was never one to pick up a bunch of strangers, so I didn’t think it was that big of a deal when I ignored the dark-haired hottie at the opposite end of the bar who was trying to catch my eye.
“You need to get over him,” my best friend from high school said into my ear. “Whoever he is.”
There was no one on the planet I trusted more than Seth Anderson, but I wouldn’t even tell him about Macio. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sethy.” I used the dreaded nickname his mother gave him to annoy him so maybe he’d get distracted.
“Nice try with the nickname thing.” Seth rolled his eyes and marched on. “You can’t fool me, Aiden. I’ve known you for too long. The casual observer might chalk up your behavior as aloof or simply not interested in that sex-on-a-stick at the bar, but there’s something else at play here.”
“There really isn’t, Seth.” I pushed aside all thought of Macio and turned to face my friend. “I’m simply tired after a long trip abroad. I need a few days to rest up and then I have to write and submit the interview articles.”
“I’m not doubting any of that,” he replied. “What I don’t understand is why your resting up can’t include a good, hard tumble with that guy.” He nodded his head in the direction of the guy once more. “I know you’re not one to hook up with random guys, but it seems to have been a long dry spell since you ended that disaster of a relationship with Geoff McGuire. Would it kill you to get laid?”
I groaned out loud at the mention of Geoff. Jesus, what had I been thinking? Okay, beyond the fact that he was incredibly sexy with a hot, strong body and a face to match. I admired his intelligence and his wicked sense of humor too. I really thought he was the one until I realized just how deep in the closet he was.
I meant, closets were a lot like people, and had many layers. The first layer in your closet were the clothes you currently wore, and behind them were the out of season clothes that you’d wear when the weather changed. From there on, it got a bit sketchy with the clothes you hadn’t worn in ten years or more. You told yourself, and anyone who’d listen, that you’d wear that item “you just couldn’t live without” once you lost those final ten pounds. Even further behind those treasures of days gone by was your great-great grandmother’s moth-eaten wedding dress that you couldn’t say how it got there. It would be right around there that you’d find Geoff hiding.
It took me longer than it should have to realize what was going on when I never met his friends or family and he referred to me as his “good friend” if we ran into his coworkers while out. It hurt me deeper than I cared to remember and Seth bringing it up only added to my misery of missing a man I could never have. God, what the fuck was my problem with these guys?
“Can you really blame me?” I asked Seth. “Something like that really fucks with your mind.”
“No, man, I get that,” Seth replied sympathetically. “I just don’t like seeing you unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy.” Liar.
“Look, I didn’t invite you here to bust your balls.” Seth nudged my shoulder playfully. “I wanted to have some dinner and a few drinks with my best friend. I’ll ignore the lack of sparkle in your blue eyes and pretend that everything is wonderful so we can have a good time.” Seth held up his glass of beer and I tapped mine to his.
The pager lit up and vibrated against the bar, indicating that our table was ready. I followed Seth to the hostess station where he exchanged the pager for the cute guy’s phone number. Seth sent me a wry smile over his shoulder as we followed the host to our table as if to say, “That’s how you do it.”
His shenanigans helped me temporarily forget about my problems and I was able to kick back and enjoy a delicious meal with my best friend. I devoured my perfectly seasoned and grilled steak while catching up with Seth. We hadn’t seen one another in nearly two months, so the conversation flowed easily between us. I was grateful I had agreed to dinner with him rather than stay home and mope.
Seth got up to use the restroom while we waited for our waiter to return the leather folders with our credit cards inside them. I decided to check my email and saw that I had an unread message on Messenger. I clicked open the app and saw it was a message from Tyler Johnson, whose Facebook friend request I had recently accepted. I saw a preview of the message and it stole my breath.
It’s M. I set up this page so we could chat and no one would know.
M, as in Macio? I was just about to reply and find out, but Seth returned to the table. I slid my phone into my pocket and smiled at Seth. I knew that my actions made me look like a guilty teenager caught doing something forbidden. The idea of secretly messaging Macio felt naughty and forbidden. Seth’s shrewd gaze told me he hadn’t missed it, but luckily, he let it go.
My heart raced during the entire trip home as I rolled over everything I wanted to say to Macio, if it was him. I wouldn’t be tricked easily. But as I pulled into my driveway, a thought hit me between the eyes hard enough to hurt. How was chatting with Macio under a false account any different than sneaking around with Geoff? The sobering thought stiffened my resolve to move on with my life. I knew I should unfriend Tyler Johnson, aka “M,” and delete his message, but I decided to sleep on it instead of acting rashly.
My tenacity faded as the sun came up the next morning after a sleepless night. I opened Messenger and read the complete message.
It’s M. I set up this page so we could chat and no one would know. I miss you, Aiden. Things haven’t felt right since you walked out of my room at the Dorchester. I hope you’ll reply, but I’ll understand if you don’t.
I had to be careful because he would be training that time of day and I had to consider that someone might see a preview of my response pop up on his phone if it was left in the open. Still, it felt cruel to leave him hanging another minute longer. I kept my response simple, honest, and safe. It was good hearing from you. I look forward to catching up.
That morning in the shower was the first time that using Macio’s brand of shampoo and shower gel didn’t make me sad. I had purchased it from the store on the way home from the hotel in a spur of the moment reaction to missing him. I thought that smelling like him might give me a bit of comfort while I nursed my disappointed heart. All it did was make me relive our night together every time I used it. I knew it was pathetic and I needed to stop, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.
I knew it would be several hours before he’d be able to respond to me, so I decided to listen to the recording and review my interview notes so I could start working on my article rather than take the day off like I’d planned. I suspected I would check my phone every five seconds if I didn’t stay busy.
I dove into my project and completely lost track of time. My only reference to the time passing was the number of cups of coffee I drank. I was u
p to cup number five by the time my phone lit up with a message from Macio. I checked the time and was shocked to see it was just a little past lunchtime. Hi.
That was it; one word. Yet, it spoke volumes to me. I felt a strong sense of doubt, and even vulnerability, in those two letters. It made my heart hurt in my chest. My reply was as honest as I could be. I’ve missed you too.
Nothing came for a few minutes and I thought maybe he had to go back to training. I set my phone back down to work again, then his next message came through. Who is Seth Anderson?
It took me a minute to register his question, because of all the things I expected him to ask, that wasn’t one of them. Maybe how are you, or what have you been up to, but not who I had dinner with the previous night. I remembered seeing the tag notification from the post that Seth made the night before that included a selfie, which meant that Macio had been looking through my page. He’s my best friend from high school.
Macio’s reply was immediate. Just friends?
I didn’t owe Macio anything, but I wanted to give him everything. I was in very dangerous territory with him because I knew he was going to be hell on my heart. I couldn’t see a way that anything real could happen between us, but that didn’t slow me down, let alone stop me. Just friends. I wouldn’t lie to you.
I have no right to ask, he fired back.
No, but I want you to have the right. Fuck! I wished I could take it back, even if it was the truth. Hell, I wanted Macio to have a lot of rights. I felt the need to inject some humor to relax the conversation. Hey, I let you come in my ass. That grants you some rights. ;)
Do you know how uncomfortable it is to have a hard-on beneath a cup?
I couldn’t help but laugh at his question, then I found myself groaning when an image of me removing the offensive cup from his body popped up in my mind. That image wasn’t the only thing popping up on my body. Can’t say that I do. Sorry.
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