The Rainbow Clause

by Beth Bolden

  It was getting harder and harder not to think that Nick had an ulterior motive in being so close, especially with the way he was looking at him right now, all heat and nothing held back. Nothing like he’d been earlier downstairs.

  Colin gave himself a pat on the back for taking a fashion risk with the skinny jeans and made a mental note to give Lindsay a raise. And maybe to give the clothes she picked more than a cursory glance going forward.

  Nick’s perusal was a nearly unbearable slow burn. “Glad to see you’ve decided to discover twenty-first century fashion, O’Connor,” he teased, the tone low and intimate.

  Colin was stone-cold sober, but the way Nick was looking at him kept his blood simmering. “I figured they looked so good on you, why not?”

  Nick smiled. “I’m very happy to take personal responsibility for the way you look in those.”

  The doorbell rang, and Colin eyed the stairs. He wasn’t quite shameless to troop down the staircase first, letting Nick ogle him the whole time. “I forgot my phone, can you grab the door.” It was a blatant lie, but it also let him get a split-second view of the way Nick’s ass looked in his dark gray skinny jeans. And yes, there was a God, and he was blessing Colin right now.

  Nick was already in the car when Colin slid inside.

  Directions dispensed with, Nick turned to Colin. He’d done something swoopy with his hair, and it looked almost exactly like it did in Colin’s imagination when he’d managed to seduce Nick to his bed. That was going to be incredibly distracting. “Tell me more about who’s coming tonight?” Nick asked, as if Colin needed a reminder of his main capacity. It wasn’t to create cute inside jokes and stare at his butt in skinny jeans, and it wasn’t to be his date when he didn’t want to go out.

  Colin took a deep breath. “You know Teddy. He was traded to the Piranhas the year before I was drafted. He’s sort of my…mentor, I guess.”

  Nick’s expression was speculative in the dim lighting of the car. His eyes glowed unearthly, nearly the turquoise shade of Colin’s shirt, something he hadn’t considered when picking it. “Does Colin O’Connor need a mentor?”

  “Colin O’Connor isn’t perfect,” Colin retorted. That was easy. “I’m the last person on earth to tell you that he is.”

  Nick made an impatient gesture like, tell me more.

  “You know how it is. Even coming from an elite collegiate program, the NFL is a different universe. The rookie programs they’ve put in place the last few years help, but they don’t nearly make up the difference. Teddy sort of self-appointed as a bridge.” Colin paused. It shouldn’t have felt like a big deal confessing this. Normal people probably didn’t feel so constrained when discussing their personal lives. “He’s my best friend in Miami, basically.”

  “I’m assuming he knows about what you’re planning,” Nick said.

  “He was the first...no, the second. The first was Mark. The second person I told in Miami about my sexuality. Teddy’s always been cool about it.”

  “What about the others?”

  Colin frowned. “The others?”

  “The others on the team that know? I’m assuming everyone who’s coming tonight knows.”

  “Uh...not exactly.”

  Nick did a double take and Colin continued before he could freak out. “I mean, I know I need to tell them. The whole team. We’ve been talking about the best way to go about it. Me and Helen.”

  “Right.” Nick did not seem convinced.

  Colin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “That means we can’t be honest about why you’re here. We can just say you’re doing an article.”

  Nick’s gaze was unapologetically frank. “I’m okay with that. But you do know waiting isn’t going to make it easier.”

  “Helen wanted me to talk to the players when OTAs start.”

  “But that’s –“

  “Right before the article comes out? I know. I’ve been trying to convince her that I need to do it earlier.”

  “She’s trying to make sure nobody blabs,” Nick huffed. “I get it, but it’s stupid.”

  “Well,” Colin said, grinning over at Nick, “maybe you wouldn’t mind dropping a line to her about your feelings.”

  “Count on it,” Nick retorted. “Now, who are the others coming tonight? Besides Teddy?”

  Colin described Boomer, the younger tight end he’d befriended, and the other two rookies from his draft year who were still on the team, Ricky and Oliver. “Also,” he added, “probably most of my o-line. I try to invite them to a bunch of stuff.”

  “Makes sense. They protect your ass. Might as well show some gratitude.” Nick’s mouth quirked up. “It’s definitely an ass worth protecting.”

  “The way you tell it, Sports Illustrated should’ve gotten a rear shot and not the front,” Colin teased.

  Caught up in the rhythm of their banter returning, Colin totally forgot that his crack about Nick’s Sports Illustrated obsession hadn’t gone over well earlier. He froze for a split second, dreading Nick’s reaction. But Nick just laughed this time, completely unbothered by the comment. Even amused by it.

  “If Sports Illustrated was a softcore gay porn mag, maybe,” Nick said wryly.

  Colin, who’d at some point been terrified to even look at gay porn because of what it might mean, yearned for the sort of comfort Nick had with his sexuality that let him make jokes about it.

  Still, the words came out of his mouth before he could stuff them back in. “Are you saying that I’ve got gay pornstar potential?”

  Nick laughed incredulously. “I can’t believe you don’t realize how hot you are.”

  Colin didn’t quite have the nerve to tell him that he didn’t care how hot he was; he only wanted Nick to tell him how hot Nick thought he was.

  Hibiscus was everything Colin had assumed it would be.

  Personally, he didn’t see anything particularly special about it; nothing to give it the sort of caché that led to Miami begging to be let inside. If Mark was to be believed, anyway.

  Yeah, it looked neat, with all the different exotic floral arrangements tastefully backlit against the dim interior. The hostesses were beautiful, the men and women displayed like the flowers. But Colin remained cold, immune to the seductively pumping music and the shadowy corners.

  “Welcome, Mr. O’Connor,” the hostess purred. She was brunette, and there was something about the tilt of her lips that reminded him of Jemma. But Jemma had never had a reason to rehearse a smile, and the hostess’ was entirely practiced. “Your party is already seated in your private cabana.”

  He barely held back the eye roll as he nodded in the affirmative. Colin thought he could Nick staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but then the hostess was leading them down a spacious hallway, and he was distracted by the suites that opened up on either side.

  They passed another set of open doorways and Colin realized that this wasn’t set up like a normal club. It was all small suites of rooms, separate and intimate, leading to the idea that you weren’t just here with the rest of Miami’s party scene, you were special.

  Colin was too familiar with the concept of special. He’d seen it ruin people, up close and personal. There was an immensely talented wide receiver in college who was projected to draft in the high rounds who got caught with coke and ended up going to jail instead of the combine.

  They hadn’t been close, but the sheer waste had devastated Colin and remained a haunting reminder to never depend on being “special.”

  That was all this club was selling; the chance for its patrons to feel exclusive. Colin, who’d never particularly enjoyed Miami nightlife, hated it.

  The hostess turned into a side room, and Colin went through the motions, greeting his friends, his co-workers. Nick’s presence was written off with a simple, “He’s with me, doing a focus profile.”

  Only Teddy’s gaze lingered on the reporter, and that was almost certainly because he already knew why Nick was there. The rest of the guys didn’t care. Reporter
s faded into the woodwork, especially when they’d signed NDAs.

  The hostess listed off the activities available to them. Food and drinks in the cabana, which opened onto a private lanai and hot tub. The main dance floor was in the center, circled by the private lanais. They were free to venture out into the crowd or to stay closer to their private cabana.

  She left with a last word to Colin that whatever he wanted was available, he just needed to ask. Her exit was closely followed by the arrival of food and a VIP bottle service setup. Colin settled uncomfortably on one of the low couches and was relieved to see Nick sit down next to him.

  “This is sort of wild, and I spent most of my early twenties in clubs,” Nick murmured, ducking his head in close to nearly whisper in Colin’s ear.

  Colin shrugged. Sure, it was nice, but it didn’t really entertain him. Teddy was pouring drinks, and handed him something that was probably heavy on liquor and light on mixer. Which, considering how long this evening was going to be, was probably better.

  “Vodka soda, with a lime,” Nick told Teddy when he asked what he wanted. Teddy’s eyes slid from Nick to Colin, who was currently sipping his own vodka soda with lime.

  Nick leaned back on the couch, cradling his drink. Colin resolutely tried to ignore the arm he’d slung over the back, the fingers of which could have brushed his own collar.

  Normally he would’ve eaten it up, maybe even sunk into the embrace, but ninety percent of this room didn’t even know he was interested in men and he wasn’t really sure flirting with a reporter was the best way to tell them.

  “Are you sure you’re not secretly a gay pornstar?” Nick’s voice slid over his ear again, just for the two of them to hear. He gestured with his glass. “I’ve been drinking these since I started going out in WeHo.”

  “Weho?”

  Nick laughed. “West Hollywood. Gay clubs, O’Connor.”

  “Oh. Right.” Colin couldn’t help the pulse of shame that he’d needed to ask. And a pulse of envy, too, because while Colin had been slaving away at practices, afraid to look above the floor in the locker room, Nick had been embracing and exploring his sexuality.

  “Give me a few more of these, and I’ll show you some of my moves.”

  Colin’s default answer to dancing was universally ‘no’. But the idea of dancing with Nick was irresistible, even though everyone with the exception of Teddy wouldn’t get it.

  Though, Colin observed as he watched them all drink like their glasses were bottomless, maybe they’d be all too drunk to care.

  He was on his second drink before the food arrived and feeling it in the pit of his stomach. Or maybe that was the heat of Nick’s thigh nearly pressed to his and his hand so close to his neck. Colin craved and dreaded the moment his fingers might slip and graze the skin at the top of his spine.

  The food was ridiculous, tiny, beautifully plated bits of nothing that did nothing to soak up the alcohol pooling in his stomach. Which, he realized as he poured them new drinks, and Nick and Teddy chattered away with Boomer about his new charity, was probably the whole point. Hibiscus’ whole premise was designed to smooth away the real world under an exotic layer of exclusivity, sex, and alcohol.

  Ricky and Oliver had stripped down to the swimming trunks the club provided, and were dancing in the hot tub, drifting closer to the music. Colin, sipping his drink, stared out in the seductively dark mass of dancers, the anonymity they might provide, and felt his resolve slipping.

  He wandered over to where Nick, Boomer, and Teddy were standing, and tried to not look like he was collecting his date for the evening.

  Because as much as he might know differently, that was how this felt. How, deep down, Colin wanted it to feel.

  Boomer, a glass of scotch in his hand, didn’t seem to pick up on the subtext, but Teddy did. And Nick glanced up as Colin approached, his eyes growing warm and soft, the palest pearl gray. A smile glimmered at the corner of his lips, like he could read Colin’s mind and knew why he was here and what he really wanted.

  “I keep telling O’Connor he needs to start his own foundation,” Nick said, even though they’d never even talked about it. If they had, Colin would have told him that he was waiting until he could found something with extensive LGBTA+ ties. “He’d do so much more good.”

  “The kids,” Boomer raved, “the kids love it so much. They need more positive role models. O’Connor is a great one, but we need more.”

  Colin morosely had to wonder if Boomer would still be saying that if he knew he wanted to drag Nick off by his hair and shove him up against the nearest, most convenient wall and finally find a way to shut up his smart mouth.

  Nick’s glance over in Colin’s direction was sly. Colin shouldn’t have found it as hot as he did. “He sure is something. Practically a modern day Captain America. America’s quarterback.”

  “I told you,” Colin inserted, because apparently tonight the vodka was making him chatty, “I’m from Alaska.”

  Teddy threw his head back and laughed. “Another world, right?”

  “They shouldn’t have put you in those damn stars and stripes flag shorts on the Sports Illustrated cover then,” Nick added. His eyes glowed with amusement. Flirting with Nick right under Boomer’s nose was a lot more fun than he thought it might be. His fingers still itched to touch but he was patient; he could wait until the right time. Maybe.

  “Oh, he hates that cover,” Teddy said, laughing again. “I made photocopies and posted it on every locker in the practice facility. We called him Doctor Model for a week.”

  It had been horrifically embarrassing at the time. The incident was one of the reasons why Colin hated the cover so much.

  Nick tilted his head and his eyes sparkled. “Doctor Model. I’m gonna use that.”

  “Teddy,” Colin groaned, but somehow the humiliation in the memory had faded. He could only assume that Nick’s obvious appreciation of the visuals had helped remove much of the sting.

  “You,” Boomer said, pointing to Nick, smooth and suave in a way that Colin envied, “and I are gonna make something happen.”

  “I’m going to write an article on his foundation,” Nick explained.

  Colin knew how worthwhile Boomer’s foundation for disadvantaged kids was – he’d personally spent time volunteering for it in the last year – but he was stupidly envious of anyone else gaining Nick’s attention.

  “Oh, don’t pout, I’m sure that the article Nick’s writing on you will be a hell of a lot more high profile.” Boomer grinned like he had no idea how true his statement was. Which he didn’t. He couldn’t possibly.

  “I’m gonna write in that you’re high maintenance to boot,” Nick said, then gestured with his empty glass before heading over to where the bar was setup.

  Boomer turned to Colin, a suddenly serious expression on his face that Colin would have guessed was an impossibility considering how many glasses of scotch he’d downed tonight. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, O’Connor?”

  “Uhhhh,” Colin stammered. He was a bad liar under the best of circumstances. Vodka did not create ideal circumstances.

  “I know you don’t do features. And it’s the wrong time of year for a football profile. What are you planning on telling the world?”

  Colin took a long, deep drink and prayed he wasn’t making a huge mistake. Prayed that tomorrow Boomer still wanted to talk to him. “I’m coming out as bisexual.”

  Colin had always believed he was good at hiding his biggest secret. The complete lack of surprise on Boomer’s face told him that maybe he wasn’t as good as he’d thought he was.

  Instead, he smiled brightly and slapped him on the back, hand lingering long enough to telegraph loud and clear that Boomer didn’t give two shits about touching him. Same as Teddy hadn’t. Colin exhaled in silent relief. Boomer didn’t hate him. Teddy didn’t hate him. That was two down, about a million to go. “Good for you,” Boomer said. “It won’t be easy. Any time you need me for anything, you just say the wo
rd.”

  ‘Thank you’ seemed insufficient, but it was the only words Colin seemed to be able to dredge up.

  “And Nick, I’ve heard he swings your way, too.” Teddy grinned. “Why don’t you go ask him to dance? He looks like he’d show you a good time.”

  Colin spluttered into his drink. “I guess expecting the matchmaking to end was too much to ask,” he said ruefully.

  Teddy shot him a frank look. “I say this as an almost completely straight man, O’Connor, but you are too hot to stay at home watching Netflix all the damn time. Go have a good time. However you want to.”

  Colin glanced over towards the bar station. Nick was pouring his drink, his hips unconsciously moving to the beat of the music outside.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, downing his drink in one motion and steeling his courage to walk over to Nick.

  It’s just dancing, he told himself. But he’d never been able to do things by halves, and Nick didn’t seem to be any different. Colin knew he wouldn’t be able to settle for just a dance before Nick went back to LA.

  “Hey, come dance with me,” he said because he couldn’t say something crazy like, come kiss me until we can’t breathe or come stay with me until you don’t want to leave.

  Nick looked up in surprise. He smiled. “I thought you’d never ask, O’Connor.”

  As they skirted the hot tub and headed towards the dance floor, if Colin let his fingers brush the small of Nick’s back, it was dark enough that it stayed between the two of them.

  Besides, Teddy, and now Boomer, knew. The rest of the team and then the world would know soon enough. He needed to learn what not hiding felt like.

  They made their way to the dance floor, and Colin realized it had only been a month since last time he’d danced with someone. He couldn’t even remember that man’s name, though at the time, losing even the tiny bit of normalcy he’d found that night had been the push he needed to reveal himself.

  But tonight, all Colin could think about was Nick.

  His dark hair shone under the stars, his smile soft and genuine as they turned towards each other. They were surrounded by hundreds of people, but with Nick’s eyes gazing at him, the rest of the real world seemed to fall away.