By late afternoon, I was going out of my damn mind. I’d taken a walk along the beach, stopping to play catch with a group of teen boys. Griffin smiled when our eyes met, as if silently telling me this was exactly what he wanted to capture for the show. We walked all the way down to the pier, where I stood watching the water, wishing it were possible to talk to the man who was there with me. I was still trying to guard myself, but we’d been damn good friends once upon a time. As much as I swore Griffin could be nothing more than a professional contact for a limited time, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a way we could get back to being friends. Friends who absolutely didn’t fool around, no matter how kissable his lips were or how much my fingers begged me to explore his body, to see how much he’d changed, and what’d stayed the same.
Seven
(Griffin)
The tension between Zach and me quickly dissolved, and we were working our way back to a tentative friendship. Each morning, I showed up at his place and watched him work on unpacking his boxes. As much as I wanted to help out— and I did, because his idea of unpacking was little more than opening boxes to see what was in them— there was no way to do that while staying off camera and blending into the background. By mid-afternoon a few days before he’d have to report to training camp, I decided there was more than enough footage of Zach digging through each box, mumbling about why his parents thought he’d want some of the shit that’d been in their garage for years. I packed my gear and set it near the front door, returning to the dining room to find Zach wrestling with a jumbled mess of cords.
“Here, let me help you with that,” I told him, reaching down to stop him before he resorted to a pocket knife as the easiest solution. “Why didn’t you wrap these before you boxed them?”
“I swear I did,” Zach responded, happily moving on to the next box. “I’m pretty sure there are cord gremlins that jump into the boxes and tangle that shit up just to piss me off.”
“Yep, I’m sure that’s it.” We both laughed and kept working.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Zach said as he brought over the last few boxes for us to sort through.
“That’s always dangerous,” I teased, causing him to pick up a stuffed wolf and throw it at me. I’d have given him a hard time about being a grown man with stuffed animals, but I knew that was one of the few things he wouldn’t bitch about his parents packing up for him. It was a souvenir from the first college football game he attended. “I know the network put you up in a hotel, but you really don’t have to go there every night. The bedroom on the top floor is furnished, so you could still have your privacy.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said, even though it pained me to do so. The walk back to the hotel every night gave me time to clear my head, remind myself that Zach was just being nice because it was easier for both of us than him giving me the cold shoulder. If we were under the same roof every minute of the day, I wasn’t sure I could keep my mind from grasping the feeble hope of a reconciliation.
“Whatever.” Zach shrugged and turned back to his box. “I just figured it might be more comfortable than a crappy hotel bed and people stomping up and down the hall all night. But you’re right, it was probably a shitty idea.”
There was a flash of sadness in his eyes, which Zach quickly schooled to stony indifference. Every once in a while, he bit the corner of his fingernail and glanced up at me, as though there was something more he wanted to say. My resolve cracked, knowing my refusal to accept his hospitality affected him. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
He flashed me a quick smile and a nod before setting back to his task. Before long, all of the boxes were unpacked, even though a lot of his belongings were neatly lined up on the floor until he figured out where to put them.
The house looked better without the wall of cardboard lining the dining room, but it was still devoid of any personal style. It seemed a waste to have this gorgeous home and not make it his own. We’d finally reached a point where I felt comfortable addressing the topic. “So, when’s the rest of the furniture being delivered?”
Zach looked around as if he was trying to figure out what he still needed. “Never? I didn’t want to get a bunch of shit I’m never going to use, so this is it.”
I shook my head, wondering how we’d ever gotten along as well as we had. Zach was all about function and I needed a bit of flair in my life. “What if you have people over? Where are they going to sit? You said you’re hoping Nate and his boyfriend come up and stay with you part of the season, do you think they’re going to sit on the back deck in December?”
“No?” Zach’s response came out more like a question than anything else. He truly hadn’t thought about what he was going to do with all this space. “Is this where you tell me I’m still doing that only thinking about myself thing? Because I really wasn’t trying to be a dick, I just had a bit of sticker shock when I saw how much everything I got cost.”
Zach had signed a contract that’d pay him over twenty million dollars for four years, and he was worried about how much he was spending. It was cute. But it was also going to wind up with everyone giving him a hard time when they came over, because there was no way he could have such an epic house and never host a party for his buddies. “You still have a problem spending money on yourself, don’t you? You do realize you make more money in a week than a lot of people make in a year, right?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to blow all of it on shit I’m not going to use,” he argued.
“Zach, just because your ass might not sit on it doesn’t mean it won’t be used. Don’t you want to invite people over to see your new digs?” He shrugged. “What about your dad? You said he wasn’t thrilled about you getting your own place. You have to prove to him that he was wrong and that you’re more than capable of being a mature adult. That includes putting together your home.”
Zach walked over to the counter, opened his wallet, and held out his credit card. “You want this place decorated, you do it.” He’d lost his damn mind. No way in hell could I poke around on the internet trying to figure out what he needed to furnish and decorate the house. “I’m serious, Grif. I only have a few days left before training camp starts and I’m not wasting it on this shit.”
“And asking your ex to do it for you makes total sense, right?” I asked sarcastically. We’d been careful to not speak about the past beyond the first night, but I didn’t miss the way Zach’s body tensed when I referred to myself as his ex. But that’s what I was. And that meant I had no business trying to make his house less sterile.
“Yeah, because I’m sure as hell not wasting my time doing it. If it bugs you so much, do it yourself.” Zach tossed the card on the counter and headed out the French doors and down to the beach. As much as I wanted to follow him and figure out why he was so upset over me pointing out what an absurd idea he’d thrown out, I couldn’t leave the house unlocked. Even if it was highly unlikely anyone would break in, I wasn’t about to take any chances with Zach’s security. The longer I stood there trying to figure out what to do, the more I questioned what I was doing here. I should’ve talked to Giles, explained the situation, and asked to trade assignments with one of the other cameramen. Hell, if I’d told Liam what was going on, he’d probably have switched with me.
I stepped onto the deck, shielding the sun from my eyes as I watched Zach wade into the surf. Had I not freaked out and run, we might’ve still been here together, but in better circumstances. Sure, I wouldn’t have been happy about being locked away in the closet, but we’d have been together. And I missed that. I wanted him as much now as I had when we were in college. Hated myself a bit for pissing that away, even though I knew logically it was the healthiest decision I could’ve made for myself. I’d never have been happy hiding away for him any more than he’d have been content feeling as though I wanted to force him to admit to the world who he was. Damn, it’d be nice if life was just a little easier to figure out.
Z
ach turned back toward the house and waved. As his face came into view, it seemed he was just as uncertain as I was. Before we could be forced into an uncomfortable conversation, my phone rang. “Hey Liam, what’s up?”
“Just wanted to check in and see how it’s going,” he responded. “Haven’t heard from you and I knew you were nervous before you left. Everything good there?”
“For the most part,” I answered. Professionally, things were going great as long as I didn’t worry about how pissed Giles was going to be when he saw there was no sensational footage of Zach’s prep for training camp. He was right; his life was what most people would consider normal and boring. There was nothing wrong with leading a normal life, but it didn’t make for good television.
“Good, good. Listen, if Zach’s coming to deShawn’s party tonight, you could take a night off,” Liam offered me. I knew about the party only because I’d overheard them talking about it after the production meeting. Since we’d headed down to the beach, Zach hadn’t mentioned anything. “I’m offering the same to everyone on our crew. I have to be here since deShawn’s hosting, but that doesn’t mean everyone needs to follow. It actually makes the players uncomfortable when there are too many cameras following them while they’re trying to cut loose a bit. Plus, life’s going to be crazy busy once we all head back up to Raleigh, so you might as well enjoy a bit of downtime.”
“Oh, of course.” How did I tell him I didn’t want the night off? If Zach was going to be there, I wanted to go as well, because it was a safe way for me to be around him. Then again, that was exactly why I should take Liam up on his offer. I couldn’t let the lines between us blur. Zach had made it clear that even though we were talking again, we weren’t going to pick up where we left off. I had to respect that decision. It felt as though the universe was throwing everything it could my way to test my commitment to honor Zach’s wishes. “I’ll talk to him and see what he wants to do.”
“Sounds good.” Liam got quiet for a moment, but his heavy breathing told me he was thinking about saying something he wasn’t sure he wanted to. When he worked up the courage to continue, I felt as though I’d been kicked in the gut. “Griffin, you need to get him to come to the party. From the sounds of it, he said something to the coach last week and Giles is hoping he’ll open up to his teammates a bit.”
Motherfucker. I wanted to find Giles and kick him in the teeth. Even if Liam didn’t know what had been shared, I did. And just as I thought, Giles had caught wind of it and hoped to create drama for the show. No doubt a player coming out to his teammates would be a ratings boost. If this was the way the entire season was going to go, there was no hope for Zach and me to continue talking once filming wrapped.
“And how, exactly, do you propose I convince him to go to this party and share whatever it was he told Coach?” I was pissed now. It wasn’t Liam’s fault. He was probably doing exactly what he’d been instructed to do. This was one of those moments where reality television wasn’t as raw and unscripted as they liked the viewing public to believe. This was carefully orchestrated, contrived drama, at the expense of one man’s reputation. “If I’m not supposed to talk to him, how am I supposed to convince him to go to a party he hasn’t even mentioned to me? And even if I did, why would he listen to me?”
“Something tells me he’ll go if you talk to him,” Liam responded. His resigned sigh was the only indication he wasn’t comfortable with his instructions any more than I was. “I know you haven’t been on the crew long, but you seem like a good guy. There are times when we have to guide the players in a certain direction. It’s not like we’re telling them to do something they wouldn’t normally do, just convincing them to not zone out in front of the TV the entire time. You can’t tell me you honestly thought the production team just has us follow these guys everywhere they go.”
“No, I suppose not,” I conceded, debating whether I wanted to know how much of what happened was carefully planned out. I decided it was better if I didn’t know, because at least that way I had plausible deniability. If I didn’t know, Zach couldn’t accuse me of helping them destroy his career. Well, he could still accuse me, but I could look at him with a clear conscience and tell him I didn’t know what was going on. But I really needed to get Liam off the phone, because Zach was almost to the stairs at the bottom of the deck and I didn’t want him knowing I’d been put up to what I was about to do. “I’ll do what I can. No promises. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Zach, it’s that he doesn’t like anyone making decisions for him or trying to tell him what to do.”
“Thanks, Griffin.” Liam sounded relieved that I was at least willing to try talking to Zach. I still had no clue how I was going to convince him that he should come out to his teammates, but regardless of the camera that’d be recording the party, it wasn’t a bad idea. Now that Coach Rodgers knew, it was only a matter of time before it started to leak out, and it’d be worse for him if his teammates felt like he’d lied to them.
Shit, this wasn’t going to be fun. We’d had this fight before. Many times. And every time, it ended with one of us storming off and not speaking to the other until we cooled down. I disconnected the call and slipped the phone into my pocket. Zach offered me a nervous smile as he climbed the stairs. My stomach flipped again. I hated myself, but knew at the same time it was better for me to be here with him than someone who didn’t know him. At least I gave a damn what happened to him.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he passed me on his way into the kitchen. He started pulling out some cold cuts and bread to make himself a sandwich. “You want one?”
I had been thinking about getting something to eat, but since talking to Liam, my appetite had pretty much vanished. I shook my head, leaning against the counter across from Zach, trying to act casual. “Hey, are you going to deShawn’s party tonight?”
Zach shrugged, every muscle in his back rippling with the action. “Not sure, why? You want to tag along so you can perv on my teammates? Couldn’t blame you if you did, they’re some great-looking guys. But this isn’t the hipster crowd you like to hang out with. You cop a feel or stare too long at the wrong guy’s ass, someone’s going to notice. And they’re not going to take it well.”
I ground my teeth, trying to bite back every retort. My nails dug into my palms, a painful reminder that delivering the punch Zach had coming after implying I only wanted to go so I could ogle his teammates would be a bad idea. While he’d been civil for the most part since we’d talked the night we got here, every once in a while, he slipped into this macho bullshit alter ego I wanted to slap into next week. Knowing him as well as I did, I realized he was trying to remind himself how different our lives were, but he was such a dick about it I also knew he was jealous that I was out and proud, living the life he still couldn’t even imagine. In his mind, I had what he wanted; a life without lies and the career I’d always wanted. Little did he know what a lonely existence I had. Despite our issues, no one else measured up to what Zach and I had shared, which meant it was easier to hook up than chase after something I’d never have.
It was a dangerous move, but I decided to toy with him just a bit. I closed the space between us, caging him against the counter with my arms. When I leaned close enough to whisper in his ear, I couldn’t help but inhale deeply to see if he still smelled the same as he did when I used to fall asleep with my head on his chest. There was familiarity there, but he’d changed his cologne sometime in the past few years. It wasn’t unpleasant, just different. “Believe me, there’s only one man who’ll be at that party I’d want to perv on. But you’re right, he wouldn’t take that well at all.”
Zach’s jaw twitched as he bit back a pissy response. I turned to walk away, leaving him to wonder if I was flirting or if there was someone else on the team I’d set my sights on. Surely, he couldn’t be that stupid, but time would tell. Right now, I needed to give both of us a little space to cool down, but after that, I was going to stay close enough to Zach that he couldn’t
ignore whatever it was he was feeling toward me. That meant I was going to have to call Liam and find a way to get him to agree that having at least a second cameraman at the party wouldn’t be an imposition. No way in hell was I taking tonight off.
Eight
(Zach)
Griffin didn’t say a word to me a few hours later when he walked through the house, grabbed his camera bag from just inside the back doors, and left. I’d been avoiding him since he’d made his little comment about there only being one Breaker he wanted to perv on. I thought he meant me, but he’d promised me repeatedly that he wasn’t there to spark an old flame. And I trusted him. But damn if it didn’t make me jealous to think about him flirting with one of my teammates. The more time we spent together, the more I missed him. I still wanted him and it was getting harder to lie to myself, even if I knew staying away from him was the right thing for my career.
Now that I had the house to myself, I decided to call Nate and ask his advice. He’d be pissed that I hadn’t told him sooner about Griffin being here, but he’d understand. Probably. Maybe. The phone rang four times before Nate’s voice mail message started. “Hey man, just calling to see how things are going for you… Give me a call sometime.”
After hanging up, I hoped my message didn’t sound too needy. Nate was finally living for himself, and I didn’t want him thinking I was falling apart without him by my side. I was, but it was time for us to act like grown men, not the little kids who used to sleep together because we could gang up on the monsters lurking under the bed. The house was quiet without Griffin there. Too quiet, because it gave me time to think. Coach had called earlier and suggested that I find time to come out to some of my teammates before training camp, because if I was honest with the guys I was closest to, they’d be there when others found out. It was sound advice, but it was also why I’d been trying to avoid deShawn’s party. If I went, Coach’s words would eat away at me until I pulled my friend aside, and I didn’t want to ruin the party his wife had planned as their one last hurrah before the end of the off-season.
Down By Contact (Wilmington Breakers Book 1) Page 6