Down By Contact (Wilmington Breakers Book 1)

by Johnson, Sloan

  I closed my eyes, wishing we weren’t having this conversation over the phone. Yes, I felt every bit of frustration he heard in my little rant, but that was something I should’ve been allowed to say to his face. We should’ve had the opportunity to work through my insecurities in private, like any other couple. But no, this stupid fucking TV show had to strip that away from us.

  “Yeah, it is,” I admitted. “But we can talk about that later. Was that the big emergency?”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m surprised you’re not pissed off,” he responded. “I was ready for an epic Zach blowup; I’m not sure how to handle you being so calm about everything.”

  “Babe, we both knew this was going to happen eventually. In a way, I’m relieved to know it’ll finally be out in the open.” Once that trailer was live, there’d be no reason for me to hole myself up in my dorm room, wishing I could be spending the evening with Griffin. Hell, we could even be like normal people and go out to eat or to see a movie if we wanted to. “But I meant it when I said they can’t use that footage. Lincoln said some stuff when we were talking that I know he wouldn’t have said if he knew there was a camera rolling.”

  Hell, I was going to have to walk back in there and tell Lincoln and Nixon what was going on. Nixon hadn’t said anything when we were still at the hotel just off-campus, so his secret was safe. But still, this had the potential to affect the entire team, so the coaches needed to be prepared.

  “There’s something else,” Griffin admitted, sucking in a breath sharply enough I could hear his inhalation through the line.

  “What?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, because I wasn’t sure how much calm I had left in me and I was trying really hard to remember that Griffin was only the messenger.

  “They know about us,” he said, so quietly I barely heard him over the sound of traffic on the street below.

  “We knew that already,” I reminded him. He’d tracked me down the night I ran out of Coach’s office, wanting to keep running until I collapsed, because that was easier than facing Griffin or anyone else.

  “Yeah, but they want us on camera,” he told me, sounding uncertain about how I’d react. I wished he was here with me so I could pull him into the chair beside me and hold him. This wasn’t his fault, but I knew he was blaming himself.

  “How’s that supposed to work if you’re behind the camera all the time?” I asked. It seemed like a valid question, but I knew there’d be plans in place to make this happen. “Wait, they didn’t fire you, did they? I swear, if they did, we’ll call PJ in the morning and get the name of the best damn lawyer we can find. He had someone all lined up just in case he needed their help when he and Nate got together. They’re not getting away with this. You busted your ass for them. You didn’t walk away when you had a feeling they were up to something. They’re not going to shit all over you!”

  I’d forgotten that I wasn’t truly someplace private, and apparently my voice carried. Lincoln appeared behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Everything okay?”

  Shit. I needed to tell him what was going on. He needed to know that what he’d shared in confidence could easily be public knowledge within hours. What was that going to do to him? How was he going to take the news? Would he blame me for having a hand in outing him? I’d deal with that in a minute; first, I needed to find out if my boyfriend was okay. I held up a finger before waving Lincoln away. He nodded and went back inside.

  “Chill, Zach,” Griffin urged me. “They’re not firing me. They can’t. Giles admitted to me that someone had uncovered pictures of us from college before I was even offered the job. It’s why I was given a contract. They were hoping for fireworks when you and I got back together. More than likely, they figured it wouldn’t matter if I was behind the camera as long as there was someone else filming at the same time. In a way, this works better.”

  “How in the hell do you figure?” I was pissed off, knowing the entire season had been planned around outing me, but I couldn’t go off the way I wanted, because if not for the show I was certain Griffin and I wouldn’t have gotten back to where we were.

  “If there’d been a public fight, they could’ve claimed I had a role in it,” he told me. “Then, they’d have been justified in showing me the door. But now that I know this was all a setup, I’ve got them by the balls. If they try to fire me, or if they try to humiliate you, I can remind them I’m aware of their plans.”

  “Could it be that simple?” It felt like too easy of a solution to all my problems. What Griffin was laying out was a way for me to come out of the closet without it seeming like I’d wanted to make a grand entrance into the gay world, and a way for us to spend some time together before the start of the season. In my experience, nothing worthwhile came without a hell of a set of hurdles.

  “Probably not.” Griffin laughed weakly. “But we need to assume it is, because I don’t want to waste the time we’ll have together worrying about what’s going to happen next. And if you can arrange it, I’d like a chance to sit down with Nixon and Coach Rodgers to talk about how we move forward without turning the show into a soap opera, no matter how much the network would like that. There were some good ideas thrown around after you stormed out last week, but now we need to turn those ideas into a plan.”

  “You guys were talking about me when I wasn’t there?” Griffin had admitted that he’d confirmed their suspicions almost as soon as he’d found me propped against a tree trying to catch my breath the night of my endless run. I hadn’t been happy about it, but I hadn’t been as angry as Griffin had expected, either. It seemed I was all too willing to let other people take control of how and when I came out. That revelation didn’t sit well with me.

  “Yeah, we were,” he admitted. “Don’t act like it’s a bad thing. They’re worried about you. I’m worried about you. As much as you think the entire world’s going to come crashing down around you the second people find out you’re gay, it’s not. There are a lot of people who still want to watch you go out there and kick ass on the field every week.”

  “You’re right. Fuck, you’re almost always right.” While he didn’t always go about things the right way, there was no denying that Griffin was one of two people I could count on to always have my best interests in mind. “I’m still with Nixon and Lincoln, so maybe they’ll be able to see if Coach can pick you up and give you a ride over here. I don’t want to talk about anything on campus right now. After the shit you just told me, I can’t trust there won’t be cameras hidden in the ceiling.”

  “Don’t blame you a bit. I’m actually on my way to the admin building right now,” he informed me. There was a rustling on the line, followed by muffled voices in the background. “Why don’t you go tell Nixon and Lincoln what’s going on, I’ll talk to Coach, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Okay.” I was holding back. I wanted to tell Griffin how much I loved and appreciated him, but again, that was the type of shit I preferred saving for in-person. In the end, I decided to finish the call with a simple, “Love you.”

  “I know,” he responded. “It’ll all be okay. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Back inside, Nixon and Lincoln were sitting a little too close to one another on the couch, watching me as they spoke in hushed tones. There was definitely chemistry there; it was a shame they didn’t see it. Nixon motioned for me to have a seat in the club chair beside the couch. “Care to tell us what that was all about?”

  I relayed everything Griffin had shared with me. My stomach churned as I waited for any sign of a reaction from either of them. Nixon picked up his phone in the middle of my story to text Coach and tell him to grab Griffin and get to the condo. Soon after, Nixon reached out and took Lincoln’s hand in his, which made all of us smile, but no one acknowledged the shared affection. Whatever they shared, they were fools for not seeing it.

  “I don’t think they’ll say anything about you, Linc.” It was good that one of us had faith the sleazy-ass production company would protect Lincoln�
�s secret. “There’s nothing to be gained by outing you. Sure, it’s not like guys are coming out every week, but it’s not newsworthy for a retired player to admit that he’s gay.”

  “But what if they do?” I asked, staring at the floor as I wrung my hands. “None of us know what they’re planning. For all we know, they’ll see this as getting a two-for-one deal.”

  “Nope, not going to happen,” Lincoln insisted, agreeing with Nixon. “While I never made an announcement about my sexuality, I haven’t exactly been discreet recently. It won’t take anything more than a Google search of my name to find pictures of me at dinner with men.”

  “You’re dating?” Nixon asked, backing away as he tried to keep his tone playful. He wasn’t fooling anyone; the man was jealous. And maybe hurt. Yeah, they totally needed to get their heads out of their asses, because there was something there.

  “No, nothing like that,” Lincoln reassured him. “More like I’ve been testing the waters. When I do find someone I want to settle down with, I don’t want them subjected to the hype. I don’t want them to feel like a circus freak show because they’re dating a former football player. So far, no one’s said a word.”

  Lincoln then turned his attention back to me. Earlier in the day, I’d felt as though he was putting on an act, saying all the words he’d been paid to say, regardless of whether or not he believed them. Now, I was beginning to see he was the perfect man to have speaking about work/life balance, because no one struggled more with that than someone who had to hide a huge part of his life. “Zach, I know you’re worried about how this will impact me, but please don’t. The people who truly matter in my life already know I’m gay, so whatever happens, we’ll roll with it. Right now, we’d all be better off trying to come up with a plan to protect you.”

  “I don’t need protection,” I argued. “I’ve known this was going to happen eventually, and honestly, I’m relieved.”

  “That may be the case, but that doesn’t mean life is going to be easy for you now,” Nixon added. I jumped at the sound of the buzzer, and Nixon patted my shoulder as he crossed the room to allow Coach and Griffin entrance. “Like it or not, your entire life is going to be under a microscope. The good news is you seem to be fairly smitten with Griffin, so it won’t be hard for you to show the world that it’s possible for even a gay player to be in a healthy relationship.”

  Nixon opened the door before I could point out that what Griffin and I shared couldn’t be classified as healthy by most people’s definitions. Our connection was about as fragile as spun sugar, and there’d be no time to work on us when I was busy getting ready for the season. By the time I was able to prove to Griffin that I wanted him in my life, who knew where he’d be; probably on the opposite side of the country, busy with his next project.

  Griffin and I locked eyes as he followed Coach into the living room. He paused, unsure if he should get too close to me. Even though I knew why he was so reluctant, it seemed like the perfect time to show him I was through hiding him. My chest tightened as I crossed the room to him, holding out a hand to pull him into my arms. I closed my eyes, reminding myself we were safe here. If I didn’t give my permission, the three men I could feel watching us would never speak a word of my love for Grif. I’d spent our entire first relationship going out of my way to avoid showing anything that could be correctly interpreted as affection, but now, I wanted nothing more than to walk hand-in-hand across the entire campus, making a very clear statement. I was his, he was mine, and anyone who had a problem with that could go fuck themselves.

  Lincoln had moved to the chair I’d previously been sitting in and Nixon led Coach over to the dining area to get a rundown of what’d been going on in the past few hours, so I intertwined Griffin’s fingers with my own and led him to the couch. When he tried putting space between us, I squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to do that. Stay here.”

  “Are you sure?” Griffin’s eyes grew wide and I half expected him to lean in, trying to smell alcohol on my breath. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Zach.”

  “They all know about us. Soon, everyone will. Seems pretty silly to try and push you away now,” I admitted, feeling stronger emotionally than I had in a long time. Finally, I could trust what I was saying, rather than working hard to convince myself. “Things are going to change, but I promise you, they’re going to be better.”

  “They already are.” Heat flushed through my body as Griffin did something we’d never done in all the time we spent together. He leaned in and oh so tenderly pressed his lips against mine. Cautiously, as though testing to see if I was seriously easing my stance on PDA. I was, and I proved it to him by wrapping my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, desperate to taste him. Griffin whimpered, or maybe that sound came from me, as our tongues twisted and teased around one another. Still holding him, I ran my free hand down his side, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

  “Uh, boys, as sweet as it is to see you lovebirds ready to jump one another’s bones, there is work to get done.” We sprang apart at the sound of Nixon’s voice breaking through the haze. I waited for the embarrassment or anger to seep into my body, but it never came. Things were definitely looking up.

  Twenty

  (Griffin)

  Three hours later, Zach and I were in the backseat of Lincoln’s car headed to the hotel where this whole clusterfuck started. Zach protested the decision, but everyone else agreed it would be for the best if he laid low until the next morning, when the coaching staff would meet with the rest of the team to fill them in on the direction the network had decided to go this season. The dim light in the car created highlights and shadows, making the muscles in Zach’s jaw more prominent, almost menacing as he ground his teeth. I knew him well enough to know he hated feeling so out of control, but he’d begrudgingly admitted he needed to leave some of these decisions up to other people.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.

  “I know that,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. This is bullshit. You seriously think anyone on the team is going to respect me when they’re stuck in a shitty dorm room while I’m sequestered in a swank hotel room?”

  “No, I think they’re going to respect the hell out of you for letting this news go public even though it scares you,” I insisted. “The only reason they’re going to be upset is because you’ve hidden for so long.”

  “I had to,” Zach argued, sliding across the seat to plaster himself against the window. Damn. I was really screwing this up. “Things are so easy in your world. You’re almost expected to be different. That’s not the world I live in. In my world, I’m expected to exude masculinity, conform to the stereotypes crafted by those who came before me. There’s no room for anything outside the fucking norm.”

  “Zach, cool it,” Lincoln warned from the front seat. “He’s on your side. Remember that before you go and piss him off.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, ignoring the stab of pain when I reached out for Zach and he turned away from me. If there was one thing I had plenty of experience with, it was dealing with Zach’s outbursts. They hurt, but I knew he was only doing it because he trusted me enough to lash out, knowing he couldn’t chase me away. Except, I had run in the past. Not this time. This time, I’d deal with the pain, reminding myself that it’d be worth it once he pulled his head out of his ass. Which he would. He had to. “Babe, I know why you felt like you had no choice when it came to hiding. I hated every second of it, but I understood.”

  “I know,” he grumbled. “I just… I’m all fucked up in the head right now. Maybe you should just go back to your dorm tonight.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” I responded firmly, sliding across the seat so there wasn’t an inch of space between us. “I know this thing between us is still new, but at the same time, it’s not. If I’m going to trust that you’re going to be honest about who you are, then you have
to trust me when I say I’m not leaving you. No matter what, I’m going to be here for you through the good times and bad.”

  Zach placed a hand on my knee, still gazing out the window at the passing buildings. “I know. And I want to believe you, but it’s not that easy for me. I fucked up majorly in the past and I can’t guarantee I won’t do it again. And I’m not sure I’ll make it through watching you walk away again.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out if you can survive or not,” I reiterated. If I told him enough times in enough ways that I wasn’t going to leave him again, maybe he’d start to believe me.

  Lincoln pulled up in front of the hotel and handed me a key card before stepping out to give his keys to the valet. “Take him to room 147. I’m going to register another room for you guys and bring the keys up.”

  “Thanks, Lincoln,” Zach said, his voice thick with emotion. He really didn’t trust that so many of us were here for him, no matter what.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I slid out of the car after Zach, steeling myself for the twinge of bitterness when he sidestepped to put space between us. I was so caught off guard when he curled me against his side that I nearly tripped over my own feet. My heart raced because this was another first for us; without thinking about who might be watching us, he was staking his claim. If anyone noticed Zach walking through the lobby, holding my hand as though he was scared I’d slip away if he let go, no one said a word about it. That was good. Every time we were out in public without a scene would bolster Zach’s resolve to live his life out in the open. He needed this. We needed this.

  “I love you, Zach. So much,” I whispered as we waited for the elevator doors to open. “So proud of you right now.”

  Zach shrugged and didn’t respond. His reaction hurt, but I had to remember this was all new for him. No matter what brave face he put on, we both knew we were jumping into a murky pool of uncertainty. We could talk about how we hoped his coming out would go, but neither of us knew how his teammates and the public would react. It wasn’t his teammates I worried about. The few players who knew had vowed to have his back so he’d be sheltered in the locker room. It was everyone else, mostly the faceless assholes sitting behind their computer screens, who concerned me. Zach was going to see plenty of support, but I knew there would also be pricks talking shit in their online forums about how a gay man has no place in a “real man’s” sport.