by Eden Finley
Even if this money would set me and my siblings up for our entire lives, it’s not worth losing Noah over. Not to mention every time I’d put on a Cougar’s jersey, I’d be wearing my guilt. My shame. My sellout.
Fuck that.
“Thanks, but I’m gonna have to politely decline. If Noah doesn’t want me around anymore, it’s up to him to tell me.”
“You don’t have to answer right away. Sleep on it,” his dad says.
“I don’t need to. I’m not accepting a bribe.” I turn to Rick. “You’re lucky if I don’t go to the league about this.” I stand from my seat and place both my hands on the oversized desk that’s probably overcompensating for something lacking in his life and lean in to get in Mr. Huntington’s face. “I can’t be bought. You forget I grew up poor. Money means nothing to me, because I know I’ll survive without it.”
“Will you be able to survive without football?”
I falter, because I don’t know the answer to that question. Football has been my everything for as long as I can remember.
“I know you care about Noah,” Mr. Huntington says. “So do I. Which is why it’s best for everyone if you step back. I’d hate to think how he’d feel if you gave up football for him when you two don’t have a future. You wouldn’t want to come between him and his new charity, would you?”
I’m not sure if that’s a threat or actual concern for Noah’s new venture that he’s extremely invested in. Noah once told me he doesn’t care about anything. He doesn’t have a passion. But ever since he came home and told us about the charity, I’ve never seen him more focused.
I want to ask him to clarify what he means, but before I can, he says, “Think on the deal. You want back in the NFL, and this is your in.”
I turn to Mr. Douglas. “No offense, but you look as happy about this situation as I do.” I look back to Noah’s dad. “There’s no point being in this city if I can’t be with Noah.”
Truer words have never been spoken, and that’s when I realize I’m falling for the guy.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
“Yes, well, if I had friends on the West Coast, they’d be sitting here instead of Rick,” Mr. Huntington says.
I have to get out of this office before I do something I regret—like confess my true feelings for Noah to the man who wants me to leave and the other who could break my career in half. I storm out, trying to keep hold of any type of composure, but I only make it to the lobby when black spots cloud my vision and I have to stop.
My hands go to my knees, and my head slumps.
“Mr. Jackson, are you okay?” the receptionist asks.
I wave her off but don’t stand back upright yet. If only I could just … breathe.
“You did the right thing.” Rick’s voice is the thing that brings me out of it.
I stand tall—totally faking any resemblance to confidence. “How could you have put your team on the line like that? It’s clear you don’t want to sign me.” My chest rises and falls, and this guy can’t even give me the respect to look me in the eye.
“You know in movies where the bad guy does the good guy a favor and says ‘Just repay it when the time comes’?”
“Yeah?”
“The time has come for me to pay my debt, but I’m glad you have the morals of a saint. Not many would’ve turned down a multi-million-dollar contract like that.”
“Well, relax. I’m not interested in a deal where I’m sure to keep my bank account stuffed but the bench warmed.”
The Cougars’ tight end bench is deep, but the lack of playing time would’ve been worth staying with Noah if the offer was real, but it’s not. Rick would sign me in name only, and I’d have to give up Noah for it. Then Rick would either cut me or not find any field time for me.
Rick extends his hand for me to shake. “I thought … when he tried to set this up, I thought it was you using your connections to get a contract. I … I’m sorry I misjudged you.” He looks away again, breaking eye contact, and I already know I won’t like what he has to say next. “I’ve already sent the offer to your agent. Noah was adamant you would’ve taken it, so it was sent before we even had the meeting.”
I scoff. “He wasn’t adamant. My agent will encourage me to take New York because it’s more money. Mr. Huntington is trying to push me into a corner.”
“Move to Chicago.”
“How did you know about Chicago?”
“Football’s a small world.”
Yet, he didn’t tell Noah’s dad about it, and I have to wonder why.
“And if you want my advice, don’t take your boyfriend into account. The Warriors are in need of someone like you.”
So is Noah, I can’t help thinking. From the beginning, I’ve been awed by him and his disregard for the shitty things in life. He owns it and his attitude. But that doesn’t mean he’s not hurting on the inside.
All I want to do is make Noah happy, even though he doesn’t want me to do that. And it’ll never happen with his dad breathing down our necks. Little does he know, I’m leaving Noah anyway. That was our deal. It doesn’t matter if I want more. I won’t become another Aron to him. I won’t go back on my word.
Maybe it’s time this thing ended earlier than we planned.
Damn it.
I storm out of Noah’s dad’s offices and hit the call button on my phone.
“Damon King.”
“Emergency meeting. Now.”
“Can you come to OTS?”
“Nope. But you can meet me at a bar.”
“It’s the middle of the day. Does this have anything to do with the offer from the Cougars?”
My long strides stop in the middle of the street. “You’ve already seen it.”
“It’s a great offer. We’re going to urge you to take it.”
“No fucking way am I touching that contract.”
“Matt, what aren’t you telling me? How did you know about the contract?”
“Come meet me.”
“Do not walk into a bar in the middle of the day. The tabloids will go crazy. Where are you?”
I glance around at my surroundings, still unfamiliar with this city. “Midtown.”
“There’s an Italian restaurant two blocks away from OTS. Walk there, get a table, and order a drink. And some lunch. I’m on my way.”
Damon finds me with two scotches under my belt and an untouched chicken salad in front of me.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“I’m taking the Warriors’ deal.”
He pauses. “New York is more money. Like a shit ton more money.”
“It’s also more competition for field time. The Warriors need me. The Cougars don’t.”
“That’s a valid argument, but the money more than makes up for it, so that’s not why you’re saying no to this offer. Did something happen with Noah? Are you fighting or—”
“You know … about us?”
“Yeah. I know. Confronted Noah about it and told him to stop. He said he would, but I’ve also known the guy for eight years, so I knew he was lying. What happened? He break your heart and now you want to move? New York’s a big city. You won’t have to see him.”
“No one’s breaking anyone’s heart.” Not yet at least.
“Then I’m going to need a bigger explanation as to why you’d turn down a contract that’s more than you’re worth. No offense.”
I take a large gulp of my scotch and finish it off. “You guys didn’t wonder why a last-minute bid came in for the PR nightmare? If something’s too good to be true, it is.” I get the waitress’s attention and point to my empty glass.
Damon shoves my salad closer to me. “Eat something so you don’t get hammered on an empty stomach. Look, you need to tell me what’s going on. As you’re my client, I promise not to say anything to Noah or Maddox or anyone you don’t want me to.”
I sigh into my empty glass. “Rick Douglas is good friends with Noah’s dad. Although, considering he was blackmailed into giving me a
contract, I think friend is a pretty loose term.”
Damon blinks at me as the words tick over in his head.
“The terms of the agreement are I get the NFL back, and his son stops dating Matt Jackson and steps out of the spotlight.”
Damon loosens his tie, and as the waitress approaches with my drink, he takes it out of her hand and chugs it. “Gonna need another one.” He winces at the burn. “No, make it two.”
“Either contract, I’m screwed,” I say once the waitress is out of earshot once again.
“Noah said you guys were temporary anyway, so what would it matter?”
“I don’t care how temporary Noah and I are. I’m not doing that to him. Even without the bribe in play—if this were a real contract—I’ll be scrambling for field time. That’s even if I make it past training camp. The payoff isn’t the only deal breaker here.”
“You could go to the league about the bribe.”
“Fuck that. I’m already in the media enough. I don’t want to add blackmailing scandal to the list.”
He purses his lips. “You should tell Noah about his father.”
I shake my head. “Not gonna hurt him like that. There’s no point. I’m not taking the deal.”
Damon’s fingers drum on the tablecloth as he eyes me. “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” I ask in exasperation.
“Did you ever wonder why Noah went to Newport instead of an Ivy League? He could’ve bought his way into anywhere—not to mention his entire family are Harvard alums—so why go to Newport? We couldn’t work it out. I remembered seeing Noah freshman year. I mean, he’s Noah. You can’t not walk past him and ignore the fact he’s insanely hot and moves like he owns everything. He was always with this other guy. We suspected they were together, but they were never blatantly obvious.”
“Where’re you going with this?” I know exactly where he’s going with this, but Noah claims his friends don’t know.
“Sophomore year, Noah comes back to school alone. Joins all the LGBTQ unions and starts sleeping around. When we became actual friends, I asked him what happened to the guy he always hung around with freshman year, and he shut down on me. He’d only tell us that he moved schools. We all figured that guy’s the reason Noah is … well, Noah-ish. We came up with theories. We’ve all met Noah’s dad, and we’ve all heard Noah complain about him. Doesn’t take a genius to work out a payoff was involved.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I try to keep my voice even.
Damon smiles. “You’re a horrible liar, and I take back what I said to Noah a few weeks back. The fact you want to protect him means you have my blessing. Not as your agent, but as his friend. If you want to be with him for real, you should tell him. As your agent, I have to tell you to take the New York deal, because that’s what my bosses will want you to do, but as your friend, I’m telling you I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
“Telling Noah will only make him feel guilty when he has to break up with me like he did with Aron. He didn’t mean to hurt Aron, but y’all made him feel terrible about it. I won’t put that on him. It’s my own fault. I broke our deal.”
“Maybe he’s broken your deal.”
I scoff. “Not likely. Like you say, he’s Noah.”
“He never told any of us the real story of what happened with his boyfriend in college. Not even Aron.”
“He wouldn’t have told me either had I not overheard it between him and his dad.”
Damon stands to leave. “I’ll get started on your Chicago paperwork. Unless you can think of a reason to stay in New York and retire from football after all?”
I don’t know what to say to that. If it comes to picking between football and Noah, I don’t know if I’m ready to make that decision. But if he asked me to be with him—give up the NFL and stay for him—I don’t think I’d be able to say no.
I’m so gone for this guy.
“Think about it and tell Noah how you feel. Let me know what you decide.”
Sure, because putting your heart on the line is that fucking easy.
Chapter Twenty
Noah
After meeting with one of the hosts of Rainbow Beds and getting a better idea of what I’d need to do to make the forum into a charity and turn it successful, I walk in the door to my townhouse and am almost bowled over by Jet coming the other way.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” I ask.
“Matt told me to go away for a few hours. You’re either in trouble or about to get laid, and I don’t want to be here for either, so I’m out.”
“Uh, okay. Umm … see ya.” I remain at the entrance, wondering what I could’ve done to piss Matt off but come up blank. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything though. Oblivious should be my middle name. Plus, I tend to do douchey things without realizing.
Inside is quiet when I grow the balls to make myself walk in farther. “Matt?”
“Bedroom,” he calls out.
I amble up the stairs, still confused, and I find Matt pacing the carpet of our—my bedroom. “Okay, what’s going on?” I ask.
Matt stalls and stares at me. His mouth opens but nothing comes out.
“You’re doing the stroking out thing you did when we first met.”
“Where were you?” he asks.
“Meeting with some people about the project. Why?”
He shakes his head. “Nothin’. Don’t matter.”
Don’t matter. Why’s his accent coming out? “What’s wrong?” I ask.
Matt fakes a smile and steps toward me. “Just want you.” He wastes no time as he ditches his shirt and then hooks his fingers into my belt loops and brings me against him. “Missed you.”
Missed me? He saw me this morning.
I’m still confused when our lips come together and his domineering tongue forces its way into my mouth. The Matt I know is passionate, but the aggression behind the kiss is desperate. Too desperate. A hand grips my hip tight, and the other snakes around my back to pull me closer.
My cock gets excited and wants to dive in, but my brain tells me there’s something wrong.
“Matt.” I try to back up, but he comes with me and kisses me again. I break away. “Matt.”
“I want this. Us.”
I stumble back. “Oh.” Is he saying what I think he’s saying, or am I reading into it because they’re the words I crave to hear?
“Wait, before you freak out, I mean I want this afternoon to be just us.”
My heart deflates. “I’m confused.”
“I … I saw Damon today.”
Realization cuts through my gut, and I want to vomit. “You’re moving to Chicago.”
His nod is subtle, but the slight movement is still enough to rip a hole in my fucking chest.
I force a small smile. “I think I’m supposed to say congratulations or whatever.”
“Unless …” He looks away. “Unless there’s a reason for me to stay here.” His voice goes up at the end, almost as if it’s a question, but at the same time it sounds like a statement.
Now’s the time to lay it out there. I want him to pick me. Love me. Make me his life instead of football. Then I recoil at the notion. I have no right asking anyone to choose me, even if I desperately want them to.
I didn’t mean to fall for Matt, and I never in a million years expected to, but I care for him more than I care about myself and that’s never happened to me before. Except maybe with Nathaniel and look at how well that turned out.
“There isn’t a single reason to give up football.” I hate that I can’t tell the guy how much I want him to stay, but if I forced him to do that, he’d eventually resent me. He can’t give up his career for someone he has no future with. And I’m not under any illusion that we’d make it in the long run.
Dad’s been vocal about not wanting us together. It’s only a matter of time before he makes a move and Matt does what Nathaniel did to me.
This is the right call.
“So, this is it then,” Matt says.
“No. Nowhere near it.” I pull him forward by his belt and bring him against me again. “We have until you go. And then public appearances. We won’t be together, but I want to keep seeing you.”
“Like a fuck buddy situation?”
God, I want to hold onto anything he’s willing to give me, but I don’t think my heart could take it. “Like a we’re always going to be friends type situation.”
“Friends.” He practically gags on the word, and I don’t blame him.
“We knew this had an expiration date. Now we know when it is.”
“Training camp’s in a few weeks. I need to be in Chicago before that to find a place to live, and—”
“Maybe I can help you find a place.” I hold my breath, preparing for him to cut ties right here and now.
“You’d … you’d come to Chicago?”
The second you asked me to.
That’s not what I say, though. “This started out as doing each other a favor, but I can honestly say you know me better than anyone else in my life. I’ll help you get settled in Chicago any way I can, and I’ll always be here for you.”
“Right. Settled.” Matt tries to step back, but I don’t let him.
“Babe,” I murmur. “I still have the right to call you that a while longer, and I don’t want this to end on a bad note.”
He stiffens as my arms snake around him and I bury my head in his neck.
There’s so many unspoken words between us, but we’re both too chickenshit to bring them up.
“I want you to know you’re important to me.”
Matt’s hands wander down my back. “Be with me,” he whispers.
I wonder if he realizes how that sounds, but before I can ask him to, he clarifies.
“I don’t want to wait anymore. I wanted you to fuck me the day I met you, and—”
“Liar,” I say with a chuckle.
“Okay, fine. Like a week after I met you and you let me past all your bullshit. But that doesn’t change the fact I want you inside me.”
I groan. “Matt—”