With the funeral director’s words ringing in his ears, he arranged to have Len cremated without fanfare, without a funeral or memorial service, without the press finding out anything. They would have Len’s ashes scattered in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Orange County near his father’s flagship hotel, Sterling Inn Spa and Resort. Reed figured Len’s father would have appreciated that even if Len himself wouldn’t have. Len had hated the hotels that had provided the funds for his hedonistic lifestyle. And now the hotels belonged to Reed.
Once he’d completed the final arrangements for Len, Reed drove back to the house in Brentwood. He passed through the small crowd of press outside the gates, ignoring them completely. Inside the house, he packed for the Stars’ next game which was in Denver.
The coach and Darcy had told him to take some time off, but Reed couldn’t. He needed to play. He also needed to be with Evan whom he hadn’t seen since the morning Len died.
With a shudder, Reed flopped down on his bed. The night he’d spent with Evan weighed heavily on his mind, the memories bittersweet and so hot they would melt an iceberg. It had been everything he’d ever dreamed of, and then some. Being with Evan had elevated sex to a level Reed hadn’t experienced before, and he wanted more. But he was afraid. Evan had been strangely silent and subdued since that night, and Reed feared Evan regretted what had happened between them. Reed didn’t regret one moment even though he’d felt a measure of guilt over being so happy with Evan while Len was so ill. He also worried that his desperate need for Evan’s touch had made his lover feel he would have done anything to get the man into bed. After what Len had done to him, he would never resort to such means to be with Evan, but he had no idea what Evan thought.
Cock aching at the memory of what Evan had done to him that night, Reed reached for his phone and called his best friend.
“Hello?”
A laughing voice that was not Evan’s answered, and Reed stiffened.
“Where’s Evan?”
A beat of silence followed his words; then he recognized the deep, refined tones of Bryce Richardson’s voice.
“Reed. Hang on a moment, and I’ll get him.”
Jealousy sliced through Reed. He’d forgotten all about Bryce. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to think about the older sophisticated man who was Evan’s sometime lover. God knew he didn’t want to think about Evan belonging to anyone but him. His stomach knotted painfully as doubt clouded his brain.
“Reed? Are you okay?”
Evan sounded breathless, and for a brief moment, Reed wondered if he’d caught the men in bed. His stomach lurched, the knotting sensation twisting his gut.
“Yeah. I just finished at the funeral home,” he croaked out.
“When’s the funeral?” Evan asked, his breath calming.
“Never. I’m not having one. They’re going to cremate him and scatter his ashes in the ocean near the first hotel his father built,” Reed said softly. “He had no family, and his friends were a bunch of dilettantes who only hung out with him because he spent money freely and they could fuck him bare. I’m not paying for a service for them to come and cry crocodile tears over his casket. In the past six months while he was dying no one came to see him unless they wanted money.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Len reaped what he sowed.” Reed’s ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Mostly, he’d become resigned to what had happened in his relationship with Len. His anger had begun to fade, especially once Len had died.
“I’m still sorry. Sorry you had to go through all this and sorry he couldn’t be happy with just you. He must have been miserable inside.”
Evan’s voice held deep sympathy, and Reed gritted his teeth. He didn’t want Evan to feel sorry for him. He wanted Evan to want him, love him, need him.
“Dr. Kovacs said Len had been like that his whole life. Uncontrollable and uncaring of his own health and well-being.” Reed swallowed hard and changed the subject. “Look, I’m sorry I interrupted you and Bryce. I just called to tell you I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport.”
“You’re going to Denver?” Evan’s voice held surprise. “I thought Coach told you to stay home?”
Reed snorted in derision. “For what? All I have in this world is football, Evan. I’m not going to sit at home on my ass when I could be playing.”
“Do you need me to come over?”
The sympathy in Evan’s voice deepened, and Reed wanted to punch something. “No,” he lied. “I don’t need you to stop what you and Bryce are doing so you can come over and babysit my ass.”
A stunned silence fell between them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered finally and hung up.
Tears burned beneath his closed eyelids. He wanted Evan so badly he shook with it, but his pride wouldn’t let him call back and apologize. Feeling stifled, he grabbed his keys and left the house, his Escalade skidding a little as he spun out of the driveway, narrowly missing a tabloid photographer.
A few miles down the road, he pulled over at a realty office and marched inside. “Is your manager here?” he growled at the woman behind the reception desk.
“Y-yes,” she stammered and picked up her phone.
Reed looked up as a dapper man in his late thirties walked up. He had dark hair and eyes and a goatee with a bit of silver in it. He made a motion at the receptionist with one hand.
“It’s okay, Joanne. I’ll take care of the client.” He smiled at Reed. “Can I help you, Mr. Matthews?”
“You know me.” Reed didn’t phrase the words as a question.
The man nodded. “I’m a fan.” He held out his hand as he introduced himself. “David Nathanson. Come into my office and tell me what I can do for the number one draft pick.”
Reed shook the man’s hand and let him lead the way to a comfortable office. He sat down, and David Nathanson sat behind his desk, gazing at him expectantly.
“I just inherited a house in Brentwood. I want to sell it. I believe I also own a house in Malibu as well. I want to sell that too,” he said in a hard voice.
David Nathanson’s brows rose. “Are you selling Sterling Hotels as well?” he asked, showing Reed the man knew exactly who he was and what he’d just inherited.
He shook his head, feeling some of his anger dissipate under the man’s cool, assessing gaze. “No. I want those. Playing football isn’t something I can do forever, and I’ve never made any plans for a future after the NFL. For now, those hotels constitute my retirement fund for when I leave the game.”
“So the signing bonus and big-time contract aren’t enough?”
Reed laughed, glad the man didn’t pull any punches. “No. If I don’t last the full four years, I won’t collect all the contract money anyway.”
“You’re anticipating not lasting four years in the NFL?”
Reed shrugged, his gaze holding the realtor’s. “I anticipate the unknown. Anything can happen as I’ve discovered over the past six months. Even things you’d swear could never occur. Life has no guarantees.”
David Nathanson inclined his head. “This is true. So you want me to sell the houses. Do you want to buy something else?”
“No. I’ll live in one of the hotels. I don’t want a house.”
A shrewd light entered the realtor’s eyes. “You can’t run away from life forever, Mr. Matthews,” he said softly.
Reed barked out a laugh at the man’s uncanny understanding of Reed’s motives. “I can until the money runs out,” he replied, bitterness edging his words. “And that won’t be for a long-ass time.”
Evan stood alone at the windows when Reed got to their gate. No Bryce, thank God. He didn’t think he could bear to see the man with Evan ever again. After the way Evan had touched him, he didn’t want to think of Evan touching Bryce the same way. Jealousy ate him up inside and made his stomach burn with acid.
As he approached, Evan turned to face him.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m so
rry.”
The words left their mouths at the same time, and after a startled moment, they both grinned sheepishly.
“I’m not the best company in the world these days,” Reed admitted as he dropped his carry-on bag next to Evan’s.
“You weren’t interrupting anything. Bryce tried to grill a steak and caught it on fire. I put it out, and we were laughing at his feeble attempt to feed himself.” Evan shrugged. “He’s a great businessman, but he’s not at all the domestic type.”
“I see.” Reed looked away, trying to gather his courage to bring up the night before Len’s death. He glanced back at Evan and saw something dark swirling in his best friend’s blue eyes. “Evan, I wanted to talk to you about—“
Evan held up a hand and shook his head. “Don’t. Because of the circumstances, it’s probably better if we forget it ever happened. I’m sure we’ve both got a boatload of guilt over what we did, but it felt right at the time, so let’s just let it all go and forget about it. Chalk it up to the tension and emotion of the circumstances. I know you don’t want it to spoil our friendship, and I don’t want that either. So just let it go.”
Stunned at Evan’s pronouncement, Reed shut his mouth, his heart aching with the love he’d been about to offer to Evan and which apparently, despite the heat of the sex they’d shared, was still unrequited. He nodded and, swallowing hard to dislodge the painful lump in his throat, turned away to stare out at their plane.
They stood silently side by side for the next few minutes until an attendant called their flight. Reed struggled to regain some composure while his heart bled out. As the plane took off, he closed his eyes and tried to tell himself he had more now than he’d had before. At sixteen, he’d felt like a huge drama queen languishing in his unreturned love for Evan. At eighteen, he’d given up and taken what Len offered, thinking he would never have Evan for his own. When he and Len broke up, Reed had begun to think there might be hope for him and Evan, but there was Bryce and the fact that it didn’t seem like Evan saw him in a sexual light at all.
And then came that one shining night of passion. Reed had prayed it would lead to more. Now, his dreams were dashed. Well, he would do what Evan asked and let it go. He would put set aside his feelings for his best friend, lock them away with the memories of that glorious night, and while he could never forget, he would try to move on.
He doubted he’d ever let another man fuck him, though. His ass had been reserved for Evan since he was fifteen years old. One of the reasons he’d been with Len was because the older guy had been a complete bottom. Reed couldn’t contemplate letting any man but Evan have that much of him. His infatuation with Len had stemmed from Len’s utter confidence in being a gay man, but Evan had always been Reed’s ideal man. He’d always been the man Reed wanted to be with, wanted to have fuck him. He’d never allowed any man to penetrate him in the past nor would he in the future. The act was too intimate, too personal, too close to what he’d shared with Evan. And he didn’t want anything to ever tarnish or spoil the memory of that night. It was the only time he’d ever felt completely safe and loved. He hoped it wasn’t the last, but either Evan had to change his mind or Reed had to learn to go on without the man he loved so he could have a relationship with someone else.
After all the time that had passed, Reed felt certain he would always love his best friend, but he also felt certain he could move on and find a way to be happy. Perhaps not blissful as he’d been that night in Evan’s arms, but definitely content. And now, he had football to concentrate on without the distractions of Len’s health issues. For the first time in a long while, he realized football would be his only focus.
Age 25
Reed loved it that the Stars had made it into the play-offs in each of their first three seasons. It was a point of pride with him. He loved his team, loved going to work each day, didn’t mind the press much anymore, and he loved playing. The whole point of his life was to catch and release the football. From the moment Evan snapped the ball into his hands to the moment he cocked his arm back and let the ball fly toward Sean LeMay or Johnson Sims, control of the game lay literally within his grasp. And Reed loved control.
A lot of things had been beyond his control in his life: his parents’ reaction to his coming out, Len’s cheating, and his feelings for Evan. Reed found he was more content when his life had a schedule and a pattern he could control. Every week he had a conference call with the top executive staff of Sterling Hotels—the chief operating officer and the controller. Since Len’s death the year before he’d taken over as CEO, and he took the job seriously. Well, seriously enough to know he had no clue how to run a hotel or a company as big as Sterling Hotels, so he let the COO and controller do their thing. He hired a financial advisor to help him manage the money he’d received from his NFL contract, signing bonus, and endorsements. The advisor checked in with Reed once a week as well.
He didn’t date because he feared having his name splashed across the tabloids. He went to the events Darcy directed him to, alone usually, but other times with Evan if Bryce was in Florida, which seemed to be most of the time. In fact, he and Evan were probably getting laid about the same amount, which wasn’t much. Evan rarely saw Bryce, and Reed was paranoid about dating or even hooking up just for sex. What saved Reed’s sanity was David Nathanson, who had invited him to dinner when he’d sold Len’s two houses. They’d had a celebratory meal, and David had ended up blowing Reed in the realty office once everyone was gone. Every few weeks Reed stopped in at David’s office and fucked the man or let him blow him. He knew it was a one-sided relationship where he didn’t really give anything to David except physical release and sometimes not even that, but it seemed to work for the older man, and it certainly worked for him. Reed didn’t want any kind of relationship at this point in his life.
Because of their discretion, he and Evan had become less of a phenomenon in the NFL. One or two players had come out after them, following their same successful PR campaign. Most of the players who’d been vocal about not wanting gays in the NFL had given up picking on him and Evan, although there were still a few who just would never let it go and harassed them vocally on the field. But basically, since nothing scandalous occurred to put either of them in the spotlight, they were now old news and appeared to have become accepted in the league. Almost.
The last game of the year pitted the Stars against the Outlaws, a team known for having players who were outspoken against Reed and Evan. Since the Outlaws were already out of the play-off hunt and the Stars would probably take their division, bad blood ran higher than usual. The coach warned Reed and Evan to be vigilant and then warned the rest of the team about not starting fights if the opposing players got nasty.
By now, Reed and Evan were used to the drill. They both worked hard to play clean and ignore the homophobes in the league. They respected Coach Dreyfus and strove to play the way he wanted them to. But most of all, they were afraid of the shitstorm that Darcy would heap on their heads if they stepped out of line and made the tabloids fighting with other players. The rest of the team pretty much did and felt the same.
On game day, Reed and Evan ignored the glares from several of the other team’s players. They ignored the softly spoken slurs. And they ignored the crude hand gestures hastily hidden from the referees and cameras. What they couldn’t ignore was how rough the other team played. The Outlaws led the league in penalties for unnecessary roughness. They targeted Reed as the quarterback, but they also targeted Sean LeMay, the wide receiver, which left Reed to find another ball carrier in almost every offensive play.
The Stars led the Outlaws 35-10 going into the third quarter, and it was generally thought by most that the Stars had the game in the bag. Coach Dreyfus sent his starting offense out for the final time in the game. The backup quarterback and other second string players would take over the next time the Stars had possession.
Reed lined up behind Evan, his eyes on the football, his concentration on the play they would
call. Later, he would realize that nothing out of the ordinary happened. Evan snapped the ball. Reed fell back into the pocket, his arm cocked, ready to pass the ball to Sean or Johnson, whoever was open. When he saw that both of them were covered but he had an opening to his left, he tucked the ball beneath his arm and ran like the wind. An open corridor of field created by the offensive linemen blocking the defense sent Reed into rushing mode. He focused on the open field, his legs pumping. Two yards became five became ten… And then pain exploded in his back, dragging him down to the grass.
He clutched the ball to his chest, not willing to let the other team gain control of it. He gritted his teeth as pain spread from the back of his neck down his shoulders and arms. Control, he thought grimly. He had to retain control of the ball and consciousness.
Reed breathed slowly in and out, aware that he’d hurt something but not sure what. He’d been hit from behind; his head must have snapped forward, then back. Whiplash, he thought. Voices penetrated his thoughts, and he opened his eyes to find Evan and one of the trainers staring down at him with matching worried expressions.
“Don’t move,” Evan said quietly as he pulled the football from Reed’s hands and handed it to the referee.
“Can you feel your arms and legs?” the trainer asked him as the team’s doctor appeared at his side. “Is there any paralysis, numbness, tingling in any of your limbs?”
Reed blinked up at them in confusion. “Paralysis?” Fear flashed through him. He didn’t move other than to wiggle his toes slightly in his shoes. “No. My toes move,” he told them. “No numbness. No tingling. But my neck hurts like hell.”
“The stretcher’s on the way, and we’re going to put a collar on you to immobilize you,” the doctor said calmly. “We’ll get you to the hospital for X-rays, a CAT scan, and an MRI. We’re not taking any chances.”
Trying to stay as still as possible consumed Reed. It was easier once they immobilized his neck and back, but he still had to fight the urge to turn his head to look for Evan. They carried him off the field, and he caught bits and pieces of the conversations that flowed around him. Nothing good. All of it making his stomach shudder with fear. But every time he heard the cool tones of Evan’s voice, he felt calm wash over him.
Scrambling (Out in the NFL Book 1) Page 11