Football and Ballet - Jason Collins Page 0,29

that you were going to hate me forever over this.”

“I would’ve only hated you if you’d been the kind of asshole to cheat on someone.” Patrick sighed again. “But I can’t hate you for what you didn’t know about.”

“So, does that mean I can still come over tonight or—”

“I should really do some more studying for the next show,” Patrick interrupted. “I think after our lesson tonight, I’ll stay at the studio for a little while longer, work on some moves.”

“Oh. So, you’re not going home after this?”

“Not for a while, no.”

“Okay. Do you want me to just stay and wait—”

“Not to be cliché about it, but I rehearse better when I’m alone,” Patrick cut me off for a second time. “Anyway, we should get started with practice.”

“Sure. Let’s get started with practice,” I replied as I watched Patrick, a confused expression stuck on my face.

For someone who’d just told me he didn’t hate me, he was sure acting like someone who didn’t really want to be around me for any longer than he had to be.

And as Patrick began to call out moves for me to follow along to, a sense of dread filled me down to my core as I imagined Patrick so easily discarding me, throwing me away just like my teammates might someday, just like Coach Lou might someday, and all because I’d told him the truth.

10

Patrick

Dakota Webster was beautiful.

It was the first thing I’d noticed about her while scrolling through her photos. She was beautiful in a way that made me envious, my eyes going to her flawless sense of fashion, her bright smile that broke into a beautiful, airy laugh in some of the videos she took with her just-as-fashionable friends.

As I scrolled through Dakota’s Instagram feed, long after my session with Hunter was over, I still couldn’t stop the sense of envy that lingered just underneath my every breath. There was just something about her, something I wanted but couldn’t have, something I couldn’t put my finger on that carried in her playful poses and silly faces in front of the Louvre.

But as I made my way back to her latest post, the one where she’d tagged Hunter, the one where she’d referred to him as hers, everything came to me like a bolt of lightning.

I wasn’t jealous of Dakota Webster’s looks or her circle of friends or her life that seemed ripped right out of a social media influencer fairytale.

I was jealous of how she’d claimed Hunter, the way she’d publicly marked him as her own, despite the two never having had a conversation about it, never having had a conversation about much of anything, at all.

But why the hell was I jealous of Dakota and Hunter?

I knew that it was just a PR relationship, something whipped up by Elana to keep Hunter’s name in the news. And I knew that it wasn’t going to last long either, not once Hunter called Elana out for the set-up, which seemed like it was inevitable, given Hunter’s reaction to the news.

And yet, I could’ve sworn my fingers were turning green with envy as I stared down at her account’s main page.

But I still didn’t want Hunter. Sure, he’d been spending nights in my bed, and the way he touched me made every part of my body feel like it was coming to life, but it wasn’t like we were made for each other. The only thing we really had in common was that we were both aging athletes, people willing to push themselves to the edge just to remain relevant for one more day.

And it wasn’t like I knew Hunter well enough, anyway, not the real him. For all I knew, the Hunter I’d come to know was just another front, another version of him perfected by Elana and his PR squad, making him out to be his most desirable self. More important than that, I didn’t even know what Hunter really wanted.

How long we were supposed to keep hooking up? Until he was done taking his ballet lessons with me? Until he met another guy he liked more? Until he was ready to come out of the closet on a national scale?

Fuck.

I wanted more than that from Hunter.

What the hell was wrong with me? I’d never wanted more than a hook up from a guy while I was on tour, so why was I suddenly so interested in more from a guy I knew would never be able to deliver?

I was asking for