the planning—my dad says things like, ‘There’s no need for a big wedding. Mikey doesn’t need all that.’ Or he’ll say, ‘Can you imagine the media firestorm? Coach’s gay son gets married in lavish wedding? I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It’ll only bring Mikey under attack by those hooligan reporters.’”
That was similar to my own experience with him. “So it’s the publicity factor he’s most worried about.”
He sighed. “Which is why he can’t stomach the idea of me dating a player. What will the media say?”
“He’s not wrong, you know. Not only would the media be all over a gay player with an actual, real-life boyfriend, but they’d also lose their shit over a Riggers player dating the coach’s son.”
I watched him for his reaction, and it was pretty much what I expected. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said with a pitiful note of pleading in his voice, as if he couldn’t bear to stop and was hoping I’d have the strength to stop it for him.
He was going to be wildly disappointed. I didn’t have the strength to stop it, and moreover, I didn’t have the desire to.
“I strongly disagree,” I said as calmly as possible. “We’re two consenting adults.”
He lifted an eyebrow at me. “We’re boss and employee.”
“You’re fired,” I said between tight teeth.
Mikey barked out a surprised laugh. “You can’t fire me. I quit. And anyway, I’m going to be a famous cookbook author now, so I don’t need no stinkin’ personal assistant job.”
This wasn’t a total surprise. I’d been dreading and hoping for it since he’d talked about his dreams back in Aster Valley.
It was odd that he hadn’t mentioned the job opportunity in Aster Valley, but maybe he didn’t want to jinx it. Hearing him talk about flying out there to talk to the Civettis had both crushed me and made me proud. I wanted him to be happy, and I knew turning that lodge into a B&B was his dream come true.
But I didn’t want to lose him. If he was going to pursue his dream that far away, I wanted us to figure out a way to do it together, to make the distance work until I could retire and join him full-time.
I couldn’t wait any longer to touch him again. I crawled across the leather sofa and forced myself between his bent legs until I was propped on top of him. “Please don’t leave me,” I said softly.
He studied me as if processing my request and carefully parsing his words. “I don’t want to leave you.”
I chose to ignore the clanging warning bells going off somewhere deep inside my brain as he inserted the word want in there. As if he’d do it anyway. Instead, I leaned in and kissed him, telling him with my slow perusal of his lips that he was more important to me than any nosy reporter could ever be.
Mikey’s hand came up to cup the side of my neck. “You could always come with me.”
These words hadn’t been tested. They were raw and real, but they were also impossible. “I can’t.” They were the hardest words I’ve ever said.
“I’m sorry,” I added in a near whisper.
He shot me a smile as fake as a dollar-store Santa. “Nope. Of course you can’t. I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t really mean it. You have football. I know how important it is to you. Giving it up for… this… would be ridiculous.”
Every cell in my body begged me to disagree with him, to tell him I didn’t want football if I couldn’t have him, too. But it wasn’t that easy. Football was everything. It had been everything for as long as I could remember. Football was how my father and I communicated, how I proved my worth to the world, how I made my friends and family proud. It was how I convinced myself that I was a hard worker, that I had dedication, drive, and commitment.
“Not ridiculous,” I finally said. “Just not… realistic. Not right now. But maybe we can figure out a way to make it work.”
“Maybe we can,” he said, leaning in to kiss me again.
By the time we finished our long stay at first base, I was itching to steal second.
“Take off your clothes,” I urged, moving onto my knees on the carpet in front of the sofa. “Want to suck you off.”
Mikey scrambled out of his shirt and jeans, revealing a tight little pair of navy-and-orange striped briefs. I chuckled. “I didn’t