Noah: Jet didn’t want me to leave him on his big night.
It buzzes impossibly fast.
Matt: He’s killing it, and you know it. I need two minutes. It’s about a public appearance coming up.
I don’t fully believe him, but it does the trick. I’m out of my seat and heading for the exit before the song is finished.
When I find a quiet spot on the street, halfway in the alley beside the bar but still on the sidewalk enough to be mugger-safe, my finger hesitates on the call button.
With a deep breath and a reminder to keep this business and not personal, I hit dial.
“Thought you were going to blow me off.” His voice is sexy and sleepy, and of course, my brain gets stuck on the words blow me.
“What’s this public appearance?”
“Straight to it then, I guess.”
“You promised.”
Matt sighs. “How’s Jet doing? Apart from kicking ass on stage.”
“He’s picked up a job as a waiter, but he hates it. I like it because he brings me dinner when he’s done.”
“Nice.”
The conversation dies an awkward death, and I’m transported to the first few days on the cruise where we didn’t know each other yet and everything was difficult and strained. I half-wish I could go back to then when I was still oblivious to what it’s like to truly be with someone.
Our relationship may’ve been fake, but I’ve never felt anything more real.
And it’s all Matt’s fault.
Fucker.
“I cut my parents off,” he says quietly.
“You what?”
“I took your advice. I’ve set up trusts for the kids, have organized to send money directly to Char, and told my parents they can take whatever I give them or get nothing at all.”
I let out a humorous laugh. Even when Matt’s trying to be mean, he still cares. “How much are you still giving them?”
“Enough to survive. Half of what I was. The rest goes to the kids like I originally wanted.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”
The stupid thick silence grows between us again.
“I spoke to Damon today,” Matt eventually says. “He thinks it’ll be a good idea if you’re there for my press conference announcing my contract with the Warriors.”
“No problem. I said I’d do whatever you need. That was the original deal.”
“Noah—”
“Matt, I can’t do this. I can’t talk on the phone and pretend everything is okay and pretend I don’t miss you like crazy. I’ll do the public appearance, and I won’t have to fake having feelings for you, but I can’t … I can’t torture myself and pretend we’re friends because we’re not. You know it and I know it.”
There’s a pause before he quietly says, “All you had to do was ask me to stay.”
“All you had to do was not leave.”
And there’s the truth. If he’d decided to give up football because he didn’t want that future, that’s one thing, but asking me to make him give it up? There’s a huge difference between the two, but he can’t see that.
As someone who has changed their entire life plan for a guy, there’s no way I’d let him do it for me, and I don’t want to go through that heartache again.
Yet, here you are, an annoying voice reminds me.
“I should get back inside. Jet was super nervous, and he’ll probably freak if he knows I left.”
We both know it’s a lie, but he doesn’t call me on it.
“The press conference is in two weeks. Right before training camp kicks off.”
“Text me where and when, and I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. And thanks for looking out for JJ.”
My mouth is dry, and I can’t bring myself to say I’d do anything for him. And his brother.
I have two weeks to come to terms with the fact I’ll be seeing Matt again. Two weeks to learn something I’ve never had: self-restraint.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Matt
My throat constricts from the tie trying to choke me. I can’t stand still, I fidget like crazy, and then my palms start sweating.
Talon nudges me. “Dude, what is wrong with you? It’s a press conference. You could do these in your sleep.”
“Dude. First openly gay player. You try being in my shoes.”
We’re the only two players being interviewed today. Talon, because he’s a megastar, and me … well, because I’m me. And we’re both the new guys.
Even though this will be my first press conference as the gay guy, that’s not the reason I’m nervous. I’m dying to see Noah, and at the same time I’m dreading it.
I’ll gladly sit through an entire day of media asking inappropriate questions, but facing Noah? I won’t know whether to maul him or keep my distance.
The locker room of Milwaukee University smells like feet and ass but I’d rather be in here than out there. The first time I’m going to see Noah in weeks will be in a room full of cameras.