When the team meeting lets out, I’m hopeful Damon’s found him, but there’s a text on my phone from Damon saying he’s handling it and to go to the hotel and rest up. I don’t know if it’s my agent or my friend telling me to do that, but I read it in a serious tone, because there isn’t any question about it. It’s an order.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Noah
Damon: Where are you? And if you say New York, I’m going to kick your ass.
Guess it’s time to face the music. The music being Damon chewing me out for leaving Matt in the middle of a press conference, but can he blame me?
With a few drinks under my belt, I decide to return the calls and messages Damon’s sent in the last few hours. As soon as I got out of that auditorium, I was lost. Both physically and mentally. I walked aimlessly around campus and around Milwaukee. No surprises here: there is nothing to do in Milwaukee. So that’s how I landed my ass on a barstool at six p.m. That was two hours ago. I haven’t moved since.
Noah: Don’t get your balls in a twist. I’m at a bar. Google gay bars in Milwaukee, and I’m at the first result. Can’t remember the name now. Something about asses.
It takes a few minutes for his message to come through.
Damon: Are you seriously at a bar called Nuts and Butts?
I snort.
Noah: Yeah, that sounds about right. Thought it was funny.
Damon: Don’t move. I’m on my way.
Noah: Yay!
Damon: Even in text, I know you’re being sarcastic.
Noah: Me? Never.
I’m in that glorious level of drunkenness where I still have all my motor functions but I don’t give a shit about anything, which means I’m ready to face Damon. He needs to give me some fucking answers. He knew about the New York contract, and I want to know what the hell is going on.
Matt had the chance to stay in New York, yet he still chose Chicago. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t care if Chicago is a better team than New York. The fact of the matter is, he had a chance to stay with me and have football, and instead, he chose his career—and a pay cut—over the possibility of us. It also means his bullshit plea to ask him to stay was an empty gesture. He knew I wouldn’t do it, and he was going to leave no matter what.
It’s all bullshit.
Nathaniel chose money.
Matt chose football.
When is someone going to choose me?
My eyes catch on a tall blond guy making his way toward me. His burning blue gaze travels over my arms and chest and then back up to my face as he cracks a smile.
Oh yeah, he’d choose me. At least for a night.
He leans on the bar next to me. “I’m Lennon.”
Wow. He isn’t even trying with the fake name.
I give him a quick nod. “McCartney.”
His smile becomes tight. “Yeah, never heard that one before.”
“Huh?”
He pulls out his wallet and shows me his ID. “My name really is Lennon.”
I stare at the ID and wonder if it’s fake. That’s taking anonymous hookups to an extreme though. “Did your parents hate you?”
He laughs, and it’s deep and rumbly. “I still give them hell for it. When they complain I haven’t visited in a while, all I have to say is ‘You called me Lennon.’”
“Sorry. I thought … well, you know. Bar like this …”
I have to admit Lennon’s smile is sexy as hell. “You thought it was a fake name for a hookup? Come on, who would choose the name Lennon voluntarily? You know, apart from my parents who had absolutely no regard for how many Beatles jokes I’d get in my lifetime.”
“I’m Noah.” I hold my hand out for him to shake.
He holds onto it a tiny bit too long. “Wait. You gave a fake name back. That mean you want to get out of here?”
If a guy like him asked me a couple of months ago, I would’ve already had my tongue down his throat. And while the temptation for a revenge fuck is there, and my cock is interested, I can’t do it. No way. Not because I’m still contractually needed to be Matt’s boyfriend, but because I know Lennon wouldn’t compare.
I may be in love with a guy who doesn’t love me back, but I’m not going to get over it by getting under other guys. That would work if I was moving on from anyone else, but not Matt. I’ve never, not even with Nathaniel, been so gone over a person. Since he left, everything is dull, and I didn’t realize missing someone made the rest of your life suck. I’ve been lagging behind on the business plan for Rainbow Beds because I just don’t care anymore. I still want it to happen, but without the person you’re supposed to spend your life with, everything becomes meaningless. No matter how many homeless teens my program will take off the streets, it will never make me complete. Matt makes me a whole person. I’m not the spoiled rich guy, and I’m not the ignorant, entitled politician’s son. I’m me. The real me.