Page 31 of Hot Receiver

I lean toward him, narrowing my eyes. Heat creeps up the sides of my neck, my heart lanced by imaginary knives as my lips part again.

“Turn around and walk away from me, Zak. We’re done, so move the fuck on.”

Chapter 14

Zak

He told me to fuck him, to show him how much I hate him.

He wanted it, begged for it.

It’s been three days, and I can’t stop thinking about what happened in that stairwell, when I remember how Matt basically ordered me to hurt him, to punish him. He welcomed the pain and the rage behind it all.

And fuck me if it doesn’t get me hard every time the memory of him pressed against the wall with his ass riding my cock loops through my mind.

“Honey, I’m worried about you.”

I scrape a hand down the front of my face and tune back into the conversation with my mother. “I’m fine. I promise.” I shovel in a mouthful of food to make my words more believable.

She’s not buying it at all, though.

Mom shakes her head, her dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. Her eyes are normally bright, the brownflecked with gold sparkles, but ever since my dad died, they’ve been vacant, like the candle glowing in the depths was snuffed out, never to be relit.

I hate that I’m causing her more stress and worry. She’s got enough to deal with.

Mom pokes at her halibut. “You know, Dad never would have wanted to put you in this position with the team. Maybe it would be better for you to just sell it to the next highest shareholder and get out of the press. You have your own company to run. Focus on that, Zak.”

“The hedge fund is being handled. I have great management in place, and my partners are overseeing our positions.” My shoulders slump. “And I’m not selling. I won’t run away from those bigots. I won’t let them chase me out of the Crusaders organization. Besides, Dad wanted me to be part of this with him.”

Goddammit, why didn’t I let him tell me why?

Why didn’t I just stop when he called me back?

Why did I cross that fucking street?

But I don’t ask any of those questions out loud. It’d be too painful to say them, to hear them.

They’ll only ever exist in my head, buried along with all the guilt and anger I hold onto because I couldn’t give my dad the one thing he wanted.

He never cared that I was gay. I remember telling him, how open he was, how he made sure that I knew he loved me no matter what and that I’d always have his support. But I let him down when I couldn’t handle the adversity that came along with it. I let those bastards, my teammates, drive me away from a future I’d dreamed of, an accomplishment my family could be proud of, and a bonding opportunity that my dad and I could have shared.

We'd spent so much time at games before the sabotage that ruined my college career.

Sitting in front of the television, traveling to see our favorite teams play around the country, and watching game tape of me in high school. He never missed a single chance to root me on from the sidelines. No matter where his work took him, he always made sure he was back for game time.

Those were the times I felt closest to him.

And when news of me being gay leaked, I cowered. Let the guys on the team run me out. Maybe they thought it was all them, but it wasn’t. I could have gone back. It would have taken a shit ton of work, but that wasn’t what stopped me.

It was the knowledge that my trusted teammates wouldn’t have my back. They iced me out completely.

My leg wasn’t damaged beyond repair.

But my heart and soul were.

I let him down. Let myself down. Walked away without fighting for what I deserved, what I’d earned.

All because I was scared.

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