Page 8 of Hot Receiver

Truth is, he didn’t know it, but I gave Zak Kacey a piece of my heart back in college. And I never did get it back. I guess that’s why I don’t do relationships now. Too much risk.

I took a risk with Zak. He did the same with me. But as careful as we were, it wasn’t enough.

I saw what happened to Zak when the guys on our college football team found out he was gay.

I let it happen. Never spoke up for him. Never admitted it was me with him that night.

Those assholes took everything from him, including his self-respect.

I may as well been waving my own torch.

So, his reaction to me now isn’t really a shocker. No wonder he hates me.

I knowIhate myself for what happened.

But once I found out their plan, I tried to stop it…stopthem. Not that he’d ever believe me. Those guys destroyed him, and even though I wasn’t involved, I’m just as much to blame.

So did I really expect an apology?

Fuck no.

I’m not completely delusional.

I straighten up with a sigh. Zak pushes past me to head toward his car. He pulls his keys from his pocket and stalks down the street in the opposite direction of the valet stand.

Weird.

Why would he park his own car? It’s not the greatest neighborhood, and he’s rich as fuck, which means the car has to be expensive. I can’t tell from here, but I’d guess it’s a pompous ass car with a hefty price tag.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a crowd of people round the corner and head in his direction. My eyes narrow at the men and women carrying white posters with bright red lettering. Their voices get louder, their hateful rants much clearer.

Fucking protesters. And all of the security is still inside the building since there are so few of us outside.

“We don’t need your kind representing our city,” one of the men yells. “You’re ruining football. Ruining all sports!”

I stare at Zak’s retreating back. He doesn’t acknowledge them, but a few of the people waiting for their cars turn their heads to stare. They creep backward, away from the hell that’s damn close to breaking loose. I push Anna behind me and she grabs onto my arm.

“Stay here,” I mutter before taking a few steps toward the group.

“Matt, don’t,” Anna hisses. “You don’t know if they have any weapons. What the hell are you going to do?”

She tugs at my suit jacket, but I shrug off her grip.

It’s a goddamn witch hunt, and I won’t sit by this time and let it happen.

I won’t let them hurt him again.

“How many more gays are you gonna draft, Kacey?” One of the women yells. “How much longer until you ruin the whole fucking organization? Nobody wants you. You’re weak. You can’t compete. How can you lead this team?”

The mob closes in on what I can see now is a Bugatti. They slam their hands on the metal, pounding it with their fists.

Glass shatters when a bat swings against the passenger side window.

I pick up the pace, breaking into a jog to do what, I have no fucking clue.

I just know I need to get him away from there.

But he doesn’t show any signs of ducking away from the mob. He’s walking right into the fucking middle of it.

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