Page 90 of Hot Receiver

“What about him?” I ask. “He’s a little late in leaking Matt’s secret.”

Marc’s face lights up. “He’s not exposing Matt. Other people are exposing him.” He hands his phone to me. “Seems like you’re not the only one that asshat bullied. A player on the Raptors came forward with his story.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Aaron Shields. He just made a public coming-out statement. Evidently, Travers found him out and was bullying and threatening him. There were others, too, who were victimized by Travers. Women he’d sexually assaulted after getting them drunk. Obviously, the guy has a lot of serious control issues. But Matt’s statement sent people flying out of the woodwork, and I’ll bet there’ll be more who share their stories.”

Matt turns an incredulous look at me. “This’ll definitely turn down the heat on us.”

“I’m still selling the team.” I rub my finger over his wrist and smile. “I want to go back to my regular life and my regular job.”

Matt snorts. “Yeah, okay. ‘Cause you definitely don’t make a gazillion dollars a year or anything. That’s regular for ya.”

“Well, if that’s your final decision, Zak, I understand and will help you do whatever necessary to find a new owner. I’m sure there are shareholders at the holding company who might want to do a joint purchase.”

When we finally walk out of Marc’s office, I feel lighter, like the albatross that’d been slung around my neck finally slipped off. I can breathe again. I can live my life, according to my rules with the man I love. I think about my first session with Dr. Forest and how ready I was to grasp onto the potential for happiness after finally letting go of the guilt and anger I’d felt for so many years. It’s ironic that I’d been so prepared to move into the future without Matt when here we are taking those steps together. I learned a lot about myself in that session,things I’d been reluctant to admit. Things I hadn’t acknowledged at all.

That’s why I decided I’m going to continue my sessions with him. I realized how important it is to keep your headspace clear if you want to live a happy and fruitful life, how necessary it is to clear the negative thoughts and lies that can poison your mind if left to fester.

I barely notice the camera flashes blinking around us as we walk down the street toward my mother’s building about twenty minutes later. Just to be safe, we brought the girls over before our meeting with Marc. Mom’s building is safer than Fort Knox, so we knew they’d be safest there while we were out.

Her penthouse smells amazing. The scent of rich, delicious foods wafts through the apartment and my stomach growls with anticipation. Matt captures her in a bear hug, and she laughs and kisses him on the cheek. They fell in love instantly, which isn’t really shocking since he’s got such a magnetic and charming personality.

“Smells amazing in here,” he says, running over to Summer and Missy before tackling them onto the couch.

“You look good, sweetie.” Mom grins at me and laces her fingers with mine. “How are you feeling?”

“So unbelievably incredible.” A return smile stretches across my face as I catch Matt’s eye.

He winks at me, and it makes my heart float up in my chest like a helium balloon that I hope never ever deflates.

“I know.” Mom watches our wordless exchange, her eyes shining bright like the sun. “Mothersalwaysknow.”

Chapter 38

Matt

“My name is Martin Harrison, and I’m an addict.”

The tears shining in Dad’s eyes make my throat tighten. He brings his hands to his face and holds them there for a long minute before speaking. I stare at the tile floor, running the toe of my shoe along a crack in one of the corners.

“I used to think that my life was a mess, that I couldn’t do anything right. My business crashed, I lost my life savings, my house…” He sneaks a look at me. “The respect of my family.”

Dad takes a deep, shuddering breath. I put my hand on his shoulders and give it a little squeeze as my eyes sting. I blink fast, nodding at him to continue.

“I thought if I could just catch a small break, make a little money, I’d be able to fix everything that was broken. But desperation and fear had me biting off more than I could chew. And little bets turned into big ones, ones that risked my entire mortgage.” His shoulders quiver. “I stole money from my son to cover bets. I begged him to help me win bets. I guilted himinto compromising his ethics because I was so ill and unwilling to get help. I dug a deep hole for myself and put my whole family in serious jeopardy, all because I was desperate to fix my life. I didn’t realize that by trying to fix it, I was crushing it into dust.”

He looks up, eyeing the sympathetic eyes around the quiet circle, the eyes that say, “We got you, Martin. We’ve been there. We understand.”

“I could have lost my kids a week ago. Someone I owed money to went after them, had a gun. He wanted to hurt them. To kill them. All because of me and the mistakes I made. I was selfish and self-absorbed, only thinking about making myself and my circumstances better, never once thinking about the effect my behavior was having on everyone else.”

He pauses and turns his head toward me. “For years, my son begged me to get help. He sent money every month to pay the bills and take care of my younger daughters. That was money for our family, and I took it because I needed to prove to myself that I could be better. That I could win. Now I realize that winning didn’t have to do with the money. I had already won. I was just too blind to see what I had in front of me. Instead, I was chasing the wrong prize. But I want to be better. I want to get help. I want to fix what’s broken, and I know now that I can only do it by dealing with my addiction. And that’s what I’m going to do. Matt, I swear, I will be better. I don’t want to lose any more time.”

I give a quick nod, my throat swelling to the point where I can’t even choke out a word.

“Thank you for sharing, Martin.” Kareena, the group leader, smiles warmly at us. “Who’d like to go next?”

We stay for the rest of the meeting and mingle a bit afterward. I sign a few autographs, and in the back of my mindwonder how many of these people have lost or won bets because of my performance, or lack thereof, on the field.

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