Page 26 of Blitz
I blew out a breath, then turned to face him. He waved a hand at the seat next to him. I moved to it, sat, and started talking. I told him about the shoots, about the chemistry, about how Trick had some issues, but don’t we all, and then, I hit the first hurdle at the dinner cruise.
“I told him I was gay,” I whispered as if someone had the room bugged.
Ty blinked.
“No shit.” He leaned up to rest his elbows on his bare knees. We were all working shorts and tanks before putting our gear on. “That’s pretty big, man. You trust this guy to keep that secret?”
“Yeah, he’s got his own reasons for keeping his sexuality close to the vest.” Trick might be running scared, but he wouldn’t sell me out. If he did, he would crash and burn with me, so no worries there. “And like…” I ran my thumb over the rough, scarred skin of my other thumb as I stared at my hands. Huge mitts. Meaty. Marred with white thin marks from a life spent being active on the field and off. “If I didn’t let him know I was into men, we couldn’t have progressed past friends.” I peeked up. Ty nodded. “I guess, I was kind of hoping to find a person to I dunno, ride a bike with him, y’know, like you and Paula do.”
“You hate riding bikes,” he reminded me gently.
“Well, yeah, but…” I shrugged.
“I know what you meant. So, this guy was not into being with you?” He reached out to tap my knee when I didn’t reply. “That happens, man.”
“No, it was… no, he was, I think, but he’s got all this baggage. The flirting was really heavy, you know?” I met his gaze. He bobbed his head. “And the night was really good. It all felt right. Then, we took a walk along the waterfront. There was this violinist playing this dumb romantic song and I… I guess I got caught up in the moment and him because I asked for a kiss behind a tree, and he sort of lost his shit.”
“Ouch, fuck, sorry, man. That hurts. Been there myself a few times.” He gave my knee a thump with the side of his fist.
“Yeah it was ugly. Stupid. It was stupid. I’m stupid. What the fuck was I thinking asking for a kiss in a public area? I mean fuck my dumb-ass brain.”
“Nah, hey, don’t do that. Do not run yourself down. This guy maybe just did you a favor, right? Shutting any kind of sexualshit down when you’re closeted—” I had to look away. Ty heaved a sigh. “Did you two hookup somewhere else?”
“Define hooking up.” I peeked at him but saw right off that he was not playing the old President forty-two dodge and weave. “There was no penetration.” He rolled his eyes so hard he probably sprained them. “I’m not sure what the definition of hooking up is for straights. I sent him a text; he came to my place; we sort of fell on each other like hungry pumas?—”
“Ha, funny,” he mumbled, then rolled his hand for me to continue.
“Sorry, I’m exhausted, and you know I start punning it up when I’m tired. So, we made out, jerked off, and then, when I asked him to stay, he bolted. End of story. My head was too noisy to sleep, so I watched the sun rise, moped, bought and ate a dozen donuts, and here we are.”
“Tom, man, why always the donuts when you’re down?” Ty was into healthy eating, big time.
I lifted a shoulder. “They taste better than carrots.”
“Fuck, man, all that sugar is going to let you down when you need energy the most. You got that shiny rookie from Penn State hounding your ass to take your slot, and you eat like shit before a game. What the hell, man?!”
I didn’t reply for a moment. Then, when I did, all kinds of honesty fell out of my mouth. What was the point in lying to my best friend?
“Maybe, deep down, I want that shiny-ass rookie to take my slot. Maybe, deep down, I’m tired of hiding who I am from the world. Maybe, deep down, I want to date people that I’m attracted to freely like every other lug nut on this team does. Maybe, deep down, I’m tired of living this fucking lie and just want to be happy and in love.” Ty rocked back in his chair as if I’d thumped him on the chin with a fist instead of throwing words at him. “Sorry, that was pretty bitter.”
“No, that was honest. And I wish I could say I feel your pain, but I don’t, not really. I can empathize about how it all must hurt to feel that you need to hide yourself because of who you find attractive. Seems like we take one step forward, then ten back at times when it comes to acceptance in this country.” We both exhaled deeply. What more needed to be said? “You think you might want to consider coming out?” Guess he felt that needed airing out, and rightly so given where my fucking life was right now. “I’m not trying to push you into anything. I get it must be a shitty thing to have to stand in front of the world and say you like dick instead of pussy.”
“Let’s be blunt okay? Stop dancing around the issue,” I teased dryly and got a crooked smile.
“There’s no need for flowery words with best friends. I just wonder if now isn’t the time for you to free yourself. You’re looking at one more year, right? Then you’re retiring. I know that’s not set in stone, but you’ve mentioned it to me and Paula so many times that we figure you’re just wishing it into existence. If that’s the way you see your life going, then why not spend your final year with the Pumas being you. Therealyou. Not the Tom who takes women out to keep the press off his back, but the Tom who dates men that he likes and tells the bigots to fuck all the way off.”
I stared at him as if he had said gay people could do such things. Which, obviously they could, but play football and be queer? It seemed too far from my reach even to entertain such a thing. But yet…
“Maybe,” I eventually whispered.
Ty leaned forward to clutch my thigh. Hard. Like so hard I winced. “You come out and I will stand right at your side. So will most of the team, the staff, and the fans. We all love you. The city loves you. It’s time for you to love yourself. You know what Mama Ru says.” I snorted. Yeah, I knew what RuPaul said. Anddamn it, but that drag queen was right. “Can I get an amen up in here?”
“Amen,” I coughed out as someone thumped on the door.
“You good?” Ty asked as he pushed to his expensive sneakers. I bobbed my head, wiped at the wetness on my lashes, and stood. “Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”
I gave him a fast, hard hug, then turned him loose to answer the door. Tucker Jones entered the room, taking up a shit ton of space. Tucker was one of my defensive fellows, a massive man with a bald head who sang gospel music like an angel. Tucker was also more than a little homophobic at the best of times and horribly homophobic at the worst of times. He had learned, through multiple fines and benchings, to watch what came out of his mouth in front of the coaching staff, but when it was only us guys, his disgust leached through.
“Thought maybe you two were late to eat because you were in here fingering each other in the ass,” he said jokingly. But there was no humor in the comment, only underlying dislike. “Kidding. You know that. I know you two are normal.”
