Page 43 of Blitz
“Are you okay?”
“Mostly,” he said after a pause. “Just had a run-in with Tucker in the bathroom. Charming guy. Spit at my feet and called me a fag.”
My stomach twisted. “Jesus, Tom.”
“It’s fine,” he said quickly, but I could hear the strain. “I expected some pushback. Just maybe not quite so fast or… visceral.”
I closed my eyes, leaning against my kitchen counter. The apartment felt too empty, and suddenly, the weight of what Tom was facing hit me all at once. This was what I’d been afraid of—not only for me, but for him. Perhaps his teammate was the first of others alongside opponents and fans.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that shit,” I said, gripping the phone tighter, my pulse thudding in my ears. The image of Tom alone in that bathroom, cornered, spat at, wouldn’t leave me. I felt a chill of fear crawl down my spine—because what if it got worse? What if next time, it wasn’t just words? I hated that he was facing this. I hated that I couldn’t protect him. And underneath the fear was guilt, hot and heavy—because he’d stepped into the fire, and I was still hiding in the dark.
“It’s nothing I didn’t expect,” Tom replied, his voice steadier now. “Anyway, enough about that asshole. How are you holding up? You watched it?”
“Every second,” I admitted. “You looked good up there. Confident.”
“I was terrified,” he laughed softly. “Thought I might pass out when the owner handed me the mic.”
“Couldn’t tell,” I said. “You’re braver than I am.”
There was a pause on the line. “Don’t say that Trick.” His voice was gentle but firm. “It’s not about bravery. It’s about timing. You’ll know when it’s right for you. Hell, it might never be right for you.”
“And if I never do? Where does that leave us?”
He hummed, clearly giving it thought. “I’m a great believer in one day at a time.”
So, basically he wasn’t prepared to go through life as an out gay man while my closeted gay ass clung to his side. I wanted to believe that, someday, I’d stand in front of cameras and say the words that would set me free. But the thought of it made my chest tight, my palms sweaty. The contract I’d signed with my father, the information about my mom, Rebecca—I was buried under all of it.
Change the subject.
“How’s the team taking it?”
“Most of them are great. Ty’s been my rock, of course. A few others too. The owner’s putting on a good show of support, at least to my face.” He sighed. “Tucker isn’t the only one with issues, but he’s the only one stupid enough to say it to my face.”
“What happens now?” I asked, pacing my kitchen.
“Now, I go play football,” Tom said. “We’ve got Pittsburgh tonight. I’ll focus on the game, block out the noise, and shut people up by racking up sacks.”
“Will you be safe?” I couldn’t help but ask, as the image of Tucker’s anger haunted me. “No one’s gonna steamroller you on the field for this? Or not have your back? What about the fans, it’s an away, and you’re vulnerable out there. Jesus. Why didn’t we think this through?”
“We?” he said. “I like that you said ‘we’.”
“You. I meant you.”
“No takebacks. And look, I’m used to being booed, okay? I’ll be fine. It’s all noise from them and Tucker. Security’s been briefed; Coach is all over it; and Ty’s got his eyes open.” There was a rustling sound, like he was moving. “Listen, I should get back. The team’s having lunch before final prep. I just… needed to hear your voice.”
The admission made something warm unfurl in my chest. “I’m glad you called.”
“Will you watch tonight?” he asked, and I could hear the vulnerability beneath the question.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I hesitated, then added softly, “I’ll be wearing your jersey.”
“You have my jersey?” The surprise in his voice made me smile.
“Yeah,” I admitted, feeling heat creep into my cheeks even though he couldn’t see me. “Ordered it the day after we first… You know.”
His laugh was warm and surprised. “You’re full of secrets.”
“Just a few.” I smiled despite myself. “Go crush it tonight, Tom.”
