Page 99 of Full Split
“I met with Mik,” Wyatt says softly, settling next to me and wrapping an arm around me. Like me, he’s only wearing a hoodie, but he’s like a personal space heater.
I blink, trying to catch up. “What?” I didn’t get the impression that Wyatt was a big fan of Mik’s, even after getting to know him a little better. The fact that he’s having meetings with him when he’s already untrusting of the media gets my attention.
“He sent me a really cryptic email that said he had something to talk to me about that might be able to help. He’s in Raleigh for a piece about the Carolina Rollergirls, so we met up for coffee.”
“And?”
Wyatt hesitates, his arms tightening around me. Then he pulls back just enough to look me in the eye, his expression serious.
“He might have a good plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
“He’s been doing a little digging behind the scenes, and made some calls. There’s some footage that could change the narrative, statements from other people who’ve been harassed by Peter, and some ideas that he wants to present to USAG. If we’re going to fix this, we need them on our side. We might have to dish out some threats of our own to let them know we’re serious, but it could work.”
I stare at him, the words sliding over me too fast to absorb.
“Footage of what?”
“Of Peter doing some unsavory things. Things that we’d never share or release to the public under any other circumstances, but I’m definitely asshole enough to threaten it. Mik has a bigger following than him and that Senator he’s been working with put together. The Senator, who, by the way, probably paid him with the coke he was caught snorting off some guy’s dick on an alleyway camera. Mik and I both agree that we’d rather not throw another scandal into the mix to win a battle, when we could win the war with proof that Peter has a history. Enough to start unraveling his story and make it clear that he’s the one lying, assuming he doesn’t call it all off himself.”
“And he’s sure?”
“He thinks it’s solid. There’s more to it, but he needs a few more days to get in touch with some people that owe him favors or something like that. That part sounded suspicious to me, but he’s also connecting us with a lawyer that will meet with us before we present our case to USAG headquarters.”
“We?” My voice cracks.
Wyatt nods. “Yep. The plan is to go in strong as a team. You, me, Weston, Sid, Mik, and the lawyer. Mik also thinks it’s a good idea to invite a couple of your teammates to show a strong support system.”
I blink. “A lawyer?”
“Yeah. Her name is Millie Worth. I think she’s from Alabama. I don’t remember when or where Mik met her, but she’s a good person and apparently terrifying in court.”
Something inside me jolts. For the first time all day, I laugh. It’s weak, but it’s real. It’s a little scary to hope, but I can’t stopmyself. I think Wyatt feels it too. He cups my jaw, his thumb brushing along my cheek like he’s memorizing the shape of me.
“We’re not going in there to ask for anything, Niles. We’re going in to tell them the truth. And to warn them. Either they stand with you… or they get exposed for not supporting their athlete to save face.”
I can’t speak. My throat is too tight. My chest aches from the force of everything I’m feeling.
“You’re not alone in this,” he says, kissing my forehead.
And just like that, I shatter. I pull him against me, and he lays me down across the platform. Our limbs entwine, hearts hammering against each other. My tears soak into his hoodie, but he doesn’t pull away. He just holds me tighter, like I’m something precious.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper.
“Don’t say that.”
I kiss him because I can’t find the words to tell him how much I need him.
The kiss, as it usually does, becomes heated. Hands roam under shirts and migrate south. I moan into Wyatt’s mouth as he rubs his cock against mine over two layers of sweatpants.
I want them gone. I want to touch him everywhere, taste him, feel him…
When I try to take it further, when my fingers find the hem of his sweatpants and slip beneath, desperate for something solid, something real, Wyatt stops me. His hand closes gently around my wrist.
“Not tonight.”
It’s impossible not to pout. “Why not?”
