Page 126 of Catching Kyle
And with that, I stand up and make my way back to my table of friends. Some reporters peel off to ask me more questions, and Timmy is struggling to break through them so he can reprimand me personally. When he finally does, he grabs my arm.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Undoing all the work I’ve done for you?”
I look down at him. My heart is racing wildly, and a year ago I would have thought I was insane for carrying out this plan. But Neeti has been teaching me that the best way to live is to make my beliefs, thoughts, and actions all align. And regardless of what my dad wanted from me, this is what he was really teaching me. So it’s what I’m doing.
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” I say. “And by the way, now that the season’s pretty much over, I don’t need you anymore. You’re fired.”
He scoffs and drops his jaw as reporters surround us, hurling questions at us. “I do all this work and you’re just throwing me away?”
I sigh through my nose, almost laughing, as I shake my head. “You’ve been more stress than your worth, Timmy. Have a good life.”
And then I walk away, his jaw still agape as reporters swarm him. A life of retirement without Timmy awaits.
As I pass the table of my fellow players, most of them cheer, and Ezekiel holds up a thumbs up. “We’re here with you, Kyle,” he says.
I lift my hand to him, and one reporter makes her way to me. “Kyle, what are your plans now that you don’t have an agent?” she asks.
I stop to answer her question. “I’m doing just what my daddy wanted of me,” I say. “I’m living a life of integrity.”
By the time I make it to my car, I’m taking deep breaths to slow my heartrate. I know I made the right decision, and everything is going according to plan, but I’m still anxious as hell for what I did. I realize I need more than some breath exercises, so I pull out my phone. Neeti gave me her number to call during this stressful time, so I think I’ll utilize her. But then I see a text on my screen, and when I see who it’s from, my knees go weak just like they did when I first saw him on my doorstep.
“Hey,” Michael says. “I’d like to talk.”
Chapter 42
Michael Cunningham
I’mparkedoutsidetherestaurant where Kyle and I are supposed to meet and talk. And upon arriving, I realize it’s the very same place he took me on our first date. I wonder if he’s gonna get that secret room for us again. I want a private conversation as much as he would, but I think our reasons are different. I want to talk about what happened, why he really walked out on me—to see if any sort of relationship is still possible. But does he want a private room because he’s still too afraid for the world to see us together? Probably.
But as I wait in my car, scrolling through the ESB article that Amani sent me, maybe I’m wrong. The Monday before the Championship Game, the NFO has this big media blitz day where key players are asked all sorts of questions, ranging from their skills to their sex life. Last year, Kyle was asked if he was gay, which ultimately led to us meeting. And this year, Kyle was asked the same question. Except he gave the craziest response. Robyn wrote here that he put the question back on the reporter, likely Ricardo, and openly criticized the public for being so concerned over someone’s sexuality. I don’t know why he said this or what this means, but this does not sound like the man who would abandon his boyfriend to escape into a life of normalcy. I think he’s changed.
Pretty soon, I see Kyle’s Cadillac pull up, and my insides immediately twist around themselves. I can do this.
He steps out of the car, and if I wasn’t already sitting down, I would have collapsed to the ground. He’s wearing a suit I’ve never seen before: a navythree-piece with a floral tie and light blue pocket square. It’s freshly creased, and it fits perfectly. I can see the way his muscles tug on the fabric, wishing to be torn free. His wavy hair effortlessly flows back over his head, and his beard is long, full, and sexy. Yet all I’m wearing is a nice sweater and some slacks.
He looks around, and I lower myself. Which is ridiculous. He knows what my car looks like. But, to my relief, he doesn’t spot me and instead walks up to the black façade of the building. An older man comes out of the restaurant and opens the door to the secret hallway, the same way I entered last time. Kyle disappears, and the man stands there. Looks like we’re eating in private after all. I still don’t know what to make of this whole thing.
My phone buzzes. It’s Kyle.
“I’m inside,” he says. “Teddy will let you in through side door.”
I release the deepest breath I’ve taken all day, then open my car door. Here goes nothing.
By the time I’m inside, I feel my heart beating in my throat. And when Teddy leads me to my private room with Kyle, my heart nearly tears itself out of my chest when he locks eyes with me and smiles.
He comes to me, quickly but elegantly, and wraps his bear arms around me. I hold onto his shoulder blades and take in the smell of his leathery cologne mixed with his own scent that acts as my very own aphrodisiac. I find myself breathing rapidly, taking in as much of his smell as I can. Melting into him. Nearly tearing up finally being so close to him. God, I’ve missed him so fucking much.
He pulls away and holds one of his huge hands on my cheek. His thumb strokes me gently, and it takes all my strength not to claim it with my lips and tongue. Behind him, a fire crackles, and tables around us are covered with candles. The lights above are low enough that Kyle’s face is the only thing I can see clearly.
“It’s so good to see you,” he says.
God, his voice.
Then I panic.
This is the same man who walked out on me with no explanation. Who ignored my calls and texts for weeks until I just gave up all together.
I pull away from him. “Hi,” I say, wiping my face, getting his touch off me. But his smell still lingers in my nostrils.
