“I knew that,” Ezekiel says, which hurts more than I liked it to. “I mean your book club thing. Isn’t that how Timmy thinks you’ll find someone?”
Book club.
Images of Michael’s smiling face fills my mind.
“It’s fun,” I admit. “I’m even helping out someone there with their writing.”
Ezekiel beams and taps me on the arm. “There you go. See, maybe this is the one.”
My stomach tumbles over itself at the thought. I’m not gay, but I’ve wondered what it would be like to date a man. And naturally, that man I wonder about happens to be Michael. He’s so sweet, and these books he’s having me read—I thought they would be boring, but damn do these women know how to write. I stayed up way past my bedtime reading that Emily Henry. She makes me want to kick my feet like a little girl. I’m no expert at love, but I just have this feeling that dating Michael would feel a little something like that.
Just a thought though.
The reporter makes his way to Ezekiel, which means it’s time for me to go. Not even fully out of my practice gear, I grab my things and make my way out. In my hand, my phone buzzes with that particular notification, and I get a rush of adrenaline. Michael posted a new video.
“Wait, Kyle,” another reporter says. “We have some questions—”
“No comment!” I yell out as I scurry the hell out of there. My agent said to not talk to the press until I have a girl, which means I don’t have to talk to anyone yet. Thank God.
I fast-walk to my car. I throw open the trunk, toss all my shit inside, and get inside my car before any more reporters can harass me. I welcome the blistering heat, sweat dripping down my bare chest, and that’s when I remember the notification.
My heart pounding, I open the notification and go straight to OnlyFans. I know it’s risky opening it up here, but this is the first video he’s posted since he and I started meeting. And I don’t know if I like it.
I start the video, and there’s no foreplay. They get right to it.
Heat surges throughout my body, and that stale car heat no longer feels good. I turn on my car and start blasting AC. “Come on,” I say, hot and uncomfortable. “Cool me off already.”
The guy railing him is one of his old regulars. Oh God. Are they dating? Have they been dating this whole time? I just assumed, since Michael has videos with so many different guys, that he was single. I should be okay with this. Michael is just some guy—a friend, nothing more. But then why do I feel like I’m burning from the inside out?
And his face. It’s hardened, and his eyes almost look puffy. He’s upset.
Someone knocks on my window, and I shout and throw my phone into the air. I quickly grab it and not only close it but shut it off. I pray to the god I’ve grown up with that whoever this is didn’t just see me watching Michael.
I put my phone in the little cubby and turn to the person standing at my window. The sun shines off his bald head.
I roll down the window. “Hey, Timmy,” I say.
“Scared ya there,” he says, leaning on the window frame.
I force a laugh. “Just startled me is all. What’s going on?”
“I wanted to follow up on how the dating’s going,” he says. “Haven’t heard from you.”
Even with the AC blasting, I just get hotter. “It’s uhh… going.”
“You are trying to find someone, right? Management still hasn’t budged on their stance. They want to see you with a girlfriend, and only then will they consider. The sooner the better.”
Great. Even with my improved playing, I’m still in the same place I was. “I’m trying, Timmy. I promise.”
“Well gimme some details then.”
I freeze up. I still haven’t even gone, but Michael has been telling me what they’re reading.
“Yeah, we’ve been reading…”
“I don’t care about the books,” he says. “Are you meeting girls there or not?”
That heartburn feeling returns. The only person I’ve talked to at book club is Michael. So, I just make up a lie.