There was another round of cheers, and fuck, I was really goddamned lucky. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Things would be said by teammates, by rivals, by fans. We were going to have to prove ourselves, but no matter what happened, I had West, and I was free. Having him, being true to myself, was worth the risk.
Chapter Forty-Six
Weston
February
News had gotten out fast about who Anson Hawkins’s boyfriend was, not that we’d tried to hide it. Once he came out, we were finished spending time in the closet.
It had been a bit of a mess and definitely not easy. My past with men was thrown around. Anson had struggled the first few games of the season. Every time a mic was put in front of him, he was asked about his sexuality or about me. Some reporters found creative ways to make it football-related, but others didn’t care. They just wanted their juicy sound bite and fought like hell to get it. We missed each other and didn’t get to spend much time together. Things had gone a little crazy for me after I’d announced my resignation, making me even busier.
Anson was contacted by a college player who would soon be heading into the draft. He was gay and he’d been scared, but Anson living his truth had inspired him to want to do the same.
That had ignited something in Anson nothing else could. “All I can think is, what if I’d had someone to look up to? Someone who was out and playing professional football. Maybe something would have been different for me,” he’d told me. “I can change lives.”
And he did. A switch had been flipped, and he was like Super Anson, but things still hadn’t been perfect. People still asked questions they would never ask a straight man, but Anson was determined to control the narrative, and he had.
Now…now we were at the Super Bowl. Everyone was screaming around us as the Lightning celebrated on the field. Cheryl jumped into my arms, hugging me and crying tears of joy. Carly and Elias celebrated on the other side of me.
Things were still slightly awkward between Cheryl and me, but there were perfect moments where nothing mattered except the fact that we both loved the man on the field, and that love bonded us. She was there, loving him and trying to love me, and that counted for something.
“He did it, West! Oh, I’m so proud. He did it.” When she pulled away, I saw she was crying.
“I’m proud of him too.”
It was a whirlwind from there. They talked to the players on the field and presented the team with the trophy. Afterward, we couldn’t see Anson right away. They had press conferences, so we stayed in our seats, watching as they aired them in the stadium.
When he sat behind the table—media packed into the room in front of him, a Super Bowl champion for the second time—he had a huge smile on his face.
The first question came from a reporter near the back. “You know we have to ask this. It’s a big deal, and there are kids out there who are afraid to come out and who look at you as a hero, so tell us, what’s it like to be the first out gay man to win the Super Bowl?”
“Incredible,” Anson replied. “There’s nothing like it. I just want…I want anyone who is questioning their sexuality, or who knows they’re queer, to know they can be an athlete and be true to themselves. That they’re as worthy as any other player. This championship is even sweeter than last season because I didn’t have to win it in hiding. I didn’t have to lie about who I am.”
After that, the questions steered away from his sexuality and stuck to football. Anson had to try to speak around his smile. He was fucking flying, and I couldn’t wait to kiss my favorite grin.
“Are you planning on doing any celebrating tonight?” someone asked just as Anson’s press conference was coming to an end.
“Yes, ma’am. Last year, as you know, I was still in the closet. My boyfriend, West, came to the game, but he didn’t tell me. While I was out celebrating, he couldn’t be there, and I damn sure plan to have him by my side tonight.”
It still wrecked me to hear him say things like that about me.
Anson left to head back to the locker room, and Elias asked, “Should we go meet him?” but Cheryl’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For making my boy happy. I’m glad you’re here…glad he has you. It’s not every day a mother can say she not only approves, but loves the life partners both her sons have chosen. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
I froze, unsure what to say, the words caught in my throat.