Out in the Offense (Out in College 3)

Rory sat up and gave a thoughtful once-over. “You don’t have to do it all at once, baby. We can stay on the DL until next year. Take your time. I’ll give you all the room you need to figure it out. I’m your tutor. We’ve a reason to be together, and we’ll make it work for as long as we can.”

I frowned. “What does ‘as long as we can’ mean?”

“I’m a ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of guy. You never have to worry about me not being honest with you. I know how the partial in-and-out-of-the-closet scenario goes. You never really have to commit. You let people think what they want while you go about your business. In theory, that’s fine. The truth is, there’s always an unaccounted variable that skews the whole equation and creates a—”

“Whoa. Stop.” I set my hand over his mouth and narrowed my gaze. “Why are you talking ‘math language’?”

“Am I?”

“You are. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just trying to tell you that I’m not gonna stand in your way. I want to see you tackle your dreams head on. I wanna see you on offense. And I don’t ever want to be the reason you didn’t go for it one hundred and ten percent. Does that make sense?”

“Sort of, but it sounds like you’re giving yourself an out.”

“It’s the other way around, Christian.” He bent to kiss my temple before getting out of bed and heading for his dresser. He stepped into a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, then grabbed the bags of chips. “We gotta eat real food. I’ll start chopping veggies. Do me a favor and strip the sheets off the bed. We don’t want to sleep in crumbs tonight.”

I stared after him for a long moment, mulling over his ability to make a major statement using a mere six words. He was right. I was the one with the escape route. He was out and proud, and I was contemplating whom I could trust with something I’d known about myself for over a decade. And then he’d called me by my name to emphasize his point. He rarely called me Christian. I was QB or babe or baby. The separation between formal and familiar…who we were in the beginning versus who were now. This version of us could only last so long if we weren’t committed and honest about who we were to each other.

The future I envisioned included the hunk singing to his cat in the kitchen. I didn’t want the short-term fix. I wanted forever. And that would require a big statement and some big fucking balls. I’d always considered myself to be reasonably brave, but I was beginning to realize I’d never really been tested.

Something told me that was about to change.

I was right.

Max texted me Monday afternoon before practice. Sky moved out. Call me.

I studied the message for a second, then checked the time. I have ten minutes to get dressed and on the field, I thought before pressing Call.

“Moved out?” I asked when he answered on the first ring.

“He cleared out his stuff. Everything’s gone. His clothes, his shoes, his flavored condom collection. Everything.”

“Okay. This is sudden.” I leaned against the stucco wall to get out of the breezeway. The cold November wind carried a serious bite. “Or did you know?”

“We got in a huge fight last night. I told him we should take a break and that we shouldn’t live together. He agreed. Except not in an amicable way. He was pissed when he left last night. He didn’t come home. Looks like he waited for me to leave for class before moving his shit out and…”

“And what?” I prodded.

“He quit the team,” Max said in a shaky voice.

“Why?”

“Why do you think? Are you listening? He wants to come out. He didn’t think he could be out and be on the baseball team.”

A suffocating silence filtered through the line.

“What are you not saying?”

“Be careful. He wants revenge. It might just be me he’s after, but watch your back.”

“Fuck.” I swiped my hand across my jaw and nodded absently at a few of my teammates as they made their way to the lockers. “All right. Are you okay?”

Max huffed humorlessly. “Peachy. I don’t know if I should talk to my coach or wait to see what Sky does, but…I’ll be fine. I’m sorry, Chrissy.”

“Me too. It’ll be okay,” I said, hoping the tired platitude was the truth before disconnecting the call.

I took a deep breath as I stuffed my cell into my bag; then I stepped onto the pathway and immediately bumped into Jonesie and Moreno. Great. I wasn’t sure what to say to Jonesie after my accidental revelation Saturday night, but I wasn’t engaging in a heart-to-heart with Moreno there, and I was too shaken by Max’s bombshell. So I tilted my chin in greeting and headed for the locker room.