Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend 4)

I try not to laugh, and I have to cover my mouth.

A few of the guys pause, and I’m two seconds away from thinking calling them out on their shit is gonna backfire. I give a hopeful glance toward the married guys on the team, but surprising me, DeShawn Jenkins is the first to take a shot.

“Give me as many of these as you want,” he says. “No amount of alcohol will make any of you uglies hot.”

It’s the perfect icebreaker. If anyone doesn’t take a drink, they’re admitting that, with enough alcohol, they could be tempted. I think Talon and I let out simultaneous relieved breaths when the others hold up their drinks before knocking them back.

Talon smiles and crosses his arms. “Good. Is this sorted or do we need to stand here and tell you our whole story?”

“We’ve read the articles and seen the tabloids,” Bell says. “You both like guys and girls but love each other.” He shrugs. “Whatever, man, don’t really care. All I care about is kicking ass on the field again this year.”

There’re shouts of agreements all round.

“Good, because if anyone doesn’t like it, you can all go bitch and moan quietly—or not so quietly—with Henderson and Carter.”

“Hey, what did I do?” a voice yells from somewhere.

We turn and see Carter at the end of one of the tables.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were here. We just figured—”

“I already told Jackson I was sorry for the way I acted last season, and I meant it. We’re all here for football, and I can admit when I’m wrong. I was wrong to think Jackson was using his sexuality as a gimmick, and I sure as fuck know you two aren’t with how much heat you’ve brought on yourselves and the rest of the team. No one willingly does that.”

“Heat?” I ask. The team’s been getting heat from it? I know we’ve been hit pretty hard on Twitter, but I’ve spoken to Damon a few times, and he hasn’t said anything about Warriors’ management worrying too much past ticket sales.

A few heads cock toward us in confusion.

“You don’t know, do you?” Bell asks.

Talon frowns. “Know what?”

“Henderson didn’t re-sign,” Bell says. “He’d been demanding more money than he was worth and was still negotiating his new contract. When your news came out …”

“He walked.” I shake my head. Unbelievable. “Who’d he sign with?”

“No one. He’s a free agent. And I doubt anyone will be interested when they see all the hate he’s been spewing on social media.”

I scoff. “He threw away his career because he’d rather give up football than play on a team with us?”

“Someone’s protesting a little too hard there,” Talon says. “Can anyone say overcompensating for something?”

A few of the guys chuckle nervously, but I shake my head again, because I still can’t believe hate can be that powerful. Then again, I see it all the time in the news. Hate is the number one reason for all the bad shit going on in the world. “If he’s that upset over this, then I actually feel sorry for him.”

“Don’t.” Jackson appears at my side and reaches for one of the remaining few shots on the table. “He’s not worth it. And neither is anyone else who can’t see you two were made for each other.” He downs the shot and turns to Talon and me. “Sorry I’m late. I had to get over myself and realize not everything is about me.”

“Says the guy who just signed a twenty-five million-dollar, three-year deal,” Jenkins calls out.

Jackson’s one of the highest paid tight ends in the league now, which is better than his last contract. I’m guessing management felt the need to make it up to him.

Jackson smiles. “Guess next round’s on me?”

And finally. For the first time, something does go better than I expect, and it’s a weight off my shoulders knowing at least half the team has our backs.

* * *

Training camp is as grueling as ever, but the team is strong off the Super Bowl win. If anyone who didn’t come to drinks that night has a problem with Talon and me, they keep their mouths shut.

Talon’s lawyers have eventually managed to get him released from his contract, but Talon had to pay a ton of money to do it. It’s not ideal, but Talon lost all faith in them when they gave him the runaround and tried convincing him to stay in the closet.

So now we share the same agent, the same team, and, soon, the same house. We just have to get through to the end of today.

Training camp hasn’t been going well for me, and it’s the last cut day. I’m guaranteed my salary because of a stipulation in my contract, but that doesn’t mean they won’t cut me.

As much as we love our coaches, it’s on days like this one you don’t want them to approach you in the weight room.