Deke (Fake Boyfriend 3)

When I threatened to quit, I had the security of giving at least two weeks’ notice to find something else.

Now … I have nothing and am starting at square one.

And after a quick search online, it’s obvious there’s no jobs. My kind of position is rarely advertised. It’s all about who you know and your connections. So instead of a frivolous job search, I open my email contacts to put some feelers out.

Shit, I’m gonna need a new résumé, get all my past articles together … Crap, what if Harry takes them all down? Is that a thing?

Sporting Health was my first job straight out of college. I don’t know the protocol with this.

I open my folders on my computer where they’re saved, but three years of articles, I have no way of knowing if they’re all there. Sometimes, I’d upload straight to the work cloud.

Before I can really get a hold of one thing, another thought pops up, and before I know it, I have about fifteen tabs open with no real direction.

Welcome to the life of being a reporter.

I slump back on my bed and take a deep breath. The sheets still smell like sex, reminding me I’m gonna have to apologize pretty fucking hard after dismissing Ollie the way I did.

Realistically, though, where can we go from here?

Ollie’s out now. He can date and have a boyfriend. But that boyfriend can’t be me. I’ll never work as a sports journalist again, and it’s all I’ve known.

Then again, aren’t we making our own rules? Soren coming out, Ollie standing behind him … this is uncharted territory, and we could pave the way for gay men in sports, which has been my goal ever since becoming a journalist.

I grab my phone and send off a text.

Me: Soren still with you?

Damon: Yeah, why?

Me: I have an idea for a story …

Within seconds, my phone vibrates with Damon’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey,” I say into the phone.

“What’s the story?” Damon asks. “Soren’s here on speaker.”

“I want to do Soren’s coming out story.”

I’m met with silence.

“Hear me out. You guys know people will be pushing for this, but I’m the only reporter who’ll do it fairly without trying to use gimmicks and without stereotyping.”

“Uh,” Soren says, his voice hesitant. “I don’t really want to do a favor to the magazine that was going to out me.”

“Oh, right. Probably should’ve led with they fired me, and I’d be shopping this around to other magazines. I have a contact at Sports Illustrated after writing that article about Damon about a year ago.”

“They fired you?” Damon asks.

“Yep.”

“I’ll do it,” Soren says.

“Really? I didn’t think it’d be that easy. Do you need to ask your agent?”

“His soon-to-be agent is right here, and he approves,” Damon says.

Soren’s chuckle comes through the phone. “Lennon, how long have you known Ollie’s gay?”

“About eight months.”

“The fact he only just came out means I can trust you.”

“Umm, I should say upfront I don’t have any money to give you. Other places would offer you compensation.”

“Dude,” Damon says, “you’d sold him already. Don’t back down.”

Soren laughs again. “I’d rather have the story I want out there instead of more money I don’t need.”

The stress over my career eases with the promise of Soren’s story, but my work is far from done.

And now with some semblance of a plan, my head breaks out of reporter mode and back into boyfriend mode.

Oh, fuck. I need to grovel.

As if sensing my readiness, there’s a knock on the door, and Ollie steps through.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Tension in his shoulders relaxes.

“I’m really sorry.”

Ollie smiles. “It’s okay.”

“No, I was a dick.”

“You were scared.”

“Doesn’t mean I should’ve said all the shit I did. I freaked out. I don’t regret standing by you yesterday. Not at all.”

As Ollie approaches the bed, I close my laptop and shove it on my nightstand. He climbs on top of me and lowers his head to kiss my mouth.

“Is this your way of forgiving me?” I ask against his lips.

“If our fight has proved anything, it’s that I don’t want you to walk away. I want to find a way to make us work.”

“I want that too.”

Ollie kisses me the same way he did back in the cold corridors of the Dragons’ stadium when he was convincing me that we can be together.

My tongue sweeps into Ollie’s mouth, and his whole body relaxes on top of me. We make out a little but don’t make a move to go any further. I can’t help being self-conscious about getting it on in a house full of people again.

When we finally come up for air, I land soft kisses along his jaw and neck before rolling him off me so we’re side by side.

“Did you come up with a job solution?” He braces himself, almost like he’s expecting to be yelled at again.