Trick Play (Fake Boyfriend 2)

“That’s … extreme.”

“Nah, that’s homophobic parents for you.”

“Why do you think your brother’s trying to find you?”

“I dunno. It’s a lot of effort to go to when he didn’t know if he could get a hold of me. I’m trying to not jump to conclusions, but I’m thinking something bad happened.”

I don’t say it aloud, but one good thing about Jet making an appearance is Matt’s not freaking out about his meeting anymore.

As soon as we hit the reception area of OnTrack Sports, a slim but toned guy in a T-shirt, skinny jeans, and chucks stands to greet us. My eyes immediately trace his intricate tattoo sleeve on his right arm. His hair is long and shaggy but is the same shade as Matt’s. A duffel bag and soft guitar case sits on the floor next to him, and if Matt hadn’t said Jet was a musician, I would’ve walked right past him in the waiting room. He’s cute but looks nothing like Matt.

“Jethro.” Matt goes to hug him but pulls back at the last second as if thinking better of it. “What are you doing here?”

His brother doesn’t have Matt’s hesitance and brings his older brother in for a hug. “Hey, bro.”

“What happened?” Matt asks.

“What do you think? Same thing that happened to you.”

“Huh?”

If Matt can’t tell his brother is gay, I seriously have to question his gaydar.

“I’m gay as all get out, dude.”

Matt’s mouth drops open, and I laugh at how adorable he is. “Since when?” Matt asks.

“Uh, don’t know if you’ve seen the studies, but pretty sure I’ve been this way my whole life. But I’m guessin’ you either mean when did I figure it out or when I came out. The answers being fourteen, when I saw you and that guy making out when you thought no one was home, and—”

“You were spyin’ on me?” Matt’s accent comes out thick, like Jet’s. And yep, still love it.

“Not in a creepy way. I walked in, saw it, walked back out, and then realized kissing a guy was an option. I hadn’t considered it before then, and I knew both of us would be in shit if I said anything. Also, that guy is married now. To a woman. But I’m pretty sure he’s on Grindr. He has a tattoo on his ribs, right?”

Matt’s eyes find mine, but he quickly looks away.

Jet continues his rambling. “As for coming out, it was at a family dinner two nights ago. They were goin’ on and on as they do, but it’s been a hundred times worse since you came out. Char wants to talk to those reporter guys sniffing around because she wants the money, but Mom and Dad lost their shit over it, and then that began their ranting about gays burnin’ and we’re to pretend you were never born or existed. Don’t talk to them dang reporters and embarrass the family. Wah, wah, wah. I was over it, and I had to get out of there. When they asked where I was going, I said ‘I’m gonna go set myself on fire.’”

Matt scoffs. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. To be fair, I didn’t think they were smart enough to get it. Probably should’ve tried to play it off like I was joking, but I didn’t want to lie anymore. Dad gave me five minutes to pack everything and get out.”

“Sorry,” I say stepping forward, “but can we go back to the reporter part?”

Jet’s eyes meet mine and then trail down my body. “Ah, the boyfriend, right? Senator’s son. Apparently, you’re a big deal.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it. Then he turns to Matt. “When you rebel, you really rebel. Gay and with a black guy?” He laughs. “You should’ve seen Mom and Dad’s face when they saw that in the news. It was awesome.”

“The reporter?” I push again. It can’t be good if they’re going after Matt’s family now.

“Y’all don’t need to worry about them,” Jet says. “Mom and Dad won’t talk. The only one who might is Char. She’s about ready to pop, and she’s livin’ in a trailer. She needs the money, and these guys are offering a lot. One of them approached me in the bar I play at and offered me ten grand to give ’em the scoop.”

“Did you give them one?” I ask.

“Have you seen an article about my brother quoting me as a source? Do I look like a sellout?” There’s the attitude Damon was talking about.

Matt’s eyes dart around the small office area and speaks low. “Can you tone it down? These people are in charge of my career.”

Jet throws his hands up in mock surrender.

“And why does Char need money?” Matt asks. “I send you guys money.”

Jet looks confused. “Uh, no, you don’t.”

“What?” Matt growls. “I send our parents eight grand a month. Have done since I was drafted.”