“We’ve never seen any of that money,” his brother says.
I see the moment it all clicks in Matt’s brain.
“What the hell do they spend that much money on?” Matt asks.
“They still go to the track a lot. Like every day. Dad retired as soon as you made it to the NFL, but—”
“He said he lost his job.”
“Are you really that naïve?” Jet asks.
Matt grits his teeth, his jaw hardening, and I can’t help reaching for him, but then a door opens leading to the offices, so I step back.
“Done with the family reunion yet?” Damon asks. “We have an offer for Matt.”
I can understand what Matt means by Damon not being overly excited over the fact. There’s no smile, no enthusiasm behind his words.
“Want me to come with you?” I ask.
Matt shakes his head. “Can you stay out here with Jethro?”
“Jet,” Jet says. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jet.”
“Sorry, JJ,” Matt says.
“That’s even worse,” Jet mumbles.
I don’t miss the shock on Damon’s face when Matt kisses my cheek before heading into his office, but I’ll deal with that later. I’ll say Matt’s keeping up appearances. For his brother’s sake. For all I know, that’s the truth.
Jet sits on the couch next to his guitar and eyes me again.
“JJ, huh?”
“Don’t even start.”
“Jethro Jackson. Sounds like a country singer.”
“We live like an hour outside of Nashville. What do you expect?”
“And … you need a place to stay?”
“Yeah. I was hoping to stay with Matt, but I guess if what the tabloids are saying is true, that means I’ll be staying with you.”
“Are you going to follow him wherever his contract takes him?” It’s none of my business what this kid does, but the fact of the matter is, Damon said he has an offer for Matt, and I’m projecting my own question onto Jet. Unless it’s a New York team or on the East Coast, I’ll never see Matt. The thought of him moving across country makes me feel sick, and I realize I don’t want him to leave.
“I don’t know what my plans are yet,” Jet says. “I’ll get a job or try to get a booking agent while I’m out here. Maybe follow Matt if I have to, but I don’t want to live off him like our fucked-up parents.”
“Matt and I will help you with whatever you need.”
Jet narrows his eyes, and it takes a second for my own words to sink in. My head’s not with it today. It’s spouting fantasies of shit that’s not real. Matt and I aren’t real.
And the outcome of this meeting may cement that. I need something to take my mind off it.
I turn to Jet. “Tell me your story.”
Chapter Fifteen
Matt
“Chicago,” Damon says, his tone serious and not at all comforting.
Easy decision. “Done. The Warriors may not have seen a Super Bowl in over ten years, but they always go far.” Geographically, Chicago might suck, but it’s what, a two-hour flight? Noah has access to a private plane …
Don’t take your fling into consideration. Football is the goal.
Damon glances at his partner and then back at me. “You haven’t heard the details. The contract. It’s … not good.”
“They’re lowballing me because they know no one wants me?”
“They want you,” Damon says. “They’ve been calling constantly, chasing after you. But they’re bound by the salary cap. It’s a one-year contract with the promise of renewing with a bigger salary and longer contract if you do well throughout the season … if you even make it through training camp cuts.”
I lean forward. “How low is it?”
He slides a piece of paper over to me.
“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s like … an undrafted entrant kinda deal.”
“It’s not ideal, but it’s not that bad,” Damon says. “They’ve offered you basically everything they’ve got. They have a few veterans on their last year, and that’ll open up a whole heap more money if they choose to renew you next season. You can go home and think about it, but there’s no doubt that they do want you. And they’re not lying about the salary cap. We checked. We thought they might’ve been trying to get you on the cheap in case the team decides they don’t want to play with a gay guy, but it checks out. The GM insists your sexuality won’t be an issue. He’ll make sure of it.”
“Bullshit. There’s always money somewhere. If they knew I hadn’t secured a contract by the end of last season—”
“Your renewal with the Bulldogs was supposed to be a given, and the Warriors just scored a new QB.”
Shit. I had read that. “Marcus Talon. Super Bowl champ two years ago. He’s worth every penny they pay him.”
“You don’t have to take this,” Damon says.
“But it might be your only shot.” Of course, the old dude has an opinion on it—take whatever they’ll give me because I’m lucky to get a contract at all.