Illegal Contact (The Barons 1)

My heart all but stopped. I tried to form words, but the terror that crept over me struck me silent. Joe shook his head at me, still sneering and yet reassuring me at the same time.

“I’ve already fixed it. But I can’t fix everything. So you need to go.”

“Joe,” I said, voice scraping out lower than usual. “I would never hurt Gavin. And I know you think you have me all figured out, and you’ve probably seen this type of thing a million times before, but . . . it’s not what you think. I care about him.”

“When this started, you couldn’t even stand to look at him.”

“I know, but that changed. Fast. Now, I . . . like him. As a person. Not a football player or a celebrity or anything else.” I stopped clawing at the insides of my arms and dropped my hands, letting them dangle at my sides. “He calls me on my bullshit, and challenges me, and makes me explain myself way more than anyone I’ve ever met, but he also makes me smile more than anyone I’ve ever been with. He makes me reconsider my assumptions and think. Really think. About why I feel the way I feel or why I’m saying the things I’m saying. And I know I’m unprofessional and awful, but I can’t change those feelings. And I can’t stop him from returning them. So I’m sorry you don’t approve, but it is what it is.”

“You’re right. I can’t change your feelings or his, but I want you to think about something.” Joe moved closer to me, and his voice dropped like he knew someone was coming. As if, after all this time, he could sense Gavin, just like I now could, after spending so much time in his presence. “Is anything I said about what will happen after he’s off house arrest ringing false? His lifestyle, the changes between you two once he’s back in it, and how about a relationship where he can’t even acknowledge you in public? Because I’ll tell you one thing, Noah. The NFL can give all the sensitivity training they want, but the majority of players, coaches, and general managers don’t want a gay or bisexual man in the locker room. If it doesn’t ruin his reputation, it will ruin his relationship with his own team. And he’ll end up a free agent by the time his contract ends.”

Each statement was a rock sinking into my stomach until I was close to following suit and dropping to my knees. It wasn’t just the worst-case-scenario outlook. It was the fact that they did ring true. And somehow, while existing in this perfect world where there was nothing but me and Gavin and our hands and kisses and the taste of his sweat, and us helping each other in ways neither of us had expected, I’d stopped thinking about the real world. I’d stopped thinking about how this could affect him, and how it would inevitably affect me.

The fight drained out of me, and Joe saw it. For just a second, his face softened, before he slammed the shutters down again.

“End this now, Noah. Before you both get hurt.”

Joe walked around me to head out the door. He ran directly into Gavin. The suspicion on his face gave way to stormy realization once he met my gaze.

“Joe, what the fuck did you do?”

“I told him the truth. And it’s about time you both let it sink in and move the hell on.”

Gavin inhaled deeply, but I grabbed his wrist before he could go off. Instead of exploding on his manager, he held himself tight, barely breathing, until Joe excused himself from the room.

“Gavin . . .”

“No.” He yanked his hand away from me. “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. This is bullshit.”

“What’s bullshit?”

“I can tell just by looking at you that you let him get in your head and fuck everything up.”

I had to look away from his angry face before I let him get in my head. And undo all the stark realizations that had just come crashing down on me. I walked to the couch and sat down, slumping until my knees hit the coffee table.

“Come here,” I said.

Gavin stood over me, glowering and breathing hard and generally looking like he was going to flip out. He looked between me and the door, like he couldn’t figure out who he wanted to chew out first. But when I reached out my hand, he took it and let me draw him down to the couch.

“We need to talk about where this is going.”

“Where do you want it to go?” When I hesitated, he leaned closer. “Noah. Just say it.”

“I can’t just say it, because it’s not an easy answer.” I’d forced him to sit next to me, but now I wanted to jump up and pace the room. “I think we both have feelings for each other, beyond being horny and stuck together. But Joe is right that it can’t . . . end well.”