Blind Date (A Why Choose Romance)

“But the two of you aren’t an item anymore. How did they get photos?” And why couldn’t they respect the poor dude’s privacy?

Hank shook his head. “We hooked up, and we must have gotten careless.” I couldn’t bear to hear the sad sound of weary defeat in his voice.

As he spoke, a buzz of chatter had started. The guys must have found the photos, and I became aware of a group of men closing in behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Drake, Phil, and Jax right at my elbow. I was pretty sure these guys were among those who didn’t already know.

“Hank, man,” Drake called out way too loud for the few feet of distance between them.

I tensed, ready to step in if anything turned nasty or even physical.

“These photos. You guys look cute together. Don’t let anyone disrespect you. I got your back, man.”

Hank turned his attention to the guys. “Thanks, man.”

“But, dude,” Phil said. “How come you’ve never told us? Cos, my younger brother, he’s gay. And he has the biggest crush on you. I’d have introduced you, but I’ve been keeping him away because I figured he’d make a fool of himself annoying you.”

Hank grinned. And then laughed. It was pretty funny when Phil proceeded to pull up a picture of his brother on his phone. Pretty soon, the whole team was laughing and joking and naming all the gay dudes we could think of who might want to date Hank, from pop stars to someone’s elderly grandpapa.

“We sure as hell don’t need a crowd of so-called journalists right outside our door when we’re preparing for a game,” I called out.

“Too right, we got this.”

And another group of players went outside. We heard shouting, but not what they said. But when they returned, all was quiet out there.

Honestly, I understood the need for journalism. It was important, but a lot of them fell down the dark path of only chasing the next dollar and creating stories that didn’t really exist. Maybe desperation took them there or whatever, but anything that encouraged such gross privacy violations shouldn’t be allowed to happen.

Hank had taken a seat on a bench, leaning up against the wall. “My career is fucked, man.”

I took my seat next to him. “How so? You being gay has nothing to do with anything. You’re one of the best players on the team. World-class like the rest of us.”

“Man, I’ve kept it under wraps for years. Team into disrepute. Lies and all that. What about sponsorships or my next contract? Where are they going to come from now? You know, once I’ve even tried to pray the gay away? It’s all shit. Just, I can’t do long-term celibacy. I’m not wired that way.”

“If they fire you for this, Hank, you have eight million lawsuits you can file, and lawyers would be lining up around the block to represent you pro-bono. A lot of them live for this stuff, man. As for the future, you’ll have sponsorships coming out of your ass. Every big brand wants to be associated with a top-class gay sportsman.”

I noticed Tyler coming a little closer.

Hank sighed. “Yeah, well, they can always find a way. Coach Sinclair always told me it’d be best if I kept it to myself. Not because he had a problem with it, but because team owners hate any sort of controversy. They want everything happy and safe.”

“The fuck. No one’s firing you right now. And in the future, this will die down, and you’ll get new contracts because you’re a fucking ace player,” Tyler said with his usual style of storming profanity and anger. “If they cut you from the team, refuse to renew your contract, or whatever the fuck else? I’m walking. I quit. I’m done. If I smell anything the slightest bit fishy, I’m going on the warpath. Hell, I’ll say I’m fucking gay too, and I’ll pose for the photos proving it.”

“This isn’t a warpath,” I said. “Calm down.”

“Of course, it is. Whoever took those photos and put them out there knew what they were doing—stirring up trouble. You ain’t seen the warpath, Ethan. Someone harms a friend of mine, someone’s going to lose a limb.”

“What’s with you and dismemberment today?”

“This is just a dismemberment sort of day.”

“We’re with Tyler, man,” Jake said, his brother in tow, finishing the rest of our clique coming together. “We’ll walk if corporate doesn’t back Hank all the way.”

“Add me as a fourth,” I said. “We ride together. If they want to take that gambit and fire you, jokes on them because we’ll happily take the war to the Argonauts as part of the Johnsonville Knights or whoever the else fuck hires us.”

Hank laughed, a smile returning to his face. “You bastards are crazy; you know that?”

“You have no idea.”