by Leigh Lennon
“Okay, we’re going live in three, two, and…” He’s silent for the number one, and the anchor turns to us.
“Good morning. I’m Hunter Graves. I’m live in Nashville with one of the most talented quarterbacks we’ve seen in years. This man, he’s something else and leaves for press week in Atlanta today. I’ve been given an exclusive last-minute interview with him.”
He turns to Crush. “Thanks for making some time this morning as your team embarks on their trip to Atlanta. I have to say you’re making history.”
There’s a pause, and Crush swallows hard, my head is turned watching his profile. “Yes, and thanks, Hunter. I appreciate it.”
“If there was one thing about your game you’d want anyone and everyone to know about, what would it be?”
He lets out an almost strangled breath, and with his leg shaking, I move my hand to his knee, and he calms with my touch as he had earlier. The boyish grin he’s known for returns to his face. “I guess, my love for football started when my dad took me out with my two younger brothers and would toss the ball. I’d always throw, and with that, my dad saw something in me. But my love goes back over twenty plus years.”
“And your brothers, did they play?”
He laughs as though he’s remembering a memory. “My middle brother played in high school, but enlisted in the military because it was his dream. My baby brother played at the University in Seattle and is now in medical school.”
“And what position did they play?”
A smirk falls on my man’s face. “Quarterback, of course.”
Hunter lets out a little chuckle. “Of course. But I understand you have been put on the offensive as someone is about to expose a personal part of your life to the press.”
Crush, in his nervous way, clears his throat again. “Yes, Hunter, you’re correct. And I’m glad you used the word personal. I try to live my life in private, but I understood, when I made certain choices, I wouldn’t be able to.”
“And what is that? Why is this person coming after you?”
Another nervous habit of Crush is how he rubs his chin to give him a chance to formulate the right words.
“I’ve loved one person for a long time, and it wasn’t until this person came back into my life that I realized what I wanted. What I was. What I was missing. And again, it’s a part of me I wish I could live with where it’s not in front of the whole world, but I can’t,” Crush confesses.
“And why do you think this, Crush? And believe me, I certainly agree with you that you should be able to live your life the way you see fit.”
The cameraman signals at us. He’s zooming out, encompassing each other on the screen.
“Well, as most of you see, beside me is Ryder Hanley. We played football together in college. He became my best friend. Life got in the way, and we lost touch. I got married and was faithful throughout my entire marriage. But when he came back into my life, I realized what I always knew deep down in my heart. I’ve always loved this man.”
“And what does this mean?”
I interlace my fingers with his. “This man next to me, Ryder Hanley, is my boyfriend, my future, and everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.”
We have a car waiting for us because the press had gotten wind of the story in the twenty minutes from when the live interview aired.
The driver has the address, and I’m told Alison’s interview has been canceled. The world knows now, and the scorned ex-wife no longer works to the media’s advantage.
We ride in comfortable silence, our hands together, never letting my touch leave him. It’s not what we wanted, not the week before the big game, but as long as we’re together, we can get through anything.
In a matter of what feels like minutes, we pull up into the home Crush shared with Alison. And the press is camped on her lawn. “We’ll go through the back. She’ll be pissed to see us, either way, so it doesn’t matter,” Crush explains.
The driver, a man bigger than Solomon, blocks the press to allow us access to the backyard. On the patio, Crush’s anger reaches a new level as he pounds on the door. Through the glass, Brooklyn comes running when her eyes set on us. He loosens his taut posture, his body relaxing with the sunshine she brings into our life.
“It’s Pops, Mommy. He here and Ryda, too.”
Alison rounds the corner, all dolled up as if she was about to go on national news. Oh, yeah, she was—and now is not.
She swings the back door open. Brooklyn squirms her way around Alison to catapult into her dad’s arms. “Hey, peanut. Let’s get inside.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Alison demands.
Crush puts Brooklyn down, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, peanut, I want to see you before I leave, but I need to talk to your mommy. Can you do me a favor and play in your room, then I’ll come get you. Okay?”
She stands with her hands on her hips. “Are you going to tell me you love Ryda, and he your bofrend?”
Crush is still at her eye level. His face turns up to me. “I guess we didn’t fool a lot of people, did we, Ry?”
“Uh, yeah, you’re right.” I try to ignore Alison’s snarls and huffs.
“Peanut, is that okay with you? There are some people who don’t think men should date men.”
“You loves him, rights?” Brooklyn’s innocence is a breath of fresh air and I relish in it, because I love her, like she’s mine.
Crush takes my hand, giving it a kiss. “Yeah, peanut, with all my heart.”
“You marry him?” She is nosy on most days, but today, she’s super inquisitive.
“I hope so. As a matter of fact, Ry will be living with me.”
She stands, and it’s my turn to catch her. “I a prove of dis.” She squeezes me tight.
“Okay, peanut,” Crush starts. “I have to get going. And I want to talk to your mommy for five minutes. Remember, Grammy and Pop Pop will be here next week to bring you to my game, okay?”
“Yays.” She gives her dad a kiss, still in my hands. “I love you, Pops.” Then turns her sweet face to mine. “And I love yous, too, Ryda.”
I place her down, and she runs toward the stairs, singing the whole way.
Alison begins to speak, and I’m about to stop her, but Crush beats me to the punch.
“I speak, you listen. I’ve done everything I can, raising a child together as cohesive as I could make it. But you were going to out me in public, and that was only going to hurt Brooklyn. As it was, I wanted to get through this last game, but you pushed up the timetable. And if you think that you’ll be able to turn my child against me or seek full custody, you’ll have a shit storm to contend with. She’s your daughter. Start putting her first, or I’ll be forced to do something you won’t like.”
His head shifts to me. “You have anything to add, baby?”
Oh, fuck —do I ever. “Keep alienating everyone, and you’ll be left alone on your own. Not sure that’s what you want. But it’s where you’re heading.” My warning feels fan-fucking-tastic falling from my lips.
He takes my hand, and before Alison has a chance to respond, we’re on her back deck and through the fence and in our limo.
“How did that feel?” I ask once the limo leaves the house.
“Fucking freeing.” And because I agree, I take him in my arms, and I cover his lips with mine.
32
Crush
“This is what we’ve been waiting for, pretty boy,” I say to Ry when we line up at the entrance to the stadium on the most important game of our lives.
“Yeah, it’s what we’ve been waiting for,” Ry replies and I give him a kiss on the cheek, placing my helmet on my head.
“No PDA at the big game!” Solomon yells out, and as the team has loved razzing us for affection with one another, they begin playfully teasing.
“Alright, let’s kick their ass.” I’m the fearless leader, and regardless of my sexual orientation, the team still follows me. It renews my faith in the human race. Sur
e we’ve had some hate, and during the press week, we got our share of inappropriate questions, but it comes with the territory.
We run onto the field as our team’s name is announced. The crowd erupts when we leave the tunnel leading to the stadium. The time ticks by too quickly, and our team wins the toss. We kick off for the first half, and my eyes stay steady on our defense.
“We got this.” I hear Ry behind me. And I’m sure the press has this little interchange between the two of us on every network.
My eyes turn to his, and I know with him by my side, we do have this. The crowd begins cheering, well, at least the fans for our team, when the other team doesn’t get a first down.
“Alright, pretty boy, you ready to catch some balls?”
“Your balls? Anytime, any day.”
Running onto the field, side by side, we’re laughing together. I’m focused, hyper-focused because, for the first time ever, I can be myself.
And like every time we’re on the field, our chemistry shines through, something special as he fakes, running into the end zone and catching the long throw for a touchdown.
This is the first half, and the defense is doing their job, stopping the offense, who’ve only gained eighty yards for the first two quarters.
The half ends, and on the way to the locker room, I’m snagged by a reporter. I’m not surprised.
“Crush, your team is having the game of the century. And you and Ryder Hanley seem to be in sync. Do you attribute this to sharing your relationship publicly?”
It’s something Ryder cautioned me about early on. Everyone is going to dig. We shared a little bit of our life, but the rest is private. I give the reporter a small smile. “Ryder and I are playing in sync because that’s how we practice. It’s part of our job. And there are nine other people on the field besides us. So they have a lot to do with our success.”
It’s a suspended halftime due to the show they perform on the field. Banks Weston, the new country sensation, can be heard in the locker room. It’s not the blessing we need, nor what we’re used to. It gives us time to get complacent and tight. We wait after the pep talk from our coach. There isn’t anything to critique us on, because we were as solid as we’ve ever been.
“You okay?” Ry’s behind me, his helmet in his hands, as ready as I am to get back on the field.
“Yeah, waiting like this is hell.”
He moves some shoulder pads on the bench in front of my locker. “I saw your interview. They’ll continue to probe and prod, but they’ll get the hint. And I’m happy as fuck that you kept it about the game.”
“Yeah, and you think I never listen to you,” I tease.
We sit in comfortable silence, our minds still on the game, because like I’d said earlier, this is our job.
Coach’s voice cuts through the chitchat. “Let’s get our asses back out there. Make it a half you’re proud of.”
We rally together, a full team, and as we run back onto the field, it’s the one goal I have in mind.
We receive the ball first, and special teams are unable to carry it far. Twenty-four to zero isn’t what the fans want for the big game, but as the person on the winning side, it’s not a bad place to be.
With the ball hiked to me, I drop back, fake to Ry, and pass the ball off to Solomon, who bursts through the defensive line again and easily gives us a first down. With every play, we continue our strong game, easily getting first downs over and over again.
We cut a lot of time off the game clock for the third quarter, only to have two minutes left once Dallas scores.
Our defense takes the field, letting them acquire a couple of first downs, getting within scoring position for the first time all game. I’m on the sideline, my eyes laser-focused on the entire game. I feel a stare blazing through me, and I turn my head for a second, and it’s Ry’s gaze I catch. He sends me a little wink, and I return with a broad smile.
The kick-off from the other team gets returned for a touchdown, and at 38 to 3, my smile grows larger at the idea of sharing this win with the man I love.
Our defense stops their offense, and before I know it, the two-minute warning sounds, and our competitors are out of time-outs. The game is essentially over as we kneel with less than thirty seconds left, and the celebration begins.
Our coach is bathed in Gatorade, and we continue to celebrate. We’re inundated by several broadcasters. With a sigh of relief, Garrison is the one to approach me.
“Let me be the first to congratulate you. Tell me, Crush, how are you feeling?”
I’m about to answer him, as other team members appear on the field with their children and spouses. Out of the corner of my eyes, someone catches my attention.
“I’m sorry, Garrison, give me one second.” I turn to see my man, carrying my daughter. I had no idea where he’d gone, but he knew besides him, there’s no one I want with me than my peanut.
“You think of everything, pretty boy.” I pull him close to me as Brooklyn falls into our arms.
“It’s because I know you better than you know yourself.” He places a soft kiss on my forehead, and I imagine every fucking camera is on us at this moment. It’s not meant to be public, but then again, I won’t hide. I won’t divulge every part of it, but it’s freeing to live the life I want. The life I have chosen. It’s all because of this man in front of me—my only reason, and my future.
Epilogue
Seven years later
Ryder
"Are you sure about this?" I ask, and my hand is interlaced with my husband's. From the other side of the wall, the press room is full to the brim. And the assumptions are flying as to what our big announcement is.
"I'm thirty-six, baby. I've had a good run." His tone is confident, and it's all I need to hear to understand he's truly ready. He caresses my chin and drops a kiss on my nose. "Like you said so long ago, I want to control the narrative. I'm on the top of my game, and I will go out on the top."
It's true, even with the injuries that had plagued him for the past year, his game is still top-notch. "And anyway, why do you get to be the only one in our household to retire?" he teases.
I retired two years ago for the same reasons he just expressed. But I wouldn't quite say I've retired. "I think I'm still working, big country," I tease.
"Oh, yeah, you get to fly from city to city. You're able to talk about other men in their tight pants and about a sport you love almost as much as me."
Wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, I let out a slight chuckle at his words. "First off, I only have eyes for you, and second, there's nothing in this world I love more than you, except for maybe our kids."
"Yeah, yeah, this is the truth," he admits, and before I can kiss him, the peace and quiet we've been sharing are gone and replaced with said kids.
"Ooooh, they kiss gain, sissy," our son calls out, holding the hand of his older sister. Brooklyn has become a godsend to both of us. At twelve, she helps us with the twins on days like today. She lives with us full-time, unable to stomach her mother more than a couple of weekends a month. Her choice was instrumental with the judge when we revisited custody a couple of years ago. He gave her to us full-time. After all, with us, there are two parents, and Alison is still single and very lonely.
"Yeah, get used to it, Thomas. It's always been like this." With her other hand, interlaced with Paisley, Brooklyn lets go immediately as she runs to Crush.
"Pops, I stay here with sissy,' kay?" Neither Brooklyn nor Paisley like the press, but Thomas, on the other hand, is a little bit of a diva like me. He's begged me to hold him during the press conference. And Crush had done the same thing two years ago when I announced my retirement, and he'd been a champ. He loves the cameras.
I watch my big strong man kneel before our daughter and pull her in for a hug. "Of course, Paise."
Garrison, who's forever been that friend to Crush and me through the past seven years together, pops his head out. "Crush, they're ready for you."
"Yeah,
be right out, Garrison," he returns. Brooklyn rushes up to her father, pulling him in for a hug.
"Pops, I'm proud of you." Even I become a little bit teary at this affection Brooklyn shows her dad. And when it comes to my sassy princess, I love her like a father, as I do Paisley and Thomas.
"Thanks, peanut." With Thomas in one arm, Crush grabs my free hand.
"Ready for this, babe?" I ask.
"As long as you're by my side, pretty boy, I'm ready for anything life throws at us."
The End
Bonus Epilogue
The Night after the Big Game
Dallas
As a football player, winning the big game is all I've ever dreamed of. And when we arrived back at our stadium, there was no one to greet me. And as I've known from the second I let him walk out of my life a year ago, I'd likely never find anyone to fill his void.
I want to celebrate the big win, but what use is it, when the one I want with me won't return my phone calls—even though I'd known he was at the game tonight. I'd hoped by coming out, it'd show him I'm truly ready. But he'd told me the day he gave me the ultimatum, he'd never wait for me.
My drive back to my large and luxurious home only is another kick in the gut of having everything money can buy, except for him. I slide my vintage Mustang into my garage when my text alert scares me. Pulling it to my line of sight, I smile at the name on the screen.
Ryder: Where you at, man? You ran out of here so fast I thought your pants might be on fire.
I do have friends. But Ryder and Crush have one another, and if I had what they had, I sure as fuck wouldn't want anyone around. I push from my car, and I take the couple of steps from the garage to my home, to see the alarm is disabled.
No one has the code, not since….but it can't be him. I push the door open slowly, pulling for the panic button that can be taken off my alarm system, and proceed within the house.
