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Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the authors’ rights is appreciated. The persons, places, and events of this novel are works of fiction. Any coincidence with individual’s past or present, is merely that, coincidence.
This work of fiction was created based on the mind of the author and does not reflect at all on the NFL or NASACR.
Substance abuse is a serious illness. If you know anyone who may suffer from substance abuse, please contact the National Drug Helpline.
http://drughelpline.org/
© S.L. Perrine – Author
© S.L. Perrine with Mayhem Publications 2019
Table of Contents
Dedication
Trigger Warning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7________________________________
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Dedication
This series is dedicated to everyone who supports love and all its fallacies.
And to my children;
the best characters I ever made.
Trigger Warning
This story contains instances of Substance Abuse and hazing of professional athletes. It also contains a traumatic accident and/or injury.
This is a gay romance with instances of male nudity, profanity and sex. Not recommended for anyone under the age of 18.
This work of fiction was created based on the mind of the author and does not reflect at all on the NFL or NASACR. Substance abuse is a serious illness. If you know anyone who may suffer from substance abuse, please contact the National Drug Helpline.
http://drughelpline.org/
Other 18+ Books by
Shannon Lee Perrine
The Himalayan Files
Tundra Witch, #1
Ravana Moon Series
The Darker Side of Me, #1
Hide and Seek, #2
Open at Sunrise
Ya/NA Series by S.L. Perrine
The Beast Within Series
The Blood Rites Trilogy
The Crawford Witch Chronicles
Of Kings and Queens
Chapter 1
Connor
The sun set every night and rose every day. It was inevitable. Just like it was inevitable that I’d get my heart broken once again. Every time I opened myself up, I was let down. This time would be the last. I had no intention of living this hellish nightmare all over again. I was swearing off relationships forever.
That’s what I told myself as I walked into the second bar this evening. The first was full of college kids on a spring break bender. Not my scene. I didn’t fit in with the polo shirt and dockers-crowd. I’d already lived my experimental twenties and was well into my frustrated thirties.
When the bar finally came into view past all the grinding bodies, I sat on the edge of a barstool and waved down the man behind the counter. He wasn’t bad looking with dark hair and brooding eyes type. The same type I had always gone for, but not this time. No, this time the only man I wanted was Jack, Jimmy or Morgan; three of my favorite men which straddled the shelf behind the bar in a clean line. The man stepped in front of me, blocking my line of sight of the mirror displaying the assorted liquors and I snapped back to reality. My mind had a way of dwelling on things when it wasn’t consumed with swimming in at least eighty proof.
“Kraken. Neat.” I don’t need anything watered down. What I need is the alcohol to do its job of numbing all my pain. So, when the dark-haired bartender set the glass in front of me, I downed it in one gulp. “Another,” I said putting the glass on the bar. “Make it a double.”
“Sure thing,” he gave me the sexiest smile; all pearly white, and damn if I didn’t come in my jeans when I saw the flick of silver behind them. However, this was not a drink and get laid, night. This was a drink and get mindlessly drunk, kinda night.
My boyfriend of three years just packed up all his shit and moved out of our place while I was at work. He didn’t even have the god-damned decency to send me a text, email or leave behind a note. Now, he was just another man who promised he’d never leave but did.
Even though I wanted to punch and break shit, being the well-mannered man I am, I just changed out of my work clothes and left. Throwing them haphazardly around the room was about as much defiance as I was willing to commit in my home. That’s what led me to throw on my going out clothes and dived into the nearest bar.
By the time sexy dark hair, as I was committed to calling him for the rest of the night, returned with the entire bottle, I was finally feeling a buzz. Noting the number of college kids in the last bar led me to believe that liquor was watered down. Not in this place.
“You look like you’re going to have me running back and forth. So, how about we just say this one is yours?” He smiled with the little silver ball dangling between his teeth.
“Good deal. Thanks, man,” I helped myself to the next pour and turned to sip on my drink while watching the men on the dancefloor. The best thing about New York was intolerance of everyone but being gay had become a sport. Those who were had finally been able to come out of the closet. And those who were not were all about supporting the former. There was a gay bar in every sector of the city, and if someone thought that wasn’t enough, well they would open another one.
“Connor? Connor Reed?”
I spun around at the intrusion of my thoughts as my name was being shouted out across the bar. Who the fuck would do such a thing? I thought while quickly assessing the person rounding the stools to join me.
“Connor…wow, it’s been a while, man. How are you?”
“You better not be a reporter, and I’m not interested anyway.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot. I am so sorry,” the dude must have just noticed the fact that I was wearing a hat and sunglasses inside the place. “It’s just…I haven’t seen you in forever, but I’d know you if you were dressed in drag.”
“There goes my next idea at disguising myself,” I said to myself, but the guy heard me and started laughing. I just wanted to get him away from me, and that’s when I noticed sexy dark hair make the connection in his head. If I were in the mood for that, he’d be at the top of my list. Instead, I turned back to the guy, lowering my voice. “What can I do for you? Autograph?”
“Nah, I got one already in every yearbook you ever signed.”
It took me a minute to calm my nerves and really look at the guy in front of me. He was a caramel God in leather. His edge-up was fresh, but his hair wasn’t so short that I couldn’t
see how it would curl when it got just a bit longer. Those curls were the bane of my existence in high school and after. So were those eyes; brown, but more like a smooth cognac with bits of fire inside. He was somewhere over six feet, like me and had a voice that could curl my toes. But I wasn’t letting him know he had any effect on my body what-so-ever.
“Parker? Damn, man. It’s been ages.”
“Yes, and I see much hasn’t changed with you. Still taking in alcohol like it’s water? Thought you’d given it up.” Parker shook his head and sat down by way of straddling the bar stool next to me. “But I think I remember that look. This isn’t a normal bender, is it?”
“No. No, it’s not. I haven’t had a drink since we split ten years ago. Got the business running and eventually found someone.”
“Not as good as me, I hope.”
“Nah, never could replace you.” I made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and the thoughts of our last conversation came swimming back to me. The same look of disappointment and hurt was etched all over his face. “Things were good for a while, but he didn’t understand my lifestyle. I don’t think anyone ever will.”
“So, the bottle?” he asked as I poured another as an afterthought.
“He cleared out today while I was at work. Didn’t take much time to do it either. Just cleared out his personal effects and left. Not even so much as an email.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Such is life,” I said with a big grin to hopefully express that I was dealing. I may not be fine for a while, but I’m dealing the best way I know how. “What about you? Married with the house, fence, kids and all?”
“No. I never could find a replacement for you either,” Parker laughed, but it was displaced.
I felt the skin between my brows wrinkle as I looked at him. Parker and I started dating in high school. Being gay meant we were prime targets for any bully in the school, but when you’re gay, and the bully of the school things get very different. That was me and Parker was my kryptonite. A star athlete with a bug up his ass. Little did I know, for two years his bug problem was that he was into me and didn’t want to out himself to his teammates.
“If I recall, you’re the one who left. I assumed I was replaceable by any standard.” I said as I downed my rum in one shot. As my hand connected with the bottle, I felt Parker’s hand cover mine.
“I know, and I remember why. Clearly, you don’t, and you’re not.”
I pulled my hand and the bottle away from him and poured another glass. Just as the glass reached my lips, I set it down. “Parker, I’m not ready to go down memory lane, here. Okay? It’s been nice seeing you, but as we’ve covered this already…you don’t like when I drink. I, on the other hand, love when I drink. It helps me forget everything I’m dealing with, and now, thanks to you there is more I’ll be needing to forget tonight. I don’t need or want anything from you. That ship has sailed. You’re about nine years too late.”
“That’s fair, but since there seems to be a crowd outside setting off flashes, maybe you’d like to get out of here?” He suddenly hissed in my ear.
I turned around on my barstool and discovered he was correct. The fucker probably shouted my name out loud on purpose, hoping this would happen and I would have to leave the bar. My black hat wasn’t exactly enough to hide my face from the photographers, and there was no way I was getting out the front door without stumbling. Looks like I’d be needing something from Parker after all.
“Hey, Dennis!” Parker yelled to the bartender. “Is there a back door my friend can use?” He said pointing to the men trying to see through the tinted windows. With the lights down in the joint and my dark clothes it was unlikely they caught a clear shot of me. If I went out the front, they were sure to get several thousand shots of me stumbling about.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll lead the way.” Sexy-dark-hair said rounding the bar. He led us toward the back of the building through a door past the restrooms. “Sorry, man. I didn’t realize who you were earlier. The tabs on me.”
“That was kinda the point. Inconspicuous until I was recognized. I was hoping to finish that bottle off, too.”
I noticed Parker shake his head beside me and when I stumbled, he was right there to catch me before I face planted into the floor. That’s when I noticed he was still the same Parker, yet maybe a bit thicker in the biceps. His aftershave was still the same, musk and leather. By the looks of his leather jacket, I’d say it was a constant smell.
“Here ya go, fella. And, hey, Connor. Next time you wanna stop by the Tool Box call ahead. We have a nice private room in the back.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that next time I get dumped.” Proverbial diarrhea of the mouth set in as I started cussing out my ex. Though I noticed Dennis didn’t stick around to listen. When the fresh air hit my face, I realized I drank a bit too fast, and my stomach was protesting.
“Oh, no! Not here, man. Hold it in until we get you home.”
“I’m not gonna make it home.”
“Fine, then how about you pull the brim down on that hat a bit more, and we can cross the alley and head over to that gas station. They have a bathroom.”
“Man, all I need… is a dumpster,” I said between burps. Nausea swirled around in my stomach making me feel both, sick and light headed. I was salivating so bad, I had to spit every five steps down the alley.
“I know, but you don’t wanna be headline news tomorrow,” he reminded me.
Sometimes having a life in the spotlight was more of a pain in the ass than it was worth. I could just hear the news anchor having a laugh at my expense in the morning; Fast and Loud owner, Connor Reed seen puking in a dumpster behind the mini-mart.
“No,” I swallowed once more as the rum threatened to empty my stomach, “I don’t.”
We ended up making it to the station in the nick of time. The attendant was just about to close up, but for two simple autographs, he unlocked the door and let me use the restroom. I held it in for so long it only took me a few minutes to expel everything in my stomach and then some. I’d never felt so bad about drinking in my life, except maybe for ten years ago when Parker walked out. At least he had the decency to tell me he was leaving, and not stage a vanishing act.
I didn’t realize how long I’d been in the bathroom, but by the time I got done swishing water around my mouth, Parker had retrieved his car and was waiting out back with the engine running. “Hop in, Connor. I’ll give you a ride home.”
I didn’t feel like arguing, and when you’ve been with someone for so long, the distance and time between visits doesn’t let you forget about them. Things just settle in the background. A distant memory, but still there for you to pull it back out and examine it. I didn’t know why I was doing it, maybe it had something to do with my recent break-up or the fact that I never got any closure with Parker Taylor. But as we rode back to my place, I caught myself remembering all the nuances about him. Like the fact that he’d always get a bug up his ass about coasters on tables and closing the shower curtain after we were done in the bathroom. Then there was how he’d always say he wanted a dog, but never really did. The worst was how no matter what he ate, it went on bread. Damn it, lasagna doesn’t need to be a fucking sandwich, I thought to myself while scowling at him. Who said he could just walk right into my life again after ten fucking years, and help me? Ugh.
I don’t remember giving him my address but as he stopped his car outside of my building, I guessed I had at some point. I turned to thank him, and maybe to apologize for being a total dick, but just as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I blew chunks. It was all over him, the seats, the steering wheel and even made it to the dash and windshield.
“Damn it, Connor,” he moved his hands to whip the wheel then pulled the car around back to the parking garage. “Come on. I’ll help you upstairs.” I watched as he got out of the car after killing the engine. The trunk opened and closed and when he reached my door to open it, he had a big duffel bag over his
shoulder. In his hand was a purple towel he was using to whip the vomit off his face and jacket.
“What’s this, and overnight bag? Hope I didn’t ruin any plans you had. I mean seriously, I don’t need you to babysit me. I think I can find the penthouse on my own. It’s the last one on the top.”
“The penthouse? You really did move up in the world.” He almost looked impressed, but regardless of the amount of alcohol I’d already expelled, I was feeling more drunk than I had been at the bar. I realized that when my head began to spin, and my feet didn’t want to hold my weight. “Come on, big boy. Let’s get you upstairs.”
“Seriously, Parker. You can go. I am so sorry. I doubt this is what you had in mind when you said hi tonight.”
“No, it’s not, but if you think I’m leaving now, you’re crazy. Not only can I not risk you choking and dying on your own vomit in your sleep, but thanks to you I need a shower.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. And yours is closer.”
Chapter 2
Parker
I have no idea what I was thinking. Yelling out to Connor was supposed to make him realize he had to be accountable, but after hearing that it was his first drink, …er…bottle, since we split, I knew what would come next. Trying to get him outta the bar worked about as well as it had in the past. I had to wait until he was almost about to pass out before I could get him to budge. Good thing he’s a hot shot these days and those reporters were just begging for a story.
Chances are that one of the bar patrons had noticed me yell out to him and tipped off the local news. They were always trying to get him in one compromising situation or another. You couldn’t believe half the shit they showed on tv. Besides, I happened to have known Connor better than any raging fan. I knew none of the bullshit on tv was true. Except for the partying. I thought I had it right about that. I was pleasantly surprised to have been wrong. However, had he been used to holding his liquor down he would have made it all the way home and got tucked into bed before the need to up-chuck came about.
Connor's Achilles (Fast and Loud #1) Page 1
