by Layla Reyne
Those pictures wouldn’t mean a damn thing if Dane hadn’t been living a lie his entire life. And getting away with it. “But you’re not the one getting punished, are you, Ellis? It’s never you who pays for your actions. First Mo, now me.”
“They made threats, so I promised to stay in line, to stay away from you.”
“And you believed them?” If he weren’t so angry, Alex’s cold, bitter laugh would have broken into a sob. Instead, he choked it off in a hoarse growl. “You fucking turned your back on me, again. I thought this time would be different. But it’s not, is it? Ten years later, and it’s the same shit, just a different day. Except this time, it’s not only my heart that’s ruined. My career’s shot too.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need your fucking protection.” He yanked up the handle of his suitcase, wrapped his duffle around it, and started for the door.
Dane scurried between him and the door, blocking his path. “Let me talk to them again.”
“And do what? Admit the truth to them, to the team, to yourself? Or are you going to keep hiding, making more excuses and striking more deals they’ll never keep?”
“They control everything.”
“Including my future, which they just ruined.”
Jacob approached, a cautious hand raised and slowly coming down on his shoulder, giving Alex enough warning so as not to be taken by surprise. “We’ll find a way to prove the tests were false.”
Ryan leaned against the AC unit under the window. “You don’t know how this works, Pup.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jacob looked to each of them, big green eyes confused and beseeching, landing last on Bas.
“It’s too late,” Bas answered. “Alex can get retested, but by the time the Committee rules, the Games will probably be over.”
“Probably,” Jacob urged.
The kid’s dogged determination on his behalf was the only bright spot in this mess. Alex hated to dash his hopes, but he’d been around USOC all his life. He’d seen enough doping scandals to know how this rolled.
“I’m sorry, Jacob,” he said. “Without evidence I didn’t dope in the first place, it’s not likely to go my way in time.”
“Of course you didn’t dope.”
“He can’t prove that, without proof the test was rigged,” Ryan explained.
“What about innocent until proven guilty?”
Bas threw an arm over Jacob’s shoulders. “You’re naive, Pup, but not that naive. You know that’s not the way it works in competitive sports.”
Jacob shrugged him off, bottom lip between his crooked teeth. “I’m not naive. Just hopeful.”
“Stay that way,” Alex said, grabbing his suitcase handle again. “It’ll help hold this team together. I’m headed home.”
Bas yanked him into a hug, slapping his back. “We will clear your name, if nothing else.”
Alex coughed, failing to dislodge the lump that made his words come out hoarse and scratchy. “Come home with the gold. That’s all that matters now. And I’m sorry for being so stupid and making that harder on you. Of all people, I knew better. I’ve been a shitty captain.”
“You aren’t stupid or a shitty captain,” Dane said, close behind him. “And the gold isn’t all that matters.”
Alex half turned, eyes on the man who’d crushed his heart, twice, and now his career too. “Oh, but I was, because I forgot it’s your image that matters most to you and your family. Pleasing your parents and sponsors, being the Dane Ellis they want you to be. I was in the way of all that. Are you happy now? I’m out of the way. You can go back to living your lie.”
“I never wanted this, Alejandro.” He raised a hand, as if to cup his cheek.
Alex batted it away. “You never wanted me either. Not enough.”
The door slammed closed behind Alex, and three pairs of eyes swung to Dane.
Angry, accusing, hurt.
He deserved all of their judgment. And none of it was as harsh as what he was aiming at himself.
A useless apology was on the tip of his tongue when a fist banged at the door. Dane charged across the room, hoping that Alex had come back, and nearly pulled the door off its hinges to reach him. His gaze landed on Kevin instead.
Hope died where he stood.
“Coach wants you back in the pool,” Kevin said. “Now.” Pale, wide-eyed, and bouncing on the balls of his feet, Kevin was the picture of frightened impatience. Dane guessed Coach hadn’t been so diplomatic in handing down that order.
Ryan pushed off the windowsill, headed for the door. “Wait,” Dane said to him, then to Kevin, “Give us a minute.”
“Coach said now.”
“A minute,” he bit out, harsher than intended. “Please,” he added, softening the demand.
Kevin hesitated, but after a second, leaned against the opposite wall, waiting.
Dane let the door close and turned back to Bas, Jacob, and Ryan. Not a one of their expressions had softened either. I’m sorry wasn’t going to cut it. “I’ll fix this,” he said instead. He had no idea how yet, but he would.
He had to.
Bas pushed past him, shouldering him hard. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Could Dane blame his skepticism? Or Ryan’s, who followed him out the door without a glance? Jacob, however, stopped at his side. “Let me know if I can help,” he said softly.
“You believe me?”
He tilted his head, smiling shyly. “I see the way you look at him.”
Dane’s heart leapt into his throat. “Is it that obvious?”
“No,” Jacob said. “I just see . . . more.”
“What’s your story, Pup?”
Jacob ran a hand over his shaved head; the blond mop was growing back fast. It was only a matter of days before awkward Chia Pet tufts would necessitate another buzz cut or styling gel. “I’ve spent most of my life on guard,” he said quietly.
All thoughts of Chia Pets fled. As quickly as Dane’s heart had risen, it sank at the notion anyone had ever raised a hand to someone so gentle. “Jacob . . .”
He shook his head. “It’s not what you think. I’m just more used to seeing beneath the surly than others.”
“That why you sat next to me on that top bleacher?”
“No one should be alone.” This kid was far older than his nineteen years. Not naive, just hopeful, and willing to see more in people.
Dane pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”
“Fix it, like you said.” Jacob drew back, smiling. “That’ll be thanks enough.”
Fix it.
Dane pondered how all through morning and afternoon practice, and his distraction showed. As did the rest of the team’s. They were off their marks, slow, none of them eager to be in the pool without their captain. Dane least of all.
He called his parents as soon as he got out of the pool and back to his room. He wanted to know exactly what the heck was going on. No answer.
Next, he dialed Mo.
“Get on a fucking plane to Colorado,” his mentor interrupted halfway through Dane’s catch-up.
“You gonna let me finish?”
“At the risk of breaking my leg again by kicking something out of frustration at your goddamn stupidity, yes, carry on with your come-to-Jesus moment.”
“My what?”
Mo growled. “Keep going.”
Dane laid the rest out for him, and when he finally reached the end, Mo lit into him.
“You have the fucking skills to fix this, Ellis. And if you don’t get on a fucking plane by the fucking morning, I’m never fucking speaking to you again.”
Dane didn’t think he’d ever heard Mo curse that much. But he was hung up on a different word than the f-one. “Skills?” he asked.
“You’re a hacker. You have the skills with a computer to fix this. Do it.”
Mo hung up, and Dane stared down at the phone in his hand, taken aback by the gift Mo had just given him.
/> His skills.
The same skills he’d used to protect his memories of that special summer a decade ago. Skills that could save Alex’s summer now. Could save Alex’s dreams, and maybe also make his own possible.
Dane shot out of his seat, a plan forming, but how the heck was he going to get out of here? Coach had them on lockdown, strict curfew with bed checks and all, in order to keep news of Alex’s suspension from leaking. Was he really going to let that stop him? From going after Alex, after the man he loved?
“The man I love,” Dane said aloud, getting used to the words. Practicing for what was about to come. Because he needed to go to Colorado—to tell Alex the truth and to fix this—and he needed help to make that happen. Texting Jacob, he asked him to corral the rest of the team and bring them to his room in an hour.
That done, he rang Roger.
“Dane,” his publicist answered on the second ring. “How are you?”
“It’s been a tough couple days,” he admitted.
“I thought as much. You didn’t seem yourself last night.”
Dane slumped on the end of the bed, phone to his ear. Was he really going to do this? Make the irrevocable step forward.
Out.
Glancing up, his gaze snagged on the open laptop on the desk, pictures of him and Alex from the Knights folder displayed on-screen. That was his real self. That’s who he wanted to be. And he needed Roger’s help getting there, if he was going to make this work for him and against his parents. Leverage. He just hoped and prayed Roger was on his side.
“I haven’t been myself in a long time. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
An hour later, he had a new PR plan. And access to a private jet that would take him to and from Colorado.
Five minutes after that, there was a knock on his door. Bas, who hadn’t said a word to him beyond what was necessary at practice, was the first through the door, followed by Jacob, then Ryan, who was worn out after practicing in Alex’s relay spot that afternoon. The rest of the guys showed shortly thereafter, all of them piling into his single room.
He dialed Mo as they settled. “Wanted you to hear this,” he told his mentor.
For all the years Mo had never tried to set him up with girls, had run interference with other teammates who had, and had never once hesitated to take him to task and tell him the truth, and most of all for the spot on the relay team Dane had cost him, he deserved to be a part of this.
“Get on with it, then.”
Dane pushed off the dresser, moving to stand in the middle of the room. “There’s something I need to tell y’all.” The conjunction came naturally, part of being honest, but it felt odd rolling off his tongue. He’d been trained out of saying it as a kid, but this was who he really was, and if he’d learned anything from his mother, it was not to do anything halfway. Except this wasn’t a sale. This was his life, his future, and more importantly, the life and future of the man he loved.
“You were saying,” Ryan prompted from where he was leaning against the door.
“Right, something I’ve only just started saying aloud. Some of you may suspect.” He eyed Jacob on the end of the bed. “Some of you may know.” He glanced at Bas, who’d taken up the AC windowsill spot. “But I need to say it, to you. And there’s someone else I should have said it to first, but I can’t do that, so I’m doing this for him.”
“Spit it out, Ellis,” Mo grumbled from the speaker, and Bas’s lips twitched.
Out with it then. “I’m gay.”
Ryan’s eyes grew wide, maybe not expecting him to actually say it, but his shock gave way to a smile, as a smattering of whispers spread across the room.
“Keep going,” Bas said, the twitching corner of his mouth hitching higher. He’d known, and it seemed he was happy about it, or at least happy Dane was admitting it, which was the confidence boost he needed to say the rest.
“I’m gay, and I’ve been in love with Alex Cantu since we were sixteen.”
More than mere whispers greeted that announcement. Gasps, whistles, and a few What the fucks.
“So what, you’re gay for Alex?” Kevin said.
Bas shot him a murderous glare. “That’s not how it works.”
Kevin lifted his hands, placating. “Hey, you and Alex are my frame of reference, and you were both out when I met you. I don’t know how this works; that’s why I’m asking.”
“He’s attracted to men, though probably none of you fools,” Bas replied, adopting Coach’s favorite word.
Dane chuckled, improbably. “Bas is right. I’m attracted to men, generally, though Alex is the only one I’ve ever been in love with. We went to training camp together,” he explained. “We were roommates . . . and more.”
“Is that why Alex was kicked off the team?” Sean asked.
“If I was there, I’d hit you,” Mo shouted from the phone. “Coach and the Committee don’t care.”
“Well, we all know he wasn’t doping,” Sean replied.
“How do we know that?” Mike said.
“He checks our lockers every night for drugs,” Jacob chimed in.
“Maybe he was replenishing his supply,” Mike countered.
Dane shook his head. “He stopped me from smoking up Saturday, after the press conference, and he sure as hell didn’t keep any for himself.”
“He wouldn’t jeopardize his team’s chances,” Bas said. “He already felt guilty enough about losing Mo. He wasn’t doping. He didn’t need to. We were already under record time in practice.”
“And he’s terrified of needles, isn’t he?” Dane asked. “That’s why he’s never gotten a team tattoo.”
“Scared to death of ’em,” Bas confirmed. “Dreads every blood draw.”
“So what gives?” Sean said, looking back and forth between them.
Dane shrugged. “Me. I’m the reason he was suspended. My parents found out about us.”
“From when you were kids?” Kevin asked. “Because until this past weekend, you two hated each other as adults.”
“After the press conference, Alex called a truce. We went out together, to a club, to drink and dance and blow off some steam. My parents had someone tail us, taking pictures.”
“Of you dancing?”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Ryan pushed off the door. “I’m guessing you did more than dancing?”
Dane nodded. “My parents are worried. About my image, sponsorships, and their image. They don’t approve.”
“You’re twenty-six,” Kevin said.
“I’ve never acted like my own man before. I didn’t give them a reason to think I would now. They made threats, including against Alex, so I backed down. They carried through with them anyways.”
“Your parents have the juice to do that?” Ryan asked.
“Unfortunately.” He cut his eyes to his computer and back, smiling. “But I’ve got some juice too. Thing is, I need you to cover for me.”
Bas moved from his perch, stopping right in front of him. “Cover for you?”
“While I’m gone tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?”
“Colorado Springs.”
Bas’s stare was hard, assessing. “To get Alex?”
He answered with all the love-fueled confidence he felt, amazed at what that kind of juice could do. “To get Alex, and to help clear him.”
Bas’s serious face transformed into a huge smile. He lifted a hand between them, palm open for a clasp. Dane slapped a hand in his and Bas yanked him forward, into a backslapping bro hug.
“Aww yeah,” Ryan drawled, piling on.
Jacob practically jumped from the end of the bed, joining the group hug. “Whatever you need, man.”
“Thanks, Pup.”
Bas pulled back, hand still clutched in his. “Bring our boy back, Ellis.”
“My boy,” Dane said with a smirk.
Bas laughed. “Yeah, he’s yours.”
Dane breathed easy—free—for maybe the first time in his lif
e.
Kitchen table and counters cleaned, Alex slung the dish towel over his shoulder, leaned against the cool stainless steel fridge, and closed his eyes, the past twelve hours finally catching up to him. Weary from a restless night and a dream destroyed, he almost dozed, lulled by his dad’s snores from the adjacent family room, but on the edge of standing sleep, Dane’s face came to mind, followed by those damning test results, and rest slipped from his grasp.
Getting home late yesterday, he’d thought half a bottle of tequila would do the trick, but then he’d spent the dark hours of the morning puking it back up, stomach soured on alcohol and despair. At sunrise, he’d crawled off the bathroom floor, forced down two pieces of toast and a bottle of water, and driven out to the farm, hoping a hard morning’s work would knock him out and blank his mind. But it wasn’t enough, nor were the hours spent in the kitchen, preparing his family’s lunch, then cleaning the kitchen top to bottom after. Alex continued to walk the zombie edge, a dark cloud looming over him.
In forty-eight hours, he’d gone from having everything he wanted within reach—an unbeatable team, multiple gold medals, and Dane—to grasping at empty air, all hope of medals, his career, and Dane gone. Not only had he been suspended from the team, he’d probably also lose his job at USOC, maybe his side coaching gigs, maybe also his teaching position. And lost jobs meant lost money. No bigger apartment with a second bedroom for Carla, no funds to contribute to the farm, no rainy-day savings, and no way out for himself.
All gone because of something he’d never even consider doing. He’d made it clear to his teammates that drugs of any sort—performance, recreational, or otherwise—were strictly off-limits. And now he was being punished for using a banned substance. Only the banned substance that had gotten him into trouble wasn’t drugs; it was Dane Ellis.
He’d foolishly hoped for a second chance with a man he could never have, a man who would never own up to himself or his feelings, his parents and his image always standing in the way.
Outside of what it’d cost Alex, his stupidity had also cost the team two medley relay swimmers. First Mo, taken out in the crossfire, and now himself. Dane and Ryan were excellent swimmers, but after two weeks of drama and shifting lineups, Alex wasn’t sure they could bring home the gold that had eluded the team four years ago. If they fell short of gold again, it’d be because Alex had been weak and had forgotten to act like the captain his team needed. He’d set his responsibilities aside instead, his dick and heart overruling his head. What bothered Alex most, though, was the shred of sympathy he still felt for Dane. Dane had loosened up at the club. He’d had fun and been free, and maybe even a little in love, if his words could be believed. It hurt Alex deep to know that Dane—his Dane—was doomed to the poster boy’s cage, unless he made a different choice, unless he accepted himself and stood up to his parents once and for all. He’d tried, they’d hit back, and he’d caved. Alex couldn’t hold fear of coming out against him—only Dane would know when he was ready for that—but he could hold letting others take the fall against him. He’d flown back to his gilded cage, and Alex had paid the steep price for his flight out.
