by Eden Finley
“Are we cool?” I ask.
His eyes in the mirror in front of us flick toward the door and then meet mine. “All good. Babe.” Leaning back, he kisses my cheek, and for a moment I’m lost—too busy enjoying being this close with his warm lips on me and his beard scraping my skin—but then I realize there’s someone standing at the door waiting for us to finish whatever we were doing. Or maybe they’re trying to get a scoop.
I step away and beckon her in. “We’re ready to go.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re both oiled up, practically naked, and being ushered out the side of the house. Wooden decking surrounds a tropical pool, with a rock waterfall and bamboo lounger chairs lining the edge.
A small blonde woman with permanent resting bitch face glares at us. “It’s so nice to meet you both. We were hoping to do this on the beach, but you boys are causing a stir, so we’ll use the pool instead.” Maybe she’s had so much Botox her face literally can’t move anymore. Her words are kind, but her face is frozen. “I’m Callie, I’ll be interviewing you while Lars takes photos.”
Lars, a hot nerd type, stands behind a camera and tampers with the settings as he gives us a quick wave with his free hand.
“Hope everything’s okay?” Callie asks. “One of the PAs said you were bickering and you arrived separately.”
Matt glances around, looking for Damon. He’s supposed to step in when questions that are off-limits are brought up. She hasn’t said the interview has started yet, but that doesn’t matter with most journalists. If you don’t say something is off the record, it’s safe to assume anything you say can and will be held against you in magazine land. I don’t suspect she knows we’re faking it; I get the feeling she wants gossip to post all over the internet.
“Hate to disappoint,” I say, “I was late because Matty made me clean up our room. I’m a slob, and he hates that, even if I did try to get out of it by claiming we’re on vacation.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Callie asks.
I laugh and wrap my arm around Matt’s waist. “Not even close. Just usual couple stuff.”
Matt releases a relieved breath, and Callie taps away on her tablet. It won’t be usable. No one wants to hear about couples arguing over dirty laundry on the floor. Dirty laundry in their relationship however …
“Noah, we’ll have you on the far lounger, lying down,” Lars says from behind his camera. “Matt, you can sit on the front one and face Callie while she asks you questions.”
“Ooh, I get the hard job of sunbaking,” I say.
Lars approaches as I lie down, his eyes raking over me. His thick-rimmed glasses slide down his face, bringing my attention to his full lips, and there’s no mistaking the interest shimmering in his eyes. Normally, I’d be all over that, but that would be a very shitty thing for a boyfriend to do. So, instead of winking at him or asking how he wants me, I cock my eyebrow at him.
“Lift your arm and put it behind your head to rest on.” His voice is gruff. I go to raise my arm when he stops me. “Uh, other arm, the one furthest from the camera. Here, I’ll show you.”
I bet he will.
While Lars maneuvers me into the position he wants, Damon comes out to join us, and Callie starts firing off questions. She doesn’t mind going for the gut punch either.
“So, Matt, how does it feel to be retired?”
Matt tenses but lifts his head toward Damon, who gives Matt a small nod. “Not retired yet,” he says easily. I can’t see his face, but I can imagine a forced smile. “I’m a free agent and looking for offers.”
“There’s controversy surrounding your swift exit from the Bulldogs and rumors about them discriminating against you because you’re gay.”
Not all was lost with Damon’s coaching last night. Matt’s now able to bullshit his way through this question and others like it.
“That had nothing to do with it at all. I was put on warning a month before they decided not to renew my contract. Because I had to hide a big part of me, I wasn’t as open or trusting with my teammates as I should have been. The whole team suffered because of it, and there was no one else to blame but myself. The Bulldogs is a family-oriented team, and they all see the players as their family. I never let them in, and in the end, it meant they wanted more of a team player. Now I don’t have to worry about people finding out, I’m ready to be part of a team again, and I won’t make the same mistakes by keeping secrets.”
“But you had some of the best tight end stats last year.”
I’m surprised they’ve even done their football research.
“That’s not everything,” Matt says. “Football is a team sport.”
“And you evidently played for the wrong team.”
I glance at the woman out the corner of my eye. You’d think someone who worked for a pro-LGBTQ magazine would have more … empathy? It feels like she’s trying to get a rise out of Matt.
Matt doesn’t take the bait, though. Maybe there’s hope we can pull this off.
“How do you feel being the first openly gay player in the NFL?” she asks.
“I believe Michael Sam owns that title,” Matt says. I have no idea who Michael Sam is.
“Technically, he was the first drafted,” she corrects. “Until he was cut during preseason.”
Ah, I guess that’s why I don’t know who he is.
“Well, if we’re getting technical, there’s Kopay, Smith, McDonald, Simmons, and a handful others who came out after retiring, and I wasn’t openly gay while playing for the Bulldogs. So, unless I’m signed to a new team, the title is still up for grabs. To answer your question, I don’t think I should feel anything about being an openly gay player. I’m still a player. Gay or straight doesn’t have anything to do with it. I deserve to be on that field as much as any of the other guys. I train hard to be the best. All I want to do is play football.”
Callie taps away on her tablet furiously, and that there will be the title. Matt Jackson Just Wants to Play Football.
Ugh.
“What I do off the field hasn’t interfered with my career yet, and I don’t intend to let it in the future.”
“But it has interfered with your career. You said you never let yourself get close to your teammates, which cost you your contract.”
Matt doesn’t answer for longer than one would consider normal, as if he’s struggling to find the correct answer.
“Can I grab some water?” I complain. “It’s exhausting looking this good.”
My trick has the desired effect. I don’t know where the assistants have run off to, but Camera Boy scurries away to get me a bottle of water while Matt and Callie laugh at me.
“How did you and Noah Huntington meet?” Callie asks Matt.
“My new agent—Damon King at OnTrack Sports—went to college with Noah. I met them both at a party.”
“Thanks for the plug,” Damon says from the sidelines.
“Best agent I’ve had.”
Lars comes back with my water, and I sip it quickly while he gets back behind the camera. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as I swallow the water down. I think someone likes me.
“Was it love at first sight?” Callie asks.
“Yes,” I answer at the same time Matt says, “No.”
Callie loves our answer; her entire face lights up like she just scored a scoop.
“He definitely made me work for it,” I say and force playfulness into my tone. “The first three days, it felt like I was running after him the whole time.”
Matt’s shoulders bounce, and I think he’s trying to hide the fact he’s laughing, because what I said isn’t a lie. All I’ve done since we got on the damn ship is proposition him, only to get shut down.
“What will happen if you get an offer from a team on the West Coast?” Callie asks. “Noah’s in New York, running his father’s campaign.”
Running. Pfft. Whenever I’m in the office, I’m treated like a child. Pretty sure I’m not even allowed to hold a pair of scissors.
Lars cuts in. “Okay, I have enough photos of this concept. Now, Noah, if you could slide onto Matt’s chair, and Matt, you lie back with Noah between your legs.”
Well, now that sounds fun.
“Uh, with his back to your front,” Lars clarifies with a cute blush.
I try to keep from salivating as Matt spreads his legs enough for me to slide in. His cock twitches and digs into my back as I try to get comfortable on top of him. His hand goes to my hip, and suddenly I wish I was the one in Matt’s position, because he can hide his hard-on.
Callie’s phone starts ringing, and she excuses herself for a moment.
“Told you to jerk it,” I say quietly out the side of my mouth. I shift my weight, my back rubbing against him, and he lets out a tiny groan.
“I fucking hate you,” he whispers in my ear.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Matt,” Lars says, “Put your head back and close your eyes. Noah, shuffle down so you’re using Matt’s chest as a pillow and turn your head toward me.”
Matt’s grip on me hardens to the point of pain as I slide down him. If I hadn’t already messed up today by running my mouth, he would hear endless teasing about being unable to say he doesn’t want me. He’s so hard I’m pretty sure if I wiggled enough, I could make him come.
My cock goes from a semi to an iron spike at the thought of Matt losing it and coming all over me.
Lars clears his throat, and I stare down at my cock which is trying to break free. Won’t have to work hard for it in these trunks.
In true Noah fashion, I don’t let it faze me. “Sorry. We’re still in the honeymoon phase. All I have to do is get near Matt.” Totally not lying. I reach down and try to adjust myself. Unsuccessfully.
“No problem,” Lars says. “I’ll, uh, take photos from the torso up.”
“Good idea. I’m guessing you’re not allowed to give us privacy for a few minutes.” I’m an evil bastard because I love that I’m making the photographer uncomfortable.
His face turns redder than a tomato, and he glances around to make sure no one can hear when he says, “I could get everyone else to leave …”
The image of me and Matt getting off in front of the hot nerdy guy is way too much overstimulation for my little brain, but then I picture Lars watching Matt, and I’m not liking that idea just as fast. I go to open my mouth to shut him down, but Damon knows me too well and thinks I’m about to encourage the photographer’s behavior.
“Noah, behave,” Damon orders.
“Wasn’t going to say anything other than no one gets to see Matt naked except me.” The sincerity in my words is involuntary, but it entertains Damon all the same. I swear he’s two seconds away from making teasing kissy faces like a twelve-year-old girl.
Matt sighs behind me, and I’m starting to think he might be getting used to my antics.
“Where’s your better half?” I ask Damon.
“He’s gone to check out the island with Stacy and Jared.”
“What did I miss?” Callie asks, rejoining us.
“Nothing,” Lars says quickly, his face still red. And yep, still love that I rattled him. It’s an ego boost. Although, arguably, others would say my ego doesn’t need to get any bigger, but it feels good after being rejected by Matt these last few days. I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. He claims he doesn’t hate me—that he’s stressed—but he refuses to fool around even though I turn him on. I don’t think I’ve met anyone harder to figure out.
When Callie gets back into interview mode, Matt’s cock deflates pretty fast when she asks about his family.
“That’s not on the approved list of discussion points,” Damon says. “Try again.”
Callie huffs. “Okay, who would you say is your biggest supporter?” She’s working for her paycheck, that’s for sure.
“That would be me. Duh,” I say.
“And what about your family, Noah? Are they happy to see you in love with the bad boy of football?”
Hell no. “Honestly, Matt and I are still pretty new, and there hasn’t been a gap in my father’s schedule for them to meet yet, but it will happen eventually. They’ll love Matt because I love Matt. My parents have always maintained they only want me to be happy.” You know, so long as it’s on their terms.
Damon gives an approving nod, happy with my answer, but it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. As always, I’ve acted before I’ve thought my actions through. Matt is dealing with enough without having to put up with my father’s shit too. I’m supposedly here doing Matt a favor, and even if he doesn’t realize it, tying his life to mine in any capacity is a good way to get screwed. It’s why I haven’t had a proper relationship since freshman year of college. Learning my boyfriend was paid off by my parents to break up with me because he wasn’t the right image for my dad is the one lesson I will carry with me always. Everyone has a price, and everyone wants something from me.
My dad wants me to be the golden child with the impeccable political career ahead of me.
Hookups have wanted either my money or my connections.
Aron wanted my love—something I don’t give to anyone. Granted, I’m the asshole in that situation, but it’s still more people asking things of me I can’t give.
If I give pieces of me to people who come and go into my life, I’ll be left bare and exposed with nothing left of me except bitterness and money I didn’t earn.
“Noah?” Matt asks, and I snap out of my trance.
“Huh?”
“You can sit up now. Side by side,” Lars says.
“Oh.” I sit up and run a hand over my closely shaved head.
Callie fires more questions off at Matt, and he answers them like a pro. I’m too busy wondering if this whole thing is a mistake. My mind goes to the paparazzi waiting for us outside and the ones back on the docks at home. Not to mention the ones at Matt’s hotel.
“Damon, can I have a word?” I ask.
He stares between Matt and Callie and hesitates.
“I’m about done with the questions anyway,” Callie says. “Lars will want some shots of Matt alone, so they can get started on that.”
I go to stand, but Matt pulls me back down. “What’s up?” he asks. His eyes hold fear and suspicion.
“Nothing. It’s all good. I just have an idea.”
His eyes widen. “That doesn’t reassure me any.”
I wrap my arm around his neck and bring him in close. My lips find the side of his head. “If you’re super nice, I’ll tell you later.”
When I get up and walk away, he’s smiling at me. That’s better than being pissed.
Damon follows me into the spare room and closes the door behind us for privacy.
“You okay?” Damon asks.
“Yeah, but I want something.”
“Uh-oh.”
I slump. “I may not act like it, but my brain works … sometimes. So, this is our only thing on the schedule while we’re on this cruise, right? No other commitments other than to get to know each other?”
“Right.”
“Matt’s never going to relax when he knows if he steps off that ship, the cameras will be there, and when he’s onboard, people are snapping photos of him with their cellphones.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I have a private plane. I’m taking Matt back to New York tonight. The paparazzi think he’s away for four more days. That’s four days where he can be a normal human.”
Damon shakes his head. “Boat security. They’ll know if you guys leave the boat and don’t get back on. All they need is one person to talk.”
“Can we give you guys our keycards? Tell the ship crew that Maddox O’Shay and Damon King are leaving the cruise early and then use our room instead of yours. All we have to
do is somehow sneak away from the ship without the photographers following.”
He rubs his cheek. “If it’s what Matt wants to do, we’ll make it work.”
“Trust me. He’ll jump at the chance to have separate beds.”
Damon cocks his eyebrow. “I feel like there’s a story there, but I’m not sure I want to know it.”
“You’re probably right about that.”
He gives me a nod. “Call your jet.”
Chapter Seven
Matt
“That was more exhausting than a day of sled drills,” I say when we get back to the cabin.
“Yeah, I don’t know what they are,” Noah says, “but I feel way too much like a stripper with all this oily shit on me.”
I can’t help laughing, because he’s right. My skin is gritty, slippery, and smells like coconut. I reckon it’ll take industrial strength soap to get it off. “I would make a joke about being lubed up, but you’ll probably take it as an opening.”
Noah does a double take. “First of all, I can’t believe you’d say lube and opening in the same sentence and expect me not to react, and second, I think I like joking Matt.”
I try to hide my smile. I don’t know what changed during that interview, but with the way he intercepted questions and answered how we wanted him to last night while we were practicing, part of the wall I built when I met Noah to keep our professional distance crumbled, and I’m beginning to see him in a new light.
His arrogant act isn’t who he really is. He uses his wiseass attitude to piss people off and get what he wants, but underneath all that, he’s not so selfish.
He sat there today and made sure I stayed calm. Well, when he wasn’t rubbing against me and getting me hard, anyway. But even that worked as a distraction from the frustrating situation. He didn’t need to do that. It’s his job to make this look real, not coddle me.
I go to say thank you for what he did today, but he cuts me off.
“I’m gonna grab a shower while you pack,” he says. He turns on his heel and heads toward the bathroom, and I can’t drag my eyes away from his ass—the ass that looked amazing in his tiny Speedo.
