I scroll through my texts, bracing for disaster…but every single one is supportive. Teammates texting things like,Can’t wait to meet your guy! You’re a king! If anyone fucks with you, they will go through me!I can’t help but smile. All the messages are extremely nice and supportive. Even the PR team’s message is neutral and professional, stating,The Hawks organization is here to support you in any way you need. Please reach out anytime.
Then there’s a long, emotional text from my mom, telling me how proud she is and how much she loves me. I even have a message from Nate’s sister, which surprises me in the best way. Rachel’s message tells me to call her sometime and talk about how I feel. I laugh to myself, knowing that she is a therapist, not just Nate’s chaotic sister.
Roman and Spencer both sent a message, too, with full support.
I set my phone down, feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way, and lean over to kiss Nate on the cheek. The moment my lips touch his skin, his eyes slowly open, and he smiles at me sleepily.
“Hey, sexy,” he mutters.
I smirk. “Everyone knows.”
He sits up quickly, grabbing his phone to check his own messages. A few texts from his family pop up, then he opens Instagram and sees some articles. One headline makes him pause:
“Is this Carter Elliott’s Gay Awakening? Who is the Mysterious Man Kissing the Hawks' Star Running Back?”
I raise my eyebrows dramatically. “Mysterious man? Should we tell the media you’re a famous pop star about to explode onto the scene?”
Nate grins. “I love staying hidden. So…How ‘bout not. I’ll be your secret mistress.”
I laugh, but then I notice his smile fading as he keeps scrolling. He finally puts his phone down and says, “Promise me one thing: that you don’t go on social media.”
“I never do,” I say. “I’m sure for every sweet message, there’s at least one asshole trying to boycott me or petition me off the Hawks.”
Nate hesitates. “Do you want the honest truth?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. I know where you’re going with this.”
I don’t need to see negative comments. Right now, I want to sit and think of all the love I’m getting. Everyone who matters has been amazing. The articles I’ve come across so far are full of praise, but I’ve definitely seen a few comments threatening to boycott the Hawks if they don’t drop me. Ridiculous, but not surprising.
Still, I feel freer than I ever have. I’m excited to see how everything plays out. Nervous too, but mostly excited.
A little later, I get dressed and walk into the kitchen where Nate, Christina, and Evan are eating breakfast.
“Well,” I say, grabbing my keys, “I’ve gotta head out and talk with my team's general manager. I’ll be back in a few hours. I assume you two won’t still be here?”
Christina shakes her head, “Nope, our train back to Philly is in an hour.”
“I didn’t know you were talking to the GM,” Nate says, frowning a little.
“I didn’t say anything because I’m nervous about what he’ll say.”
“You’ll be fine,” Evan says confidently. “The NFL’s pretty progressive now. Also, you’re not the first person to come out, so I doubt they hire you to be the NFL’s new gay icon.”
Christina snorts. “Lol.”
I lean over and kiss Nate on the cheek. “Wish me luck.”
“Always,” he says, his eyes soft.
I step out the door, heart pounding, but hopeful.
I make it to the stadium a little after one and head straight toward the general manager’s office. As I walk through the hallway, I pass a woman I’ve seen before with the Hawks Public Relations Department. She grabs my hand gently, stopping me for a second.
“We’ve got everything under control,” she says, looking me right in the eye. “You’re great, and we have your back. Let us handle everything. Okay?”
I offer her a small, grateful smile, tight but sincere. It’s comforting to know that at least she and her team have my back.
By 1:30, I walk into Carlos Hernandez’s office and immediately notice Coach McCormick sitting there. He looks up and says, “Carter, come in. I was just about to leave. I'm just catching up with Carlos, nothing major.”
