Matt exhaled, and he nodded. “Okay. Yeah, I did.” Silence settled in the space between them as Matt stepped a little closer, just enough that his words wouldn’t carry. “But I’m not going to say anything. Your secret is safe.”
Evan believed him immediately. CJ could see it in the way his shoulders dropped half an inch. Because Matt was the guy you gave the spare key to your apartment, or trusted with your sister. But something shifted inside CJ anyway.
Matt ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t care that you’re together. It actually makes complete sense. But you’re gonna be drafted,” Matt said like there was no question. “Scouts are here every weekend watching you two.”
Evan and CJ exchanged a glance.
He pinned them with sharp eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your relationship, but I can’t tell you it won’t matter. We all know better.” Matt gestured to the field around them. “They’re watching everything about you, and front offices don’t like things they can’t control. Do you understand?”
Evan nodded. “Yeah, we get it.”
“You’ve both worked so hard for this,” Matt added quietly. “If this gets out the wrong way, it stops being about your stats and starts being about…this.” Matt motioned between them. “Once that happens, you don’t get to control it.”
Evan exhaled through his nose and crossed his arms. “You want us to hide?”
Matt shook his head. “I want you to be smart. There’s a difference.” He nodded toward the bleachers. “The field, guys? Really? Not smart. There are cameras, there’s campus security, and random insomniac teammates apparently.”
That earned the faintest twitch at the corner of Evan’s mouth.
Matt continued, his voice softer now. “If you want this, that’s your business. I’m not trying to scare you out of it, and I hope by now you know I’ve got your back. I just… I’d hate to see your draft stock tank if someone catches you on the wrong side of a rumor.”
CJ’s shoulders tightened until they felt like they might crack. He still hadn’t spoken, and he could see Evan looking at him from the corner of his eye. Every word Matt said hooked into CJ’s ribs, and he started to feel like he was being flayed apart.
Evan’s voice was steady. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying be more careful.”
“And you’re not gonna say anything?” CJ asked sharply.
“No. Jesus. No.” Matt looked offended. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, but especially not to you guys.” He sighed. “I’m gonna pretend that I saw absolutely nothing on the most uneventful midnight walk I’ve ever taken.”
He turned and walked away, his footsteps loud enough that CJ wondered how they hadn’t heard him approaching. Next to him, Evan shifted, then reached for him. CJ stepped away, and Evan’s hand hovered for a moment before falling with a slap to his thigh.
“CJ,” Evan whispered.
“Don’t.” CJ’s voice was sharp before he inhaled slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Just…don’t.”
CJ pretended he didn’t see the wounded look on Evan’s face when he walked away.
Evan was alreadyin the dining hall when CJ made it to breakfast, sitting with two of their teammates. His hair was still damp from a shower and he was wearing a sweatshirt with the school logo that made him look like any other guy on campus. But he wasn’t. CJ didn’t know things about any other guy the way he knew Evan. He watched him for a moment, cataloging the slope of Evan’s shoulders, the familiar bend of his neck and the way his hair curled at the nape because it had been too long since he’d gotten it cut. He knew Evan’s body better than his own some days. He knew the scar under Evan’s left shoulder blade from catching a cleat during a bad slide sophomore year. He knew the exact spot at the corner of his mouth where Evan smiled when he was trying not to.
They’d been together for almost three years, but nobody called it that.
Nobody called it anything because nobody could ever know.
Evan spotted him from across the dining hall and his face split into a grin. Not the polite one he used with professors and coaches, but the one that belonged just to CJ. It hit him square in the chest, but he forced his feet to keep moving, weaving through the tables and sidestepping backpacks in his way. As he approached, their teammates were just pushing back from the table, still arguing about something that had happened in their last game.
“I’m telling you, you should’ve sent it to the parking lot,” one of them said.
“It was two inches outside.” Evan shrugged unapologetically. “I don’t chase junk. I wait for something worth it. Now go away so I can finish my breakfast with someone who doesn’t piss me off.”
CJ gave a short nod to both guys as they grabbed their trays and headed toward the exit. Evan kicked out the chair across from him with his foot, and CJ dropped into it.
“You look like you didn’t sleep at all,” Evan said. There were two mugs of coffee in front of him. One had been doctored with so much creamer it was almost white, and one was black and untouched, and that’s the one he slid toward CJ.
“I slept.” He wrapped both hands around the cup and let the warmth seep into his hands.
Evan raised one eyebrow and rolled his eyes, then launched into a story about his communications professor before CJ could respond. CJ fought to focus, but his laugh came a second too late, and he kept his gaze on Evan’s hands because he couldn’t look him in the eyes.
