“It was good,” I said with another lift of my shoulders. “I doubt it’ll get much airtime — cheer gets the short end of the stick in women’s sports, as we all know. But I’m glad I did it. They asked about our pay, too, and you both know I have plenty to say about that.”
Marcus whistled. “Careful. Claire will have your ass if you said anything even remotely negative.”
“It wasn’t negative. It was true,” I defended. “And if she, or anyone else in the organization, is embarrassed by what they pay us? Well, they should be — and that’s on them for choosing to do so, not on me for choosing to be honest when asked about it.”
Darcy tilted her wine glass toward me. “You are such a badass. I hope to be half as fearless as you one day.”
“And I hope to be even a tenth as sweet as you.”
We cheersed, tilting the glasses to our lips.
“Speaking of being fearless… any update onBoss?” Darcy pried with a smirk.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I hedged, but it was with a wicked grin of my own.
“Oh, please. Darc and I are not naiïve enough to think you left that man alone — contract or no contract.”
“And what makes you so sure?” I defended.
“It sure as hell didn’t stop me.”
Darcy and I laughed at that. “Okay well you first, then,” I said. “Tell us who he is.”
Marcus’s mouth slanted, and he sat back into the couch with a long sigh. “I would, but this is about more than just a silly no fraternization clause. I don’t want to lose my position on the squad, but truth be told… I would. For him.”
Darcy melted into a ball of goop. “Oh my gosh, that is so romantic.”
“If you like a tortured sort of romance, I suppose,” Marcus said, tracing the rim of his glass. “It’s so much more complicated than just being together for us. There’s the contract, sure. I’d probably lose my spot. He’d likely just get a slap on the wrist. But… we’re talking about a pro football player admitting to the entire world that he’s gay. That’s a big—”
He cut himself off, like even saying it out loud felt heavier than he expected.
“Thing,” Darcy finished softly.
Marcus nodded, eyes dropping to his drink. “Yeah. A big thing.”
Silence settled over us for a beat, and I reached for his hand, squeezing it to let him know we were there.
“It shouldn’t be,” he added quietly. “But it is.”
It killed me, watching the way his shoulders had tightened, like he was bracing for an inevitable car crash.
“Football is not exactly the most forgiving environment,” he said, huffing a sad laugh. “Not when it comes to stuff like this. I mean… I dance on the sidelines every Sunday in front of thousands of people, and somehow, I’m still treated like I exist adjacent to the game, not inside it. I’m visible, sure. The League can point to me when they want to talk about inclusion. But in the locker room? In the culture? It’s still very much one way of being. One kind of man. And anything outside of that gets… handled.”
Darcy’s grip on his arm tightened.
“Sure, we can call it a win that they made me the first openly gay cheerleader in the calendar,” he went on. “The League can put out all the statements it wants, teams can run their campaigns, fans can wave rainbow flags in solidarity, but when it comes down to it?” He glanced between us, a raw vulnerability in his eyes. “You’re still the first. Or the only. Or even if you’re neither of those things, you’re a headline.” Darcy hopped up from where she’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor and took up the seat next to Marcus, threading her arm through his and laying her head on his shoulder.
“It would change everything for him,” Marcus went on. “How his teammates look at him. Whether they trust him in the locker room. What jokes get said when he’s not around. What sponsors decide he’s suddenly too risky. What fans decide he doesn’t belong anymore.”
My chest tightened. “Fuck them. Fuck anyone who feels that way.”
“It’s easy to say that when it’s not you in the crossfire.”
I nodded, understanding even though I hated it.
“So yeah,” Marcus said, squeezing my hand and leaning his head against Darcy’s. “It’s more than just sneaking around and hoping we don’t get caught. It’s… deciding if we’re ready to blow up both of our lives just to be honest about it.”
“That’s not a small thing,” Darcy said softly.
