Page 15 of Challenge Me

Trav cleared his throat. “Well, I’m surprised your phone hasn’t been blowing up.”

I pulled it away from my ear and glanced at the screen. Twelve missed calls since I’d gone outside. Twice as many texts. My stomach did a somersault as I read through what Shawn said.

“Fuck.”

“Swear!” Mal shouted from the other room.

Absently, I grabbed a five from my wallet and dropped it into the swear jar. She’d count it later to make sure, and she never forgot what I owed.

Dropping my elbows to the counter, I covered my mouth while the information caught up to me. It was impossible.

“I can get on a plane,” Trav offered.

“No,” I said immediately. “That might make it worse.”

“How?”

“Everyone’s eyes are on you right now, ever since the World Series.”

“It could start rumors,” Roman agreed.

I heard the front door open, and I didn’t have to check to know who it was. My eyes closed as my grip tightened on the phone.

“Hey, guys, I have to go.”

“Check in with me,” Trav said. “If you need me, I’m there. When have I ever cared about bad press?”

“Thanks, McKinney.”

I ended the call and let the phone drop to the counter. The presence in the room was heavy, and when I turned, the weight of my monumental fuck-up struck me like a freight train.

“Avery,” I sighed. “You might as well take off your shoes. I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.”

*****

Avery wouldn’t meet my eyes, even after we’d been sitting for ten minutes. Since I hadn’t thought of the right words, I went through the messages I’d missed. My manager, friends, teammates. I wasn’t sure how one of the news stations had gotten my number, but I blocked it immediately. Unless our PR team directed me to do something, I wouldn’t talk to anyone.

Except Avery. I owed her that and more.

I followed the link to the article that had dropped this morning. Front and center, there was a picture that made my insides curdle for the third time. Me, disheveled hair, wrinkled shirt. Remi, bare above his low-hanging jeans, no shoes or socks, looking like he’d just done . . . well, exactly what we’d just done. The light from his sign set the perfect scene, illuminating us and leaving no room for doubt that the man in front of a bar at two in the morning was me. When I scrolled, it went to the next image, which was when he’d grabbed my shirt and yanked me in for one last kiss.

And there it was, online in full HD with its own detailed exposé. It was like my personal walk of shame broadcast for the world to see.

Movement made me look up at Avery. She had her face in her hands with her elbows on her knees. My heart ached as I watched her, this woman who was once everything to me. The mother of my child. My wife up until a year and a half ago. A woman I had loved since I was fourteen.

And I had loved her, in the best way I could. I’d been denying the truth about myself, hoping I was wrong about it, because how could I love her like that but not be in love with her? It was simple, really, except nothing was fucking simple about it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said.

Dropping her hands, she met my eyes. Hers were watery, but not a single tear fell. She was strong like that.

“Tell me what?” she asked, her voice barely a rasp.

“Do you need me to say it?”

“Yes.”

I sighed. “I’m gay, Avery.”