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“Ooh, yum. I’ll get that too,” Bryce chipped in, his grin in place at the thought of the taste of summer.
He stretched out on the armchair, his leg hooked over one of the armrests as he played on his phone. It was too hot to do anything even though the sun had set hours earlier. He shook his head, noticing the reporter’s name in his inbox. He rolled his eyes and clicked on the email.What ridiculous thing have they come up with?
He got to the second line and knew he was in trouble. The words blurred in front of him, his chest seizing with an equal measure of dread and panic. The rushing in his ears was so loud that he was woozy within seconds.
They’d found out.
They didn’t have all the details—they thought Ava was his beard—but they knew enough to hit him like a sledgehammer. They knew about his relationship with Cole. Or at least they said they did.
The reporter was presenting him with an ultimatum—she’d break the story on Sunday at noon. It was right in time for some momentum to build with their ravenous readers and make it onto the evening news. If they saw it, the article would be added to their programming. There was no doubt that it would be the topic of conversation on the Monday morning talk shows as well as the sport news on Sunday and Monday nights wrapping up the weekend’s games.
He remembered when the NFL player came out and the Aussie soccer player too—both were international news stories in less than twenty-four hours.Oh shit.
The alternative she presented was doing an exclusive interview with them.
Anger coursed through his veins. Indignation too. How dare they. Why? What had he ever done to anybody? How would it impact Ava and Cole? They didn’t need his shitstorm raining down on their shoulders. It’d be a nightmare.
But maybe… maybe it was all speculation. Maybe their evidence was nothing more than a photo of them doing something innocent together, something that flatmates would do. Could he stick with their story of Cole being his roomie? Maybe the whole thing was a weak attempt to have Bryce give weight to a ridiculous misinterpretation. But was it ridiculous if it was true?
He held his breath as he clicked on the attachments. Fuck. There was no way this could be played off as just roomies. His breath see-sawed out of his lungs and his heart thudded in his chest. His hands shook and sweat trickled down his back as he squeaked out, “Cole.”
His boyfriend looked up from the couch next to him, a frown immediately appearing. Worry flickered in his eyes, and he sat up straighter, taking his feet off the coffee table. Bryce’s breath caught, and he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat as he passed his phone over to Cole.
“What the fuck?” he asked, his head snapping to Bryce when he looked at the image. He handed the phone to Ava and turned to Bryce. Fury twisted his face into a grimace and Bryce’s gut sank. Cole was angry with him. He’d been careless, and now it was coming to bite him in the arse.
“Who took these?” Ava asked, her voice short and sharp like a whipcrack. She was a study in contrasts that night. Wearing a tiny cotton camisole and boxer brief PJ pants and her hair in pigtails, she looked like she belonged at a sleepover. The cocktail in her hand and the anger sharpening her features were almost out of place.
Bryce shook his head, his eyes burning with unshed tears. They were both pissed off, and he hated that he was the one who’d caused it, because even if they all should have been more careful, he was the one who strangers cared about what he did.
“Are they trying to blackmail you?”
“Read the email,” he whispered, his voice a harsh rasp. Broken and devastated.
Cole vibrated with anger, his scowl deepening and his face turning a dark shade of red. His eyes flashed and Bryce could hear him grinding his teeth. Cole jumped up from the couch, roughly shoving their coffee table out of the way with his foot before pacing their small lounge room. He stomped, his heavy footfalls and harsh breathing the only noise as Ava read the email. Bryce buried his face in his hands, flinching when glass shattered and Cole shouted, “Fuck.”
Bryce was on his feet in a split second, looking between his partners. Glass was shattered all over the floor, Ava’s cocktail splashed on the tiles. “What happened?” he gasped, jumping into action to make sure she didn’t have to clean up the mess.
Tears pooled in Ava’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “This is so unfair,” she whispered.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, waving away his concern. “Just dropped it.” She swallowed and sniffed, smiling gratefully at Cole when he picked up the pieces of broken glass and wiped the floor down.
With a sigh, Cole asked, “What are we gonna do?”
Bryce slumped into the armchair again, the wind going completely out of his sails. “I… I have no idea.” His shoulders fell. Resting his elbows on his knees, he stared at the floor before covering his eyes. Maybe if he stuck his head in the sand, he could forget this was happening.
He’d made it into the league and had a decent rookie year—the team didn’t make the finals, but they’d been close, really close. Now that he was in, he was supposed to be shoring up his career, stepping things up and getting as much on-field time as possible. He wanted a spot on the origin team. He wanted to play for Queensland, don the maroon jersey and run onto the field with the best of the best players in the league.
He knew it wouldn’t happen immediately, but if he kept his nose clean, played an excellent game, and backed it up year on year, he’d get there. It was his five-year plan.
The thing was, he wanted to do it all with Ava and Cole by his side. Would they stick around if they had to face the media every time they stepped outside? What about the fans? The toxic ones who thought rugby was a game for men, and “real” men couldn’t love other men.
This was going to be a nightmare for them. He’d deal with whatever was thrown his way. He wouldn’t enjoy it, but it was the path he’d started down the first time he’d donned his footy boots. Bryce’s dream was as interwoven with the negative side, the prejudice, as much as it was with the positives. But at least if the team knew about it, they wouldn’t be blindsided.
“I better start with the team and Trav.”
“Call Trav first,” Ava advised, patting the seat next to her.
