AllFreeNovel
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He remains lying there, his eyes shifting back up to the ceiling. “I am. She’s good. She got me out of my contract quickly and set up an interview for me with Leslie next week.”
“An interview for what?” We don’t usually do special interviews, other than out on the track or if there’s a scandal. My heart starts to race, thinking about him being caught up in a scandal because there’s only one I can think of. And that would involve me and him at that charity event.
Fuck.
I watch him swallow tightly as he looks up at the ceiling, not at me. The worry only intensifies. Shit. Cash said no one saw us, and surely, he’d have been all over my ass if they had. “Say something.”
He turns to look at me, nerves dancing in his eyes. “I’m going to talk about my shift in agents and the freedom that allows me.”
I furrow my brow in confusion because that doesn’t sound like a scandal. “O—kay.”
“The freedom to tell the world who I am. That I’m not this sweet, good boy who will eventually settle down and marry a nice girl.”
Reality dawns on me. “You’re going to tell them you’re gay.”
He nods, but he doesn’t verbalize his answer.
“And about you and me?”
He shakes his head, sitting up and sifting his fingers through his thick hair. “No. I’d never do that. I know you aren’t ready for that.”
Shit. Does he want that? For me to tell the world?
I stand up, not caring about my nudity and pace the room, thinking about my childhood. About my abusive shitty father and the names he called me my whole life. I was never good enough for him. He didn’t want me. He wanted a tough guy, and then he fucking left when I was twelve. My mom died, and I was in foster care before I knew what the hell was happening.
Told to toughen up there too. Told I’d never amount to anything, and now I’m a bigshot. I’m a famous racer with three houses, two of which I haven’t even visited in the past year. But they’re mine.
I have more cars than I can count. I have money in the bank and will never be that poor, weak boy again.
I’m the bad boy.
But I can’t be the gay racer.
“You know our fanbase. You know this won’t go over well.”
Sebastian stands up and tugs on his jeans, seemingly uncaring about the drying jizz on his stomach. “I can’t worry about that anymore. I can’t care. I’ve played their games for five years, Axel. I’m done.”
“So, you’re just over your career?” I say a little too loudly as I walk closer to him, hating him for being so damn brave. For being what I’m not.
“I’m not done racing, but I’m done pretending to be someone I’m not.”
“So do that,” I say loudly again, and we meet, toe-to-toe. Him in his jeans and me naked, our chests puffing out furiously. “You don’t have to tell them anything.”
“Bullshit. I do.” He points to his chest. “I can’t do this anymore. Answering questions about when I’m going to get married. When I want to have kids.”
“That’s none of their goddamn business anyway.” And it’s not. Even though I know these are questions asked all the time. “You really think that the apple-pie-eating, church-on-Sunday crowd is going to be fine with this?”
“Why shouldn’t they be?” he shouts, leaning in. “Huh? We aren’t doing anything wrong.”
“I know that. But they think it’s...” I can’t say the words I grew up with. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about it.
“I know. But I can’t care. I’m still going to race.”
“You think you can handle the shit they’re going to throw at you?” I look into his eyes, wanting to beg him not to do it. Thinking about all the shit they’ll say. All the things they could possibly do to him. The hate. I wanted him to have a new agent, just in case. But I didn’t think it would move this fast.
“I can.”
I shake my head, anger sliding through me. Irrational anger I know he doesn’t deserve. “Leave me out of it.”
