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“What exactly is the media saying?” I ask warily. “I need to make sure Keegan’s prepared for school tomorrow.”
“To be honest, the main tabloids seem to be focusing more on the club than on the two of you specifically,” Abby says.
My brows draw together. “What do you mean?”
“Here.” She holds her phone up so I can see a news article on the screen. The headline reads “CROYDON PRIDE!”with “pride” printed in rainbow colours.?
“Well that one’s kind of obvious,” I say with a shrug. “It's a bit surprising they didn’t go there before now.”
Abby nods. “True. And believe it or not, there are multiple variations of this one.” She scrolls through her phone, reading, “Milligan, Whitford show Pride; Pride’s Pride; Rainbow FC…et cetera, et cetera.”
“There are also a few reporters who seem to have suddenly remembered I’m bi, so that’s adding fuel to all this as well,” Gideon says with a shrug.
Archie stares at him, mouth parted in surprise. “But…don’t you have a wife?”
Gideon arches a brow. “Funnily enough, my attraction to men didn’t magically disappear when I said my wedding vows. And before you ask—yes, Kylie knows all about it and, no, it’s not an issue.”
Archie ducks his head sheepishly, a faint blush touching his cheeks. “Sorry.”
“So, what’s the best move now?” I ask them.
Gideon and Abby share a look before turning their focus back to me.
“Well, that’s really up to you,” Gideon says. “Once you decide what your playing future is, we can set up a press conference and go from there. We’ll aim to keep the questions focused on your career—whether that be continuing at Pride after your recovery, or retiring to pursue something else—but I think we both know questions about your sexuality and your relationship will come up.”
I nod and offer a bitter smile. “And I think we both also know that there’s not really a choice here. It’ll be a retirement presser.”
“Wait a few days,” Gideon insists. “Discuss it with your family, have a word with the OTs and physios at the club. Work out if a comeback is a possibility before you write it off completely. Make sure retirement is something you actuallychoose.”
I nod and share a glance with Archie, who is, of course, beaming from ear to ear. I know in my heart of hearts there’ll be no more playing professionally for me. Not at my age. But at least I know I have people who’ll have my back if I decide to give a comeback a go.
Chapter twenty-eight
Archie
“Alright,thislooksgood.How’s the pain going?” Josie, one of Tom’s nurses asks him.
“It’s fine. When can I fucking leave?” Tom growls.
“Tom,”I chide, sending him a disapproving look, although the effect is no doubt dampened by the way my lips are twitching. I can’t help it, he’s just so adorable when he’s all grumpy.
“I want to get the fuck out of here,” he grumbles, expression forming into an adorable pout. “I’m sick of being poked and prodded. And I feel gross. I want a proper bloody shower.”
“The meds you’re on now are pretty mild,” Josie says. “I think it should be safe enough for you to shower. We’ll have to wrap your leg, of course. And you need to promise me you’ll sit down if you’re feeling light-headed.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he behaves himself,” I assure her.
She blinks at me in surprise for a moment, before a wide smile stretches across her face. Do other patients’ boyfriends not want to help their loved ones shower? Weird.
“And what about sex?” Tom asks. “When can we do that?”
His heated gaze finds mine and I can practically see his brain ticking over, jumping from the relatively innocent thought of me helping him shower, to the much dirtier one of me riding him on a shower chair. My cock twitches at the prospect, but before I can get too excited about it I have to remind myself that Tom’s seriously injured. Anything we do is going to require a bit of special care.
“Uh, I’m going to leave that up to your discretion,” Josie says awkwardly. She makes a quick note on her gloved hand, then clips her pen back to her scrubs shirt and starts backing out of the room. “Dr. Harding will be here in a few hours. He needs to give you the final all-clear and then you can go home.”
“What about something to cover Tom’s leg?” I ask just as she’s about to exit.
Her cheeks flame and she can barely meet my eyes—no doubt she’s also figured out what Tom wants us to do in the shower. I have to fight hard not to laugh at her discomfort. “I’ll be back with that shortly.”
