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We’d been holed up in Jordan’s house for the past week because it was in a private development, and therefore, the media couldn’t come near us. We weren’t specifically hiding, but we both needed time to adjust to our new reality and the huge amount of media attention we were getting. Our team had received their fair share of attention, too. Our teammates had been hounded for interviews and sound bites, and the club’s email, post, and phone lines had been swamped—although, thankfully, that seemed to be dying down from the initial frenzy. Everyone had an opinion, and they wanted to let us know.
The identity of the Reddit poster had been found, thanks to a call to action from Glevum. It was nothing more than a thoughtless wanker of a teenager, looking for online kudos, and Harvey had assured us he was dealing with it. In a way, they’d almost done us a favour because their actions had been widely condemned, and almost all the British press coverage had been sympathetic towards us. It was miraculous. Even the tabloid coverage had been better than either of us could have hoped for. The tabloids mostly seemed to be in shock that their favourite scandalous party boy player was in a relationship with the person he’d been aggravating for months. Speculation was rife that our animosity was a cover for our “torrid affair,” as one tabloid put it.
Social media was…mixed. We’d received a flood of supportive messages, not only from our teammates and other footballers but complete strangers, too. But among the support was the vitriol, the hateful messages and comments. Everyone had done their best to shield us from the worst of it, but it was impossible to avoid it entirely. Some of the things we’d read had been filled with such venom both of us had been brought to tears on more than one occasion.
“It’s my dad,” Jordan announced when his phone began ringing. He answered it, hitting the speaker button. “Hi, Dad.”
“Alright, Jord? How’re you and Theo holding up? Need me to have words with anyone? Two Jugs John punched a man down the local last night when he dared to talk shit about you, so if you need some muscle, he’s our man.”
“Aww. That’s nice of him. Tell him I said thanks.” Jordan smiled, and I shook my head.Always choosing violence, I mouthed at him, so he kicked me in the shin. I gave him an icy glare, and he smirked as he returned to the conversation. “We’re doing okay. The first few days were the worst. It’ll probably go on for a while longer, then people will get bored and move on to something else. I dunno what it’ll be like when the games start up again. Harvey’s put out an announcement that any fans who make homophobic comments will be ejected from the stadium and their season pass revoked, if they have one. I hope it’s enough. I don’t know what’ll happen with the fans from other teams.”
“Leeds and Wolves both got fined last season for homophobic chants from their fans. Something like a hundred and fifty k each, Gary said. The lads are gonna keep an ear out at the games, and if the fans say anything, their clubs will have to pay.” He grunted. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but it might be a bit of a deterrent.”
“I love you, Dad,” Jordan suddenly said. “Thanks for supporting me.”
The sound of a throat clearing came through the phone. “Love you, too, son. That’s what I’m here for. I’m here for you both, alright? Speaking of the both of you, when are you gonna bring Theo round? I need to give him the dad talk.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’ve got a shovel in the shed that’s just right for digging someone’s grave.”
My eyes widened, and Jordan laughed. “No, Dad, you’re not going to try and scare off my boyfriend. I’d like to keep him, thanks.”
“Ah, I’m just messing with you. Come round next week, okay? Or I’ll come to you if you’re worried about the paps.”
“We’ll come.”
They spoke for a few more minutes before ending the call. When Jordan had placed his phone on his bedside table, he crawled over to me, straddling my body. Stroking my hair back from my face, he stared down at me, concern in his eyes. “What’s that face for?”
I sighed. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice, but he could read me too well. “It’s nothing, really. I had an email from my uncle. A distant uncle, but even so.” Opening up my email app, I handed my phone to Jordan.
His expression darkened as he read the message. “Fuck him, and fuck your parents. They have no right to judge who you want to be with. So fucking what if I’m not a lawyer or a politician or I can’t give you biological kids? I’m doing my dream job, and I’m very fucking good at it, and there are plenty of ways we can have kids.” He paused. “Y’know, in the future. If we wanted to. The point is I’m a fuckingcatch.”
“There’s that modesty I love so much.” How did he always manage to brighten my world when I was feeling low?
“You know it’s true, baby.” Flashing me a grin, he lowered himself on top of me, planting his hands on either side of my head. “But do you know what else is true?You’rea fucking catch, and I’m the luckiest person in the entire fucking galaxy because I have you. You’re my favourite person in the universe, Theo Lewin.”
I couldn’t speak for a minute, too overwhelmed by everything I felt for this man who was looking down at me with so much love in his eyes. When I’d recovered enough, I cleared my throat. “I think I want to block him. My parents, too. We haven’t spoken in a long, long time, and I—I…”
“You don’t need to come up with any reasons to justify blocking them. Do it now.”
“Okay.” My hands shook slightly as I navigated through the screens on my phone, deleting and blocking, removing all traces of toxicity from my life. When I was done, I closed my eyes and exhaled. “I feel…better.”
“I’m so proud of you.” Jordan placed a kiss to the tip of my nose. “Let’s make you feel even better. Imagine this—you and me getting called up for the England team.”
I blinked my eyes open, staring up at him. “You think there’s a chance of that happening?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible. Look at the facts. When we released our statement telling everyone we were bi and in a relationship with each other, the official England team reposted it. Not only that, the England managerandthe captain, plus some of the other players, posted and commented. We’re on their radar now, I guarantee. They’re probably watching footage of us as we speak. You know how good we are together.”
I tugged him down to me, rolling us over so I was pressing him into the mattress. “I love you so much. We are good together, and not only on the pitch. I don’t know about the England team, but I’m happy. I have a career I love, and next season, we get to play in the Europa League. But most importantly, I’ve got you. You’re all the family I need.”
When I lowered my head for a kiss, Jordan slid his hand in between our mouths. “Wait a minute. You’ve got family who support you. Your cousin, the one who interviewed me forOffsidemagazine…what was his name…Dean?”
Dean Lewin. We barely knew each other because his branch of the family wasn’t upper class enough for my parents’ tastes, and he lived somewhere in London, so we’d only interacted a couple of times in my life.
But maybe… “I’ll send him an email.”
Jordan removed his hand. “Later, though. First, I want to re-enact our island massage, but without the cockblocking oil.”
“Mmm. Sounds good to me.” I threaded my fingers through his hair as he smiled down at me. “Before that, I want a kiss.”
“Whatever my lord commands.”
