End Zone Heat Page 14
He hated that Missy was going to be the only one to profit from this disaster, but he had no control over that either. Adam was too afraid. Afraid of his own feelings, and too afraid of what others thought of him.
That wasn’t something easy to fix. It wasn’t something Dyson could fix for Adam either, no matter how desperately he wanted to.
It was over. He needed to accept that and move on.
So why was that so hard to actually do? Why was he sitting in his truck, still thinking about it like it was a problem he had any hope of solving?
Disgusted with himself, he got out of the Range Rover. He walked up the stairs to his place and let himself in. He opened the curtains to let in light. Then he headed to the fridge to look at what he had for food. He wasn’t really hungry, but he knew he could distract himself by cooking. At least for a little while.
He didn’t have anything fresh. So that meant a trip to the market.
Fine. It was better than sitting around alone in his place, trapped in his own head, replaying everything that had happened.
He turned and headed for the door again. He needed to keep on the move. He needed to focus on other things, even trivial things.
Anything he could do to put this pain behind him for good.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ADAM
He met Missy in a parking lot behind a Laundromat two miles away from the stadium. It was in a weed-choked lot. She was in her little red Mazda. He pulled up and parked behind her. For a moment, he merely sat there staring at her dark shape behind the wheel.
He had a hard time hating her, even after all this. He knew he should. She was blackmailing him after all. She was trying to destroy his life if he didn’t pay her. And he was sure he’d hate her later when it no longer mattered.
But right now, he only felt exhausted by the whole thing. He wanted to have it over with. More than anything, he wanted to put it behind him so he could focus on football again. After all, that was what he was best at. He certainly sucked at love.
Listen to him. Sounding all sad and depressed. It was disgusting.
He needed to pull himself together and get this over with. He had everything ready to set up. Once she told him the account she wanted the money in, he would transfer it. It would be held for a few days because of the size of the transfer, but he wasn’t willing to do anything shady with this. And going to a bank to get several hundred thousand dollars in cash was not even remotely realistic.
He climbed out of the car, bringing his smartphone. He leaned against the side of his car, the metal cold against him, even in his long coat. Dallas didn’t usually get that cold, even in winter. Not compared to Minnesota or Maine. But despite the sun shining overhead, it wasn’t supposed to hit fifty degrees today.
Missy got out of her car. She wasn’t wearing her usual designer clothes. Instead, she wore a coat over a sweater, jeans, and brown boots. She was wearing minimal makeup and jewelry.
She stalked over to him, reaching into her handbag. “Let’s get this over with. I don’t want to look at you any more than I have to.”
He let that insult go. Instead, he looked her in the eyes. “You know this is wrong, don’t you?”
She glared at him for a second and then looked away. “Don’t give me that shit. I told you. I need to look out for myself. No one else is going to do it.”
“You’re right,” he said calmly. “No one else is going to take care of you. Not the way you’re looking for.”
“Just shut up. I don’t want to listen to your whining and your gold-digger insults. I sent you a link to my account. Transfer the money. I’ll give you my phone, and you can smash it or keep it or whatever. The only copy is on there. I mean, besides the one I sent you.”
“I guess I have to trust you then.”
“That’s right, you bastard. How does it feel to be on the shit end of the stick?”
It felt terrible, of course, but that went without saying.
His phone chimed. He glanced at the text. It was from Missy. It had details to her bank account. He opened his own banking program, ready to put the transaction through and put this behind him.
Except he couldn’t.
Right then, all he could think of was Dyson. How much he was going to miss the man. How much the emptiness inside him ached. And how happy he’d been yesterday. Before all of this had exploded.
This last week had been one of the best of his life. There was no way he could deny it. It was the simple truth. For a while, with Dyson, he had been happy. He had been at peace with himself. He had been loved.
But wanting that again was selfish, wasn’t it? He had a duty to his team. Missy was going to blow Adam’s secret out of the water, exposing him for what he was.
And what was that?
That he was a liar and a fake. Just like a whole bunch of other celebrities. He would be letting everyone down.
Yeah. But you’re more than that too. Dyson was trying to get you to understand that. To accept it.
That was true, wasn’t it? Dyson had come after him hard because he hated hypocrites. Right now, Adam felt like the poster child for hypocrisy. But he hadn’t only been angry. He’d been disappointed. Disappointed that Adam was too afraid to embrace the truth.
Now his cowardice had led him to push away the very man who cared the most for him.
If the world valued him, then it would accept him. Not everyone, of course. He would take a bunch of fire from both sides. The homophobes and the gay community that he’d betrayed by hiding from it for so long.
But he’d already wasted too much of his life on lies. He’d hurt too many people, including himself, playing these games. It was time to stop. It was time to grow up and accept who he was.
He wasn’t going to reward Missy for her blackmail attempt. Dyson was a good man. A man that Adam knew he loved. Yeah, things had moved fast. But maybe that was why he felt this strongly. He had never felt this close to another man before, and he loved and admired so much about Dyson.
Not only was Dyson hot as hell and damned attractive, but he was also brave and dedicated and didn’t compromise. He didn’t waste time with a lot of empty words. He said what he meant, but he was also sincere. He cared about people. He cared about protecting people and doing the right thing. He was a good man. A man Adam would be happy to love forever.
If he could somehow make things up to him, that was. Because right now, he knew he had a lot to prove to Dyson in order to have any chance at winning him back.
He looked at Missy again. She was watching him with clear impatience on her perfect face.
“Hurry up,” she snapped. “It’s cold out.”
“No.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you just say?”
“I said no. I’ve changed my mind.”
“You can’t change your mind, you bastard! We had a deal!”
“You’re trying to blackmail me with a sex tape. You should be begging me not to turn you over to the police.”
“I will sell this to a tabloid. Don’t think I won’t!”
He shrugged. “Go ahead. I don’t care. I’m done having women like you in my life, because clearly, I have horrible taste in women. But you know what? I was lucky enough to find a man who cares about me. A guy who helps me be a better person. And I’m not going to let anyone take him away from me.”
“You’re going to regret this,” Missy snarled. Her expression was furious, her eyes blazing with anger. “Everyone’s gonna know, and I’m still going to get paid.”
She turned and stormed back to her car. Before she got inside, she told him exactly what she thought about him with a lot of slurs and obscenities. He let her say what she wanted without any reply. She was going to be even more furious when she found out what he was going to do next.
It would take her time to negotiate with the tabloids for the money she wanted. But by then, he would already have put his plan in motion.
Missy peeled out, chirping her tires as she race
d away. He could only smile, feeling a huge load lift off his chest. A load that had been crushing him with its weight.
He had no time to lose. The game was this Sunday. If he was going to make this work, he needed to make a huge gesture.
Good thing he had a huge gesture in mind. Something that no one would forget any time soon. Something that would send the perfect message to Dyson Drake.
He pulled out his cell phone and called his agent, Barry West. Barry answered on the second ring.
“Adam. Just the man I was thinking about. I’ve been casting a few lines here and there, and I think there’s a book deal in that awful, ugly, and totally reprehensible attack. There’s an angle here, and—”
“Barry,” he interrupted. The man was a good agent…as agents went…but once he got wound up on his next big idea, the man was an unstoppable chatterbox. “I need a huge favor.”
“Anything for you, Adam. You know that. Give me the word and I’m on it.”
“I need you to get me on a late-night talk show. I don’t care which one. They’re all good.”
“I’m on it, buddy boy. When were you thinking? For the playoffs?”
“This Friday night.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, cowboy. That’s not a lot of time.”
“I know. But I need you to work your magic. And as bait, tell them I’m going to announce something huge. It will be a big ratings win.”
“What’s this announcement?” Barry asked, suddenly concerned. “You’re not retiring, are you?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”
“Why is that possibility second on your list of bad things, Barry?” he asked, amused.
“I’m just saying. As long as there’s nothing hinky…”
“There’s nothing hinky. But it’s a surprise.” It was a surprise he intended to keep from everyone until the time was right to reveal it. That meant his agent. That meant the team. And that definitely meant Dyson Drake.
There was a long pause on the other line as the wheels in Barry’s head turned. “Since we go way back, I’m happy to trust you on this. I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks, Barry. I owe you one.”
He disconnected and immediately called the team’s travel coordinator. She made all the elaborate transportation plans for the team, but she also picked up side work as a travel agent for players and their personal trips and vacations. Luckily, she liked him. Especially after he’d tossed the football around with her teenage son at one of the team events.
His luck was still in. He got her on the third ring. “Adam? It’s nice to hear from you.”
He smiled. Not nearly as nice as it was to hear her voice. “Sheila, I need a huge favor. I want to charter a private jet. I need to be in New York for a talk show on Friday night. Price is no object. Can you make that happen?”
“For you, of course.”
“You’re an angel, Sheila. I mean it.”
She laughed, sounding genuinely pleased. “When money’s no object, things are easy for me. I’ll get you a plane chartered and text you all the details.”
After they said their goodbyes, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and stood there for a moment, staring at the graffiti on the back of the beige Laundromat.
It was long past time to make things right.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DYSON
Dyson stood on the left side of the late-night talk show set. He was in Manhattan. Only hours ago, he had been in Texas. Everything had an unreal air to it right now.
He watched as Adam walked onto the stage to wild applause. The show host stood and shook Adam’s hand as the studio audience clapped.
The quarterback looked perfect in his tailored suit and bright tie. As Dyson watched, he felt the ache inside him deepen.
No matter how hard he tried to keep things in his mind professional, just looking at Adam reminded him of exactly what he’d lost. The pain felt too raw to deal with. But he had to.
As for Dyson, he was wearing one of the suits Adam had bought for him. That somehow made things worse. He wouldn’t have worn this suit—not after what had happened between them. Except that Adam had sent the suits to Dyson, delivered by a courier, along with a text sharing the travel itinerary to New York for this show on Friday night. Adam’s text told him that he wanted him to wear one of the two designer suits for the show tonight. It was non-negotiable.
Dyson might not technically work for Adam, but he didn’t want to make things any more difficult and tense than they already were. After all, he was being paid until the end of the season. He had to stay professional.
So he wore the suit. It fit like a dream. It made him look like a million bucks. But the only sour thing was, he hadn’t had the chance to tell Adam that. He hadn’t even had the chance to say thank you again.
He hadn’t spoken with Adam directly since the big falling out. In fact, he’d barely seen the star quarterback since then.
On the private jet, Dyson had ridden toward the front. Adam had kept out of sight in the luxurious back area.
In the limo, Dyson had ridden in the front with the chauffeur while Adam had stayed in the back with the divider raised.
Adam had barely even glanced his way here at the studio. Only once had they locked eyes. It had been an intense and painful moment. It left Dyson feeling uncharacteristically shaken and filled with regrets.
That moment had been another turning point for him. Now he wasn’t sure he could finish this job, even keeping his distance. He hated to admit failure, but this one might just be too much.
His heart had been compromised. He couldn’t focus like he needed to. All he kept thinking about was how much he cared for Adam. How much losing him hurt. How angry he was that things had ended the way they had.
It wasn’t professional. So he needed to hang up his spurs and tell Jerry Macklin to find Adam a new bodyguard.
And he would. Come Monday. After the big game that would decide whether the Razorbacks clinched a spot in the playoffs or not. As hard as it was right now, he couldn’t change things until then.
He watched as the host chatted amiably with Adam, the two of them joking around and making the audience laugh. The host asked about the attack in the club. Adam displayed his usual modesty, giving all the thanks to Dyson.
Dyson was shocked and unnerved when the cameras turned on him. The audience began to applaud. He didn’t know whether to smile or wave or mug for the camera—none of which felt right. So he only nodded.
The host went back to chatting and joking with Adam about the season and his personal life. Adam certainly had a way with people. He had a charisma that Dyson didn’t share. Most people feared him, but they were drawn to Adam. Maybe that was the reason he’d been so strongly drawn to Adam too.
One of many reasons. Too many reasons to count.
The host leaned forward earnestly as he looked at Adam. “We’re always happy to have you on, but they’re telling me you have a big announcement. I’m hoping you’re not going to announce your retirement. That’s going to leave a lot of upset fans in Texas, my friend.”
Dyson focused in on the conversation. He’d been wondering what this surprise trip had been all about. He knew it was a last-minute thing, but little more than that. It certainly hadn’t been on the schedule on Monday. They’d been scheduled to take the team plane to New York, not a private jet.
“It’s nothing like that, Tom.” Adam leaned back in his seat. “Razorbacks fans can count on me being with the team for a long time. No, it’s something far more personal.”
The host looked intrigued. “Okay, I’ll bite. Engagement plans? Or did you marry one of the Kennedy clan in the Elvis chapel?”
“It might be more shocking than that for a lot of people.” Adam took a deep breath and looked straight into one of the big cameras. “I wanted to come on TV tonight and tell the world I’m gay. I know it’s blunt. I know I have exactly the opposite reputation. But someo
ne very close to me helped me to realize that I can’t continue living a lie. I owe it to everyone, including that very special man, to come out and tell the truth.”
The host looked shocked. For a moment, the audience made no sound. Then they began to clap. Adam’s smile was shy, uncharacteristically uncertain. He nodded and pushed ahead as the clapping stopped so people could hear him.
“I know I’ve hurt some people, keeping this secret,” he said. “And I’m sorry. I mean that with all my heart. I was selfish. I believed that coming out would hurt the team, but I also had selfish reasons for the secret. I believed it would cost me fans. That it would destroy my career. But one man I met has saved my life in so many ways. He gives me courage. I can’t thank him enough.”
Dyson stood there frozen. His heart beat like a bass drum in his chest, and adrenaline zipped through his veins. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Adam.
Adam was still looking into the camera. He was still speaking calmly but with obvious emotion in his voice. “I wanted to let him know how I feel about him. I want him to know how much he means to me. He convinced me to stop being afraid of who I am inside. He pushed me to make a stand, to come out to the world so other people in the community would know they aren’t wrong to feel how they feel, to love how they love. I know I have a lot to make up for, both to the community and to this incredible man who means so much to me. But more than anything, I want to say one final thing. The most important thing.”
Adam stood and turned to face Dyson, looking him right in the eyes where he stood off to the side of the studio soundstage. “Dyson Drake, I love you. I owe you more than I can say. You tried to warn me that I was making a mistake, not being true to myself and my feelings, but I didn’t take your advice. I blamed you and pushed you away. I’m so very sorry. But I never stopped loving you.”
Dyson had no words. He felt as if he were in some kind of wild dream that no one else would believe.
But he was here. This was real. And Adam had just admitted his love on national television.