Cliff looked over with concern. How dare Paul create crease lines on his beautiful face.
“I can take feedback from people whose opinion I respect.”
“I’ve had showings in the top markets across the world. I think I know what I’m talking about.”
His whole being tested Brennan’s upchuck reflex.
“You don’t give feedback. You belittle. You were threatened because I have talent. You still are. The only way you could’ve known about the showcase is if you Googled me, and if you’re spending your time keeping tabs on me, then that’s your problem.”
All this time, Brennan was living rent free in Paul’s head. It was time to evict Paul from his.
“There’s a reason I left without saying goodbye. It’s because I don’t want you in my life. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have sex with my amazing boyfriend.”
Brennan hung up, turned his phone on silent, and tossed it in the hamper.
“Now where were we?”
CLIFF
The afterparty was popping. And why wouldn’t it be after the Whitetails just won their sixth straight game, capping off January in style?
The crowd in the mansion let out a big whoop and holler when Cliff, the game MVP, entered hand-in-hand with his boyfriend as usual. After a month of bringing Brennan around, the novelty of a gay athlete had finally begun to wear off among his cohort. The players and partygoers treated Brennan as they would any other teammate’s girlfriend, which was to say, he blended into the background. Brennan didn’t seem to mind, per Cliff’s observations. He seemed to get a kick out of watching Cliff in his element.
They beelined to the bar. Brennan got a beer, and Cliff picked up his usual bottled water. He had drunk a little over the past month, now that he wasn’t as concerned about what he might say when under the influence. But he didn’t keep it up. Alcohol made him feel lethargic. As nerdy as it seemed, he had more fun while sober.
Cliff felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned around to find Coach Trainor. He immediately felt busted, even though he was drinking water.
“Coach.”
Coach gave him a firm nod. “I usually don’t come to these things, but I’m in a good mood. Great game tonight. I think this could be the first year that we have a legitimate shot of making it to the Final Four.”
Cliff’s heart stopped at the thought of making it that far in March Madness. Browerton hadn’t accomplished that feat since his dad was on the team.
“You’ve really stepped up.” Coach leaned in. “And I should’ve said this back at the arena, but I read your article. I’m really proud of you, Cliff. I know it was going to be special when you first mentioned that you were giving this interview, but reading it in print...well, telling your story is going to do a lot of good.”
Cliff felt the warm hand of his boyfriend squeeze his shoulder in support. After Christmas break, he contacted Serena at theBugle. He wanted to give a follow-up interview officially coming out. When the article was published, he emailed a copy to Greg, who he thought would get a kick out of it. A part of him was still in shock that in such a short time, he was already at this point. But with Brennan by his side, the world didn’t look so closed off anymore.
“I’m proud to have you on the team.” Coach gave Cliff a firm goodbye nod and returned to the crowd, where a player asked him if he wanted to do a kegstand.
“Well, I didn’t piss off my coach.” Cliff breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t expect Coach to be so supportive of his coming out, but he was turning into a guy who liked surprises.
For another surprise, Brennan pulled himself into a kiss - right there, in front of everyone - but the noise faded away as soon as their lips met. He felt safe and protected, not just with Brennan, but with teammates who he knew had his back. He wasn’t going to be nice and hide the gay stuff to make people more comfortable. And if people had a problem, that was on them.
Cliff and Brennan got their drinks and walked out the back door to the fire pit. Carpenter and Cudia were making s’mores while another partygoer strummed a guitar. Cliff breathed in the mix of crisp air and crackling flames.
“Brennan!” Dell jumped into his arms. They spun around like the end ofDirty Dancing. Cliff found it ridiculous and hilarious, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t give us that look, Clifford,” Dell said.
Cliff turned white at his childhood nickname. How often did he and Brennan chat?
“Yes, we are two men who hug. He’s queer, I’m here, get used to it.” Dell hopped off Brennan.
“Dell, I am one-man man,” Brennan said.
“Nice boots, Brennan,” Dell said. “Perfect for stomping hearts.”
“Okay, this bit has gone on long enough.” Cliff pulled Brennan close to him. “What other childhood secrets did you tell him?”
