I caught Marlon’s eye. “Catch you tomorrow.”
“Later.”
I waited, unsure what Coach wanted. A quick rundown of my playing form since camp started didn’t reveal any glaring problems, aside from the usual need to drop some excess weight and put on the muscle, plus simply get into the groove of playing.
“What’s up, Coach? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re looking good out there. Are you having a problem with Zeke?” Serious brown eyes met mine. “I caught some of what was going down in the locker room.”
Shame licked through me. “That was my fault. I shouldn’t have allowed his stupid mouth to get to me. I’m sorry, Coach. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Good. You’re the leader, Dev. You have to learn to rise above the foolishness, no matter how much it might upset you.”
I hung my head. “I know. I have to remember, football first.”
“We have a tough but workable schedule this year and a good shot at winning the division and going all the way. I don’t want conflict among the team. We have one mission—to win.”
Chafing under his criticism, my cheeks grew hot, and I nodded. “I understand, Coach.”
“But the management of the Kings as well as the field staff are as concerned about the players’ mental states as we are about your physical. And not only you—every member of the team. So if anything is going on you want to talk about, I’m available. No waiting.”
Shit. Did Coach think what Zeke was insinuating was true? “I-I’m okay. Everything’s great. Really. We’ve just all gotta get in the same mindset.”
Coach’s face remained skeptical. “You know, Dev, I’ve had players get in all kinds of jams—pregnant girlfriends, drugs, gambling…there’s very little I haven’t seen.” He took me by the shoulder, and something in his expression gentled. “I remember you saying you don’t have a good relationship with your parents. I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything. And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, the Kings have people you can speak with.”
“I’m good, Coach. Promise. The way Zeke talked was disrespectful to women, and I didn’t like it.”
I could see something working behind Coach’s eyes and waited. “You know, I think we can make this a teachable moment. I’m going to suggest to the owner that we do a public service message about respecting women—we all know how violence and abuse against women is a problem with athletes. Would you be up for that?”
“Yeah, sure. I think it would be great. And I know the guys would be as well.”
A satisfied smile broke across Coach’s face. “Excellent. I’ll talk to the owner, and we’ll come up with something.” He gave me a playful shove. “Now go get your massage.”
I saluted him. “Yes, sir.”
Laughing, I walked away toward the spa, where Enzo, my massage therapist, was waiting for me.
“There he is. I thought you forgot about me.” Enzo winked.
Enzo was built like a boxer—big arms and shoulders and a broad, well-muscled chest. At fifty, I had no doubt he was in better shape than some men half his age—maybe because he had a husband fifteen years younger than him—they’d been together for years.
“Not on your life. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
I left my bag on the chair and followed him into the room, decorated in soothing tones of pale green and beige. My body ached from the strenuous activity, and I couldn’t wait for Enzo’s rubdown.
While I stripped, he prepared his magic potion of oils and creams, and I lay face down. The second he touched my shoulders, he protested.
“What the hell, man? You’re so tense. Relax.”
“I’m trying.”
Enzo kneaded and pressed hard, digging into the tight knots, and I groaned, then sighed. “Damn, that feels good.”
“I see you like it. You sound like my husband and me when we’re doing the deed.” He snickered, and I grinned.
“You’re ridiculous.”
I’d had him as my massage therapist since I was drafted, and we talked about everything—neither of us had good relationships with our families, and we’d bonded over that sad fact. Regardless, I knew some of the guys didn’t like having a gay man do their massages. Another reason why I knew I had to keep quiet about who I was. My mind drifted while he worked on me, and I thought about Brody and how great it had been having him with me all the time. Each week we’d switch between staying at my place and his, and so far it worked out perfectly.
