Armand smiled at us. “Congratulations to you both. I know how hard this must’ve been, but you handled it with grace. It’s not easy being gay in a professional sports environment.”
I’d heard some of the gossip about Armand and how he and his father didn’t get along before he took over the Kings. It sounded like he and Dev shared that type of background, and I knew I was one of the lucky ones.
“Thank you for making it all possible.” I didn’t think I’d become emotional at leaving, but stepping away from a huge part of my life was like buckling in for a roller-coaster ride with no end in sight.
“The Kings aren’t going to stop their contributions to your causes, in case you were concerned,” Hayden stated. “In fact, we were wondering if you’d be interested in setting up a football camp for high school kids where you grew up, Brody. Maybe you and Dev could hopefully recruit some of your fellow athletes to help.”
Warmth settled in my chest. “That’d be great. I think we’d like that. We usually spend summers down south, so it’d be perfect. I’ll talk to some of the guys.”
“Great. We’ll be in touch.” They said their good-byes and left.
“Let’s head to Dev’s place for lunch.” Ezra pulled out his phone. “I’ll get the cars for us.”
Dev nudged me as we walked out of the offices. “You okay? I thought it went as well as could be expected.”
“Yeah. I’m just curious what the guys are gonna say.” The elevator came, and everyone got in but us. “We’ll take the next one and see you there. Momma’s got a key.”
We waited for the doors to close. “Me too,” Dev agreed, grim-faced. “My phone was vibrating like hell in my pocket during the press conference.”
“Did you look yet?”
He shook his head, an expression on his face I’d rarely seen since I’d met him.
Fear.
“And I’m not going to. I want to have a nice afternoon with the people closest to us. If people are going to shit on our happiness, it can wait.”
It made sense. These were friends we thought had our backs, and I preferred to think they’d be supportive. I put my arm around him and gave him a hug. “It’ll be okay. I know it.”
The afternoon was all we could’ve hoped for, and Ezra went above and beyond by ordering from Charles Pan-Fried Chicken. He then spent most of the time on his phone, eating in fits and starts. I wondered what was going on.
We feasted on fried chicken, ribs, pulled pork with mac and cheese, yams, and string beans. Momma had baked two cakes—carrot and devil’s food—and Kelsie had made cupcakes.
“Oh God,” Dev groaned, rubbing his stomach. “It’s a good thing we don’t have to play this Sunday. I may never move again.”
“Will you miss it?” Finally off his phone, Ezra joined us, and I nodded.
“ ’Course I will. Football’s been my life from when I was thirteen and went away to camp. I can’t say how I’ll feel once training camp gears up.”
“What about you, Dev?”
Stomach woes forgotten, Dev sat up and pinned Ezra with narrowed eyes. “All right. What’s the offer?”
Ezra cracked up laughing. “Damn, you’re good. Okay. It’s tentative, but as you can imagine, my phone’s been on fire.United Sports Networkis interested in hiring Brody for commentary, andNFL Weeklywants you. I told them I’d consider it for you both as long as you’d always be in the same city, covering the games.”
“And they have no problem with our announcement today?” I had to ask.
Ezra whipped out his phone, scrolled for a moment, then read. “We’d be thrilled to have Blink Martin join us. He’s a role model for young people and players alike.”
My eyes smarted with tears. “I just wanna be happy.”
Dev wrapped his arms around me. “As long as we’re together, we will be. I think it’s a great opportunity for us. And like Ezra said, people need to see that gay men can play football. And win. Seven damn Super Bowls and twelve winning seasons in my career. No one’s ever gonna take that away from me.”
God, I loved his passion. It was the first thing I’d noticed about him on the field all those years ago, and it had never waned in all our years together.
The buzzer sounded, and Dev kissed my cheek and went to answer it. I heard him murmur into the speaker box. He met my eyes with an odd expression.
“What’s wrong? Who’s that?”
