“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe practice?” My cheeks burned, and I was glad not to be lying right side up.
“I don’t think so. They’re pretty symmetrical.” Enzo chuckled. “I’m guessing she’s a wildcat,hmm? Someone new?” I grunted, not answering, and he moved carefully over the area. “She must not have long nails. The fingers are larger. More square-shaped…” His voice dwindled until he stopped speaking, and I grew cold with fear. I sat up, facing Enzo, who busied himself with the heating pads, not meeting my gaze. “It will be fine. I have special creams and oils to fade the marks.”
“Enzo,” I murmured. “Those marks…you know they’re not from a woman.”
Instead of answering, he left me to lock the door and returned to where I still sat on the table. “What you are telling me, you know I’d never repeat anything.”
Funny enough, I did. And the relief of saying the words out loud sent tears to my eyes. “I’m with someone and…well, obviously, I haven’t said anything. I’ve known I’m bisexual since I was a teenager, but with me playing pro ball…” I paused, my throat dry and aching. “We first got together when we were younger, but it was complicated, and we separated. We met again only recently, and I don’t want to have regrets about what might have been. I want what everyone else has. I’ve decided I can’t keep silent anymore.”
Enzo’s eyes grew wide. “You’re going to come out now? During the season?”
“No. We talked, and he’s willing to wait longer, but I’m not. It’s not fair to him or me to have to hide. We’re notdoing anything wrong. After the Super Bowl, I’ll make an announcement.”
“Years ago, Dev sat on this table and told me his story, and my heart broke.” Enzo laid the heating pad on my shoulders, and it felt so damn good, I groaned. “You spoke with him and Brody about this? They can give you good advice.”
“Yeah, I did. And they helped, but in the end, it’s up to me. If I don’t make the decision to show people that I can be a bisexual athlete, what kind of message am I sending? That I’m ashamed or afraid? Screw that.”
Enzo spread the cream on my back, and I rolled my shoulders to allow it to sink in. Enzo went to work on my calves and ankles, his nimble, strong fingers digging deep into the muscles. After ten minutes, he wrapped my ankle, and I raised a brow.
“What’s that for?”
“It’s feeling a little bit different than the other, and I want to make sure you don’t overdo it. Better to be safe.”
I nodded. “Okay, but it feels fine. Not a twinge.”
“Good. We will keep it that way.”
I dressed and held out my hand to Enzo. “Thank you. I appreciate your friendship and your discretion.”
“I thought when you first came to the team that you were just going to be another pretty-faced quarterback with a big reputation. But you’ve proved me wrong.”
I laughed. “Glad to hear it.”
His eyes were wise and warm. “Be safe out there.”
**
I returned to the apartment to find Fallon waiting. His smile lit up all the empty spaces in my heart, and I knew I could never return to the life I had before—the aimless partying and casual hookups that left me lonelier when they were over.
“Great game, but it was like two different teams from the first half to the second.” He handed me a beer.
I chuckled. “Yeah, ’cause Coach roasted our asses and told us we’d better wake up or he was gonna kick our butts.” I settled on the sofa with a contented sigh.
“Why’d he take you out?” He spotted my taped ankle. “Shit. Are you injured? Does it hurt?” He ran his fingers along the bandage.
“No, Enzo just said it felt a little different, so he wanted to be careful. It’s fine.”
Fallon’s blue eyes glowed. “You’re pretty damn fine yourself.” I held out an arm, and he came over to lay next to me.
“I told him. About us, I mean.” Fallon grew stiff, but I held on. “I didn’t mention names, and it’s your fault in a way.”
He sat up, brow furrowed. “My fault? What’re you talking about?”
“You left scratches on my back. Enzo called you a wildcat.” It was cute to watch Fallon turn red. “But he realized the bruises and marks were too big to be from a woman.”
“What the hell?” he muttered. “Is he a masseur or a forensic lab tech?”
“It’s his job. But I felt safe telling him. He was Dev’s masseur for more than ten years, and he’s gay himself. We had a good talk.”
