“Shut the fuck up!” Fletcher spat.
“If you don’t want to be separated from Piers, then you will renegotiate. I’ve already spoken to Bedingfield and Rowe. They’re willing to cooperate. You can’t fight me on this, Fletcher. Both of you will come to Jacksonville and play for the Manatees, or the two of you will be separated until you’re both free agents. I’ll make sure of it.”
Separated. No.
Fletcher wanted to throw up. This was the worst-case scenario. He was going to lose everything. He was going to lose Taylor. He was losing—
“Deal,” Taylor told him.
“What?” Fletcher turned sharply and glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? We’re not fucking doing that. We’re staying in Seattle.”
“Taylor’s being traded no matter what,” Sean snarked. “Papers have already been drawn up.”
“Taylor! Don’t listen to anything he’s saying!”
Taylor ignored him. “Fletcher will revise his contract. We come out with the full support of the Armstrong family behind us.”
No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t all be for nothing. Fletcher worked harder than anything to get himself traded. To get himself away from his fucking family.
Fletcher dropped Taylor’s hand. “I’m not agreeing to this,” Fletcher told him.
“Yes, you are,” Taylor told Fletcher softly. But it felt like a punch to the face. “I’m not letting him separate us.”
“Are you even hearing yourself right now?” Fletcher spat out, voice breaking. “Do you have no loyalty to our team? To Pancek? Everything we’ve worked for.” You sound just likehim, Fletcher wanted to scream. This was sick. He couldn’t believe Taylor would even entertain this.
Taylor shook his head. “My loyalty is to you.”
Lies, lies, lies. You’re a fucking liar, Taylor. This was the one thing that Fletcher didn’t want. He didn’t even consider any other options.
“Then fucking fight with me!” Fletcher begged, hating how weak he sounded. “We aren’t giving in to these absurd demands.”
It can’t all be for nothing.
Taylor ignored Fletcher and turned back to Sean. “We join the Manatees. We stay together. We come out, and you publicly support us. You’ll back us on this. Give us stability.”
Sean nodded and extended his hand out to Taylor. “We’ve got a deal, son.” He had zero hesitation.
Fletcher watched in horror and betrayal as his boyfriend firmly shook it, making a deal with the fucking devil.
42
EPILOGUE
Two months later, Early September
“Taylor, put your hand on Fletcher’s chair. Drop your shoulders and try to look a little more relaxed. Maybe give us a smile,” the photographer suggested.
“He doesn’t smile in pictures,” Fletcher muttered, sounding bored. It was probably the tenth time he had to remind these goddamn photographers during just this shoot alone. Five interviews and photo shoots in two days. Fletcher wanted to pull his hair out. It was the last leg of their press tour before flying home in the morning to still make it to the game.
“Turn the helmet a little so we can see the full Manatees logo,” the director instructed. A blonde, petite female handler came up and turned the helmet on Fletcher’s lap and repositioned his hand on the top of it. She adjusted Fletcher’s gray suit jacket before reaching behind to straighten out Taylor’s jacket.
“Okay, boys. We’re strong, we’re fearless, we’re proud,” the director told them, gesturing with his hand wildly likehe was directing a middle school play.
Fletcher reached his free hand up to place it lovingly on top of the one Taylor had placed on his shoulder and looked into the camera with his jaw clenched.
“Don’t look so miserable,” Fletcher’s mom called out from the side of the set. It came out sounding sarcastic, but Fletcher knew what she was actually trying to say.
You asked for this. You brought this upon yourself, so sit and look pretty for the cameras.
