Colin looked as if he were going to be sick, so I shoved him down in the chair and stood beside him.
Mr. Carlisle spoke up. “Gentlemen, I’m sure you already know the official stance of the NFL. That’s left to the individual owners. I, like other team owners, believe that who you love is none of our business. My friend Greer Rowan has quite a few players in same-sex relationships and marriages in Portland. He broke the initial barrier there, and I am more than happy to break the other one here. To protect everyone, all I ask is that you talk to our attorneys about unknown issues and keep your performance on the field professional.”
Colin slumped back in the chair but didn’t let go of my hand.
“Thank you, sir. It won’t be an issue.”
Mr. Carlisle smiled. “Thank you for confiding in us. Are you choosing to tell your teammates, or are you keeping your relationship private?”
I snorted. “I don’t think he’d be able to conceal it from them, and I don’t want to. We’re just going to play football, and ashis captain, I’m going to continue to ride his ass when he does something wrong.”
It took two seconds to realize my inappropriate choice of words, but Mr. Carlisle and Coach didn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Well, don’t make things too hard on him,” Coach said. “He’s doing a good job.”
We had to get the fuck out of there before Colin commented on what I said. I could see it coming from the smirk on his face.
I pulled him up from the chair, then released his hand. “We’re going to get ready for practice. We don’t want to be late.”
“Good plan,” Coach agreed.
When we were safely inside the elevator, I glanced over at Colin. “You okay?”
He leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator, rubbing his hand over his beard. “Yeah. It was easier than I thought it would be. Thought they might want to dump my contract.”
“Why would they do that? We’re a world away from what happened. My dad will figure it all out.”
I glanced at the floor number, then leaned over to give him a quick, reassuring kiss before the doors opened.
Colin smiled up at me. “Now to tell the team.”
I shook my head. “We don’t have to tell them anything.”
“Are you afraid of what they’ll say?”
“No,” I scoffed. “It’s no one’s business. If we keep the status quo on the field, that’s all that matters.”
“Okay. Got it.”
The look on his face should have been a warning about what was to come. But I missed it. As soon as we walked into the locker room, Colin went to his stall and stood up in his chair.
“Excuse me, gents. I have an announcement to make.”
Conversations died away, and the music that usually blared through the locker room to pump us up stopped. All heads turned to him.
In the eerily quiet locker room, Colin announced our relationship to everyone within hearing distance while I prepared to make a run for it.
“If you don’t know me, let me introduce myself to ya. My name’s Colin Kearney, and the rugby bloke you’ve been hearing about. You may have seen me getting railed by my captain.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Evan added, making everyone laugh.
Colin wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m here to announce to all you blokes that said captain, Carson St. James, is mine. He’s off the market, so if you had any ideas, kindly back the fuck off. Thank you and carry on.”
He stepped down from the chair and marched toward me like a man on a mission. Grabbing my face, he kissed me like a porn star to make his point. Momentarily forgetting where we were, the catcalls brought a special kind of embarrassment.
“I fucking hate the way you do things,” I murmured.
He grinned. “No ya don’t. Ya really don’t.”
