She takes off toward the stairs, and Troy gestures into his office. “Come on,” he says roughly.
He closes the door behind him, and the second we’re alone, I want to throw my arms around him, feel the comfort of his sturdy body. He turns just as quickly to his scotch, though, pouring us each a small glass, which he hands off to me.
Troy plops down in one of the armchairs, gesturing for me to sit across from him. “The story speculates about your sexuality,” he says frankly. “Sorry to say.”
I sit down, taking that in. “Oh.”
Speculation is enough to make everyone else wonder, too. My team. The fans. The media. Everyone.
I throw the scotch back and feel the burn. “Fuck,” I finally manage. “That sucks.” I look up to Troy. “Are they figuring out…”
“No indication they’re looking our way,” he says quickly. “Hell. The man could just be making the rumor up. But we don’t know, honestly.”
I nod, working it over with my brain. I came here looking for Troy, needing something from him. This curveball is a total surprise.
Okay. My teammates are going to start to wonder about me, and right before the retreat and the big game. They won’t turn against me, at least I don’t think. But it’s another complication to navigate when I’m trying to rejoin, and my stomach gets tight as more and more ramifications of this story occur to me.
Troy must see the look on my face. He reaches out and places his hand over my knee, giving me a firm, slow rub. “You’ve got this,” he says. “The bigger you get, the more people are going to try to cut you down. Sorry the first big smear came with awful timing. But that prick wants to throw you off your game, and you’re not going to let him.”
I nod, taking his words in. His touch feels so good, and I place my hand on top of his. “Thanks,” I tell him. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
Troy grunts, pleased by that, and we stay touching.
“I miss you,” I tell him.
Troy doesn’t break eye contact with me, but I see something twitch in him. “I’ve missed you, too,” he says, but pulls his hand away and stands. He walks over to his small bar and opens a fizzy water, his back to me.
I stand, too.
“Troy,” I try again, not even sure what I want to say.
When he turns, he considers me. “Is that why you came to the office? Because you miss me?”
“I needed to see you,” I tell him. “I can’t just not see you, Troy.”
He sucks in a breath, and I feel his chest rise.
“I needed to see you, too,” he finally says. “Of course I needed to see you, Orlando.”
The words are like a salve. I immediately step forward and kiss him, closing my lips slowly over his. Surprised, Troy sucks in his breath, but then his hands land on my hips. He opens his mouth, kissing me back while his beard scrapes my skin, and a groan comes out from under his lungs.
This is what I want. Him.
Troy.
He pulls away again. “Orlando,” he says cautiously.
“Not even here?” I drop my voice. “I can’t even kiss you with your office door locked?”
Troy buries his hand in his beard. “We thought we were being safe enough. It looks like we weren’t.”
I take in a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I’ve been working hard and fighting to show him how serious I am, but I feel like I’m on the verge of blowing it, pulling another Orlando that proves to Troy and the team that I’m too loose, too risky.
But there’s got to be another way.
“If a story is coming out anyway, then what’s stopping us?” I ask him.
Troy arches an eyebrow. “Stopping us from what?”
