I headed inside, greeting one of the security guys at the door. I wasn’t here regularly enough to know if he was new or not, but he was built like a brick shithouse and had a handsome smile, as well as ink running from beneath the collar of his black shirt along his neck.
“Broadwater,” he greeted, surprising me.
“Uh, hey.” Even after years of being in the spotlight, it still boggled my mind that people out in the street knew who I was. While in and around the court I expected it, I’d deliberately lain low, keeping out of the press as much as possible, only ever really being photographed when out on official team dinners, usually with a girl my agent had organized to be my plus one.
Mickey and I weren’t close. We didn’t have that friendly relationship some of the other guys had with their agents. Probably because I wasn’t interested in media attention or making more cash in sponsorships. Not being his money cow meant I was pretty low on his priority list.
The only thing I’d asked him for—apart from good transfer deals—was my name out of the press and for a trustworthy plus one for dates. He did so, all without question.
“Your team is out back.”
I dragged my gaze away from the bouncer’s tattooed flesh and smiled. “Yeah, thanks.”
A small head bob was my acknowledgment. I headed inside, the sound of my team enough to draw my attention and make me head in their direction.
“Dude, you showed. Pay up, Sutton,” Jayden said, throwing me a shit-eating grin and holding his hand out to Gale Sutton.
“Seriously, Broadwater, today, the first time I’ve bet in ages, you decide to show up.” He scowled at me, but the humor was there all the same.
I snorted as I stepped closer to the guys. “Looks like Jayden’s buying, and I like to keep you all on your toes. Keep you guessing.”
Sutton rolled his eyes before placing a beefy arm around my shoulder. “You can keep us guessing all you want. Just show your ugly face here more often.”
“Aw, you missed my pretty face? If I’d have known, I’d have organized a poster or something, or maybe one of those life-sized pillows of me for you to take home with you,” I razzed.
“The Aussie has jokes, everyone. Mind yourselves, he’s going to go into Aussie mode anytime soon, and we’re not gonna understand a lick of what he’s saying.” Sutton squeezed my shoulder lightly, leading me to the bar. “What’s Jayden buying us? Shots?”
I chuckled. “Hell no. Training might not be till four, but I’m still knackered and need sleep without waking with a hangover. Just a beer, whatever’s on tap.”
“Make that two,” Sutton said to the bartender. “And put it on Jayden’s tab. His treat.”
“The fuck, how much was your contract worth again, yet you’re not buying your own beer?” Jayden grumbled at Sutton’s side.
“You just won my last hundred-dollar bill.” He shrugged, as though that explained it all.
“And your credit card?” Jayden’s brow lifted.
Sutton shrugged again, not bothering to answer. Instead, he picked up the beer the bartender placed in front of him and took a huge swig.
“Tight-ass.”
“Thanks for noticing, Jayden, my man. Buns of fucking steel right here,” Sutton shot back. I snorted loudly—probably a mistake, since both guys zeroed in on me.
“What did I do?”
“Other than losing me a hundred bucks?” Sutton quipped. “Not a lot, apparently. Where have you been hiding? Beyond practice and games, you’re a damn ghost.”
Jayden grabbed his beer and indicated toward an empty booth. Sutton and I followed, beer in hand, and took a seat.
“So what gives?”
My attention shifted to Jayden, who’d asked the question. I angled back in my seat, glancing between the two of them, and frowned. “You know, this feels like an intervention or some shit.” While there was a lightness in my tone, it really felt that way. These two players had joined the Eagles when I had, and before that, we’d run into one another a time or two. After playing alongside each other for the past three years, we knew each other well. Or at least as well as I’d been willing to share, since there wasn’t a chance I’d be outing myself.
There wasn’t a single professional basketballer in our pro league currently out. Sure, there were a handful of gay or bi players out, a couple in football and hockey, even a baseballer. From what I understood, they dealt with homophobia regularly—usually after having a poor game—but the teams were supportive and cracked down on any homophobia from fans and the press pretty damn quick. The media frenzies had calmed, usually after an interview or something.
More power to them.
I loved that a few pro players were living how they wished, openly and without apology, and rightly so. But I had no interest in being the only out basketball player. More than that, I had zero interest in being talked or gossiped about. And honestly, I just didn’t want the attention. Not now. Not ever.
