“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, there are a lot of questions now. Do you want to come out? If so, when? When do you want to tell the team, if at all? Do your agents know, and what are their recommendations?”
“My agent knows I’m bi, though I haven’t updated him since Hardy and I got together. He’s always said he’ll work with the team whenever I choose to come out.”
“Mine knows everything, and he’s behind me whenever I want to do this. I want to be clear, we have no intention of hiding this.” Ryan sends a pointed look Chet’s way.
“Then you can deal with the consequences.”
Bianca clears her throat. “There are no consequences for being queer players or having a workplace relationship as long as it doesn’t impact their abilities to do their jobs.”
“Exactly,” Chet says. “And what happens when you come out to the team and fights break out because no one wants to play with”—he pauses and swallows—“teammates like you?”
Oh, that asshole wanted to say the F-word, and I don’t meanfuck.
Ryan’s fists clench, and he takes a step forward, but I splay a hand over his chest, holding him back.
But Chet wants to push things and steps closer, glaring at Hardy. “What happens when ticket sales drop because people don’t want to support two gay players?”
I want to point out that I’m bi and Ryan hasn’t defined what he is, but that’s part of his point. He’s trying to take away our autonomy. Pointing that out only gives him more power.
“Be careful how you’re talking, Chet,” Coach says.
Chet steps back, demeanor morphing from angry to calm and eerily lackadaisical. But his eyes… there’s something dark in them.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “All I’m saying is players have been traded for a lot less than fuckingtheir teams Super Bowl chances or losing revenue. Do with that what you will.”
“Are you threatening us?” Ryan barks.
“Hardison,” Coach warns.
Chet puts his hands up. “I’m simply making it clear whatcouldhappen.”
Then he strolls out of the room, whistling.
The second he’s out of earshot, Ryan slams his hand down on a nearby chair, absolutely seething.
I reach for him, but he storms out of the room before I can touch him. My stomach turns. I didn’t like that conversation, either, but I’ve never seen Ryan like this. All I want to do is fix it, recenter him on what matters, but I’m not sure how to do that when the manager of our team just promised to tear us apart because he doesn’t want queer players on his team.
With nothing else to do, I nod to Bianca, Breanna, and Coach, then follow Hardy’s path back to the locker room.
CHAPTER TWENTY
HARDY
I’mbeyond pissed when I get back to the locker room, and all I want is to find something, anything to throw.
I blow past Mark as he walks toward me.
“Whoa, what happened?”
All I can do is growl.
Anger isn’t an emotion I feel frequently. Easygoing and joyful are two of my main character traits. But messing with the people I love is the fastest way to bring an unsettling rage out in me. And the idea that anyone else in the world thinks they get to control Brian and me being together? That they’d try to control it by throwing the word trade around? Well, fuck them. Trade us both and they can lose two consistent power players.
Except that’s the last thing I want. Being separated from Brian isn’t something my heart can endure.
“Ryan.” Brian’s voice hits me square in the chest, but I can’t turn around. I feel like I’ve somehow failed him.
