“Yes,” I admitted. “You would be amazing at it.”
He made a shooing gesture with his hands. “Stop talking about it. It’s making me nervous. Let’s change the subject.”
Fine by me. I didn’t want to think about him leaving Houston—leaving me. Besides, I wanted to get to know him better now that some of our boundary walls seemed to be coming down.
“Tell me about your dad,” I said, taking another sip of coffee. “And growing up.”
His expression changed to one of confusion. We’d never talked much about our personal stories. “What do you mean?”
I leaned forward and cradled the warm mug in my good hand on the table. “I’ve met your brothers. Hell, I’ve played against Jake. They’re a bunch of corn-fed bruisers. Then there’s you.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what happened. Ask my mom. A very quiet and tidy interior decorator named Branson lived next door when Mom got pregnant with me, so you can imagine the jokes my dad and brothers have come up with over the years. I actually even kinda look like the guy. Well, mostly because he wore the same kind of glasses I do. But honestly… it was just a fluke, I guess. One of us was bound to like dessert and dick more than pumping iron and…” He looked around. “Another p-word.”
“Did they give you hell about it? When you came out? You said they were protective. That’s good, right?”
I hated to think of him being treated as less than or somehow disappointing. I knew Coach V.’s feelings on what made a successful man, and publishing a cookbook probably didn’t make the cut. The more I pictured Mikey growing up as the black sheep in his family, the more uncomfortable I felt. I started imagining how I’d handle myself the next time I saw Jake on the field.
“My brothers are pretty cool about it, especially now. They try, at least. The only one who’s still weird about me is Eddie.”
He was the one I’d only met once. “Remind me where he is now? Galveston? Works with money or something?”
Mikey shook his head. “Houston. He works as a contracts administrator at the port authority. He’s the one who played center for UT. He’s married to Ashlynn. They met in school. She was a Longhorn cheerleader. It’s all very Friday Night Lights.”
Solo stopped at our table to pour us some ice water before moving down the row of booths with his big water pitcher. The low buzz of conversation from other customers mixed with the clinking of silverware on plates and Pim’s periodic shouts into the kitchen to Bill. It was comfortable and warm, and I felt embraced by the newfound familiarity of the place.
“Why is Eddie weird about you? Is it homophobia or something different?”
He shrugged and used his index finger to move his empty sugar packets under the lip of the little plate holding the creamer pitcher. “Partly. He was always friends with the meanest guys, you know? The ones who took great pleasure in intimidating others. I assumed he’d grow out of it eventually, but then he got the job at the port and seemed to connect to the same type of guys at work that he always had at school. Rough, crass macho guys who don’t think much of men like me.” He inhaled deeply before looking up at me. “He’s the one who’s always asking me why I dress the way I do, why I pay so much for a simple haircut, and why I can’t be ‘normal.’ He also uses the f-word ‘as a joke.’ You know the type.” His long, slender fingers made finger quotes while he talked, and I wanted to reach across the table and take those fingers into my protective grip, hold him tightly and let him know not everyone felt that way about him.
I wanted to kill his brother Eddie. Men like that were fucking cowards and bullies.
“Doesn’t your dad call him out for it?” Coach V. had always been supportive of me being out. He wasn’t lovey-dovey about it or anything, but he hadn’t blinked about it during the recruitment and draft process. He’d also supposedly made it clear to the rest of the team before I showed up that there would be a zero-tolerance policy for any sexuality-related comments or use of slurs in the locker room.
That wasn’t to say he was marching in the next Pride parade. Now that I thought about it, much of what he said could have been lip service in order to keep one of his most expensive players happy. Whatever the reason, it had worked for the most part. But I wasn’t naive either. I’d learned early on there was a difference between the team accepting my sexuality on paper and in person.
“Yeah,” Mikey said. “He tells him to stop being a jackass. That’s it. My dad… well, Coach is Coach.”
I could tell he’d been close to telling me more but had remembered just in time that his dad was also my boss. I pressed my foot against his again. “Did you ever hear about the time Antone offered to set me up with his brother-in-law for one of the team barbecues?”
His head snapped up. “Jalen? Dude. That man is hot as hell. I hope you said yes.” He seemed to realize what he’d said, and his interest turned to scorn. “I take it back. I don’t want to think of you with Jalen Key and his perfect body. Fuck that.”
Antone’s brother-in-law was an attorney with the body of a professional CrossFitter. He was smart as hell, but he wasn’t the least bit humble. About anything.
I took another sip of coffee, trying to savor it since I knew Mikey wouldn’t let me have a refill. “I did say yes, but then Coach shot me a look and suggested I save the blind date for another time and place. When I pushed back, he went on to explain it wouldn’t be fair to anyone to have a first date take place in such an intimidating situation. I had to agree. It wasn’t until later I remembered that Antone and Lacey had brought Jalen to plenty of team parties before.”
Mikey’s nostrils flared, and annoyance simmered in his eyes. “Yeah. That. That’s how Dad is. He’s all supportive and shit until it’s actually going to affect him and his reputation.”
“Has he been that way to you when you’ve brought guys around?”
Mikey let out a laugh. “It would take an act of god for me to bring a guy around my family. I’d have to be pretty sure he was the one. He’d have to love me like crazy in order to put up with the goon squad and my dad.”
Pim appeared with our breakfast plates as the word “love” echoed in my head. Falling in love hadn’t really ever been on my radar for this time in my life. This time in my life was about loving football and taking advantage of the opportunity while I could, while my body allowed it. My father had always drilled it into my head that “There’d be time for girls later, son.” But hearing the l-word spoken in Mikey’s voice did something to me.
I wanted to love and be loved. I wanted my life to be about more than my job. When Mikey talked about relationships and life outside of football, I began to realize how much I was missing. Time was passing, and life was short.
I pressed the side of my foot against his again and started eating.
12
Mikey
I had a massive crush on my boss. It was fine. Totally fine. This kind of shit happened all the time, right? Like… like when I had a crush on my last boss and jumped into bed with him like a dick slut.