Page 40 of Catching Kyle

“Yeah,” Skye says, nodding, twirling her blonde hair with her finger. “You hit with this one.”

I lean back. “Really?”

“Really,” Amani says, looking at me above her glasses.

“It’s just so much more compelling than what you’ve brought in before,” Skye says. “Like I’m so invested in your main character. I need to know what happens next.”

My chest lights up with excitement. “Oh, my god. Thank you.”

“Where did this come from?” Amani asks. “This is the zest I was talking about. It’s finally here.”

I remember Kyle’s genuine advice before I fled to the bathroom. “My other critique partner,” I say. “I got this comment from him.”

“Oooo,” Amani says, winking to Skye. “His ‘other’ critique partner.”

“He’s gonna run us out of business with the advice that he’s giving,” Skye says.

And as they give the rest of their feedback, I try to really internalize all the kind things they say about me, just as Susan instructed. It’s uncomfortable at first, because for so long, I’ve been attaching strings to my worth. As long as I do x, I will be worthy.

But this is different. This is me just learning that I am worthy—that I am good, learning through how others see me. It’s crazy that there’s really nothing I need to ‘do’. I just need to be.

And what’s even more wild is that if it weren’t for Kyle, I wouldn’t have gotten all these praises tonight. Not that Skye and Amani needed a specific reasonto say good things about me, but applying Kyle’s advice definitely brought out genuine adulation. I’m a little nervous that he’ll be upset with me after what I did to him last week, but more than anything I’m just excited to see him. As it turns out, I’m not fundamentally incapable of writing good romance. I know he didn’t say that, but I projected my insecurities onto him. So, tomorrow, I’ll apologize. And I can’t wait.

Chapter 16

Kyle Weaver

I’minthefoyerof my home pacing back and forth waiting for Michel to arrive, anxious as hell.

When I was back in Glamour Springs, I said the words in my head. I admitted that I liked men. That I was gay.

I pause to look again at the cover the Cat Sebastian book we had to read for book club, the one that made me come to my senses back in that lesbian bookstore. Since that day, I read it again, and it hit just as hard the second time.

Me. Kyle Weaver. A gay man.

I start pacing again.

All those feelings around women finally make sense. It’s not that I get all moody and down around them because I’m a misogynist, or because I’m mentally unstable or something. I just don’t swing that way. Like at all.

But I’m terrified for what this means now. All this talk of me being single for so long, the speculation as to why—it’s all true. Itisbecause I’m gay.

What does this mean for my new contract? For the NFO? For the Championship Game? My promise to Dad? Sure, some players in the NFO have come out in the past, but none have been as established as I am in my career. Plus, my whole goddamned reputation is the Southern heartthrob gentleman. How would me being gay change that? I’m getting my heartburn again thinking about it—no, these are emotions. I think this is anxiety.

Michael is gay. I’m thinking I can tell him about this. My whole situation. My agent Timmy is the only other one who knows in detail, but he doesn’t know the gay part. I need someone else on my side.

I freeze. But Ican’ttell Michael. With how many videos of his I’ve jerked off to over the years? Sheesh. If I were to break this secret, what’s stopping me from telling him that he’s the most handsome man on this planet? That I’ve fantasized about plowing those globes he has as ass cheeks? I may be able to say I’m gay but no more than that. I don’t know what to do about my football career, but I sure as hell am not ready to give it up just for some hot redhead with a mullet.

My doorbell rings, and I just about throw the book into the air. My heart is racing just like it does before kickoff.Breathe, Kyle. What did Dad use to say? He said things always work out for those who try. But Mama also told me he said integrity was the most important thing we have. And I definitely don’t have integrity the longer I keep this secret.Gah!I can’t keep teetering back and forth. I gotta just open the door and deal with what’s coming. Which sure as hell won’t be me and Michael.Damnit.

I open the door, and Michael’s there holding one of those big grocery tote bags. It looks like it’s filled. Now what the hell is—

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” he says, his shoulders curling into his chest, which he does to make himself small. I used to like it—I thought his shyness showed how into me he was. But it just makes me think he doesn’t like himself. And I hate that.

“Sorry?” I ask.

“For how I acted last week,” he says. “I was a total jerk.”

Jeez. After all that’s happened, last week feels like a year ago. I have a hazy memory of him getting upset after I gave him the feedback about his novel.