Page 23 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

“Well, they help, but I can’t live off what I post,” I say.

I take a sip of my spritz, and I taste that nostalgia of staying home from school again, relaxing when I’m supposed to be working.

And I’ve realized that this entire dinner has either been me skeptical of Kyle or talking about my shitty job that’s about to end.

If this is really a date like Kyle says it is, we should treat it as one.

“But enough of that,” I say. “I’ll figure it out. I have something else important to tell you.”

He raises his brow, intrigued, as he takes a sip of his drink. This has only been his second sip, and the glass barely has a dent. I love that, at least so far, he doesn’t seem to have a drinking problem. Unlike David.

I shrug, almost embarrassed. “I think I’m a fantasy writer now.”

His face lights up. “No way. Did Brandon Sanderson finally get to you?”

I nod. “And not just him.”

I list off all the fantasy books, explaining why I love each. And Kyle just stares at me, rapt. And when I tell him what I’ve been writing, he nods his head vigorously.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “That’s a banger idea. Tell me what you have so far.”

By the time our food arrives, Kyle and I are still talking so much about it that we barely dig into our food.

“Okay,” he says. “Enough talking. Just for a minute though. We need to try our food.”

I have half a whole chicken with rice pilaf, while Kyle got some gourmet steak burger.

“I would make fun of you for ordering off the kids’ menu, but that’s the best-looking burger I’ve ever seen. It looks better than what I got.”

He starts cutting into it. “Then you gotta try it.” He slices off a generous piece and puts it on a small plate, then slides the plate to me .

“Well with a piece that big, you need some of mine.” I pull off the chicken wing and put some rice on a small plate and give it to him.

We both try each other’s dish at the same time, before we even try our own.

“Oh my god,” I say, setting down the other half of my piece of burger. “That’s the juiciest burger I’ve ever tasted.”

Kyle’s silently chewing.

“Is it bad?” I ask.

He looks up at me, deadpan. “The only thing better is your idea.”

I blush. “Oh shut up.”

And he just smiles.

As we continue eating our own food this time, I realize that we haven’t talked about Kyle at all.

“Let’s talk about the elephant in the room,” I say.

He looks up at me, almost worried.

“I mean that you’re one of the top players out there,” I say. “What’s that like?”

He takes a big gulp of his water. “It’s like any other celebrity gig,” he says. “Except I get to play the sport I love.”

“It hasn’t gotten old?”

He furrows his brow and shakes his head. “Football never gets old. I love the rush, the strategy, the skill and endurance required. The camaraderie, how it brings everyone in the nation together. It’s awesome.” Then his face darkens, and he sighs. “But I might never play again.”

I set down my fork and look at him. “What do you mean? Is this your last season or something? From what I know about football, you’re like essential to the Tigers. And you’re one of the best players the NFO has seen.”

He laughs. “You would think so with how many touchdowns I’ve scored.”

“Then what’s the problem? If you want to play, what’s stopping you?”

He sighs. “People are… talking. Don’t know if you saw my press interview before the Championship Game.”

I shake my head.

“Bless your heart,” he says. “But let’s just say that after that, people started to wonder which team I play for, if you catch my drift. ”

I don’t. “You mean the Tigers?”

He blows a raspberry. “No. They’re wondering if I’m gay.”

My stomach sinks. He meant that team. Besides his therapist, I think I’m the only one who knows he’s gay.

“My team’s management says that if I don’t find a girlfriend, I won’t be able to play with them next year.

And they’re my only real shot at winning the Championship Game.

” He throws his napkin on the table and wipes his face with his hands.

When he lowers them, his face looks haggard and worn, as if he’s aged a year in this admission alone.

“That’s why I wanted to go to the book club in the first place.

It was the plan I came up with my agent—to find a girl there.

” He chuckles to himself. “But with your help I got out of that.”

My chest tightens. His plan is to find a girl—our weekly little one-on-one book club was his way out of this.

But Kyle is gay, right? He admitted it to me.

Or is he going back in the closet to preserve his career?

If he’s going back in the closet, then isn’t this date a phenomenal mistake?

Dread pools in my chest as the realization sinks in.

I promised myself no emotionally unavailable men.

But I may be sitting across from the most unavailable person in the country.

“So what are you going to do?” I ask. “I mean, me helping you dodge book club can only last so long.”

He looks up at me, his shoulders sunken in defeat. “I don’t know.”

I don’t know. Not ‘I’m gonna find a girlfriend’, but not ‘I’m gonna come out’ either. I sigh to myself. I was a fool to think any of this could go anywhere.

Before either of us can say anything else, Charles returns with our check. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Kyle looks at me, but I just look away. Kyle shakes his head.

“You ready to get going?” he asks once he’s paid.

I shrug, unable to process the bomb that Kyle just decided to drop at the end of dinner. “Yeah, I think it’s best that we go.”