Page 46 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

Michael Cunningham

I watch the flickering lanterns until my eyelids get heavy. This trip has been nothing I expected and instead everything I wanted.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a Thanksgiving where I’ve had so much fun.

Where I’ve felt so loved. I had a great friendsgiving with my writing group friends back in college, but even that pales into comparison.

Who would have thought that I’d spend the holiday with one of the greatest football players of his time, his mom, and two gay country men?

When I catch myself nodding off, I realize I’ve been alone for a long time now. Kyle had to take a call with his agent, but he isn’t back yet.

I glance back in the cabin behind me, expecting to see him there. But he’s nowhere inside.

I furrow my brow and stand up. I look all around, but I don’t see him.

I open the sliding glass door. “Kyle?” I call out. Nothing.

I get uneasy. I pull out my phone and try to call him. It rings until it goes to voicemail. Maybe he’s up at his mom’s helping her with something. That would make sense.

I slip through the cabin and make my way up the hill toward his mom’s house. I glance back at the lake and see all the lanterns floating peacefully about.

When I lit our lantern, I wished for a peaceful love with Kyle Weaver. Before I came on the trip, I thought that these would be our last days. But after this wonderful time, I don’t see how our relationship could end. I’m hoping that wherever the wind takes the wish, it’s fulfilled.

I reach the back door, and it’s already cracked open. And that’s when I get an uneasy feeling. I slip inside, and before I can even shut the door, I hear the front door slam.

“Honey,” someone says. It’s Linda, Kyle’s mom.

“This isn’t good, ma,” he says, his voice shaky. He’s crying. I would show myself, but this seems like a private moment, one I would disrupt if I made myself known. Yet I can’t just leave. I have to hear this. So I stay in the kitchen and eavesdrop.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Timmy’s what’s wrong.”

“Your agent?”

“He knows everything, ma. About me and Michael.”

My stomach turns over itself, and I have to brace myself against the counter.

“What do you mean he knows?”

“The NFO doesn’t like queers,” he says. “It’s not like Michael and I were public. But he found us out. And now…”

Now what? I want to yell. Water drips onto my shoe, and that’s when I realize I’m crying.

“How did this happen?” Linda asks.

Kyle sniffles. “He found my fake girlfriend on a date with someone else—a woman—and that’s when he pieced it together. He got more intel from that reporter Ricardo about her and Michael’s history as a pornstar, and then it was obvious.”

My shock turns into rage as I grip the counter until my knuckles turn white. Amani said she would be faithful to Michael to not arouse suspicion. Did she just jeopardize this whole thing?

“Oh, baby,” she says. There’s silence, and I assume they’re hugging.

“And now,” Kyles says, and I can hear him suck on his lips to stop a sob. “We have to break up.”

My chest caves in on itself, and my face gets white hot .

“If I’m to stay on the team, then I gotta find a woman. And I gotta win a Championship Game. So Timmy’s gonna find me a real girlfriend this time.”

My knees weak, I slump against the counter and let myself slide to the floor. Miss Beautiful finds me and starts rubbing against me, purring. She might be the only thing keeping me from losing it entirely.

“But honey,” she says. “He’s your boyfriend. You love him. Are you really willing to give him up just to finish out this season?”

Yeah , I say to myself, clenching my fists so hard they tingle. Are you really willing to give me up?

“You don’t understand,” he says. “When Timmy was talking to me, I swear it was like I was ten years younger, talking to Dad again. I swear I could hear his voice, and I remembered him saying what it means to be true to myself. What it means to have integrity.”

“You think integrity is going back in the closet?” Linda asks.

“It’s not living two lives, that’s for sure,” Kyle says. “I can’t keep dating Michael if I want to live an honest life.”

“Honest to who, though, Kyle?” Linda asks. “Because you’re not being honest to yourself if you deny who you truly are.”

Kyle groans. “You don’t get it!” he shouts. “Michael is an amazing guy. You think so. Jimmy thinks so. But it just can’t work between us. And he deserves someone who can make it work.”

“No,” I whisper to myself. “This isn’t happening. No, no, no, no.”

“So what now?” Linda asks. “Plan to tell your boyfriend you’re leaving him after a wonderful Thanksgiving?”

There’s a silence, and it feels like my entire body is filled with lead.

Listening here, I almost feel disembodied. Like I’m a ghost imagining this whole interaction. But if I move, then I remind myself that I’m corporeal. That I’m here, alive. And that I’ve just heard my boyfriend say he’s breaking up with me.

“I’m going back to Portland,” Kyle says.

“I have everything I need with me.” I hear the front door open, and it feels like my heart is tying itself in knots.

He must have packed a bag while my back was turned to him.

All while I thought how I was a fool to consider breaking up with him.

And now he’s breaking up with me, and he doesn’t even have the balls to tell me.

“So you’ll just abandon your boyfriend here?” she asks. “And leave me to clean up your mess?”

There’s a beat long pause, and then…

“I’m sorry, ma.” I hear the front door shut, and then Kyle’s rental car starts.

“What’s that?” Linda says out loud.

She makes her way to the kitchen to find me huddled against a cabinet on the floor, weeping into my hands.

“Oh, my sweet child.” She lowers to the ground and wraps her arms around me, and Miss Beautiful scurries away. “Did you hear all that?”

I nod.

“My damned boy,” she says. Her head rests on my shoulder, and I can feel her shaking it.

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” I say, lifting my face from my hands.

“He had been so distant the past few months. But something in him changed. He was his old self again. Present. Before this, I even thought that I was going to break up with him. But he was so emotionally available that I let go of the whole idea. But now…”

Sobs pour through me, preventing me from speaking.

“My son is a troubled man,” Linda says, rubbing my arms. “For the longest time, I’ve suspected that he was gay. He never told me, but I had that feeling. And seeing you was like seeing the light through the clouds. It was finally confirmed.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “He never said anything about being gay? Or us?”

“He mentioned you were a friend, but I connected the dots.”

Friend. Sheesh.

“I should have known this would happen,” I say. “I always fall for guys who aren’t emotionally available. And no matter how much I’m hurt, I keep coming back for more. I’m cursed. I’m a fuckup.”

She shakes me. “Look at me.”

Startled, I obey, and there’s raw determination in her eyes .

“You are not cursed. You are not a fuckup. You are broken. Hurt. Betrayed. But that does not mean you can’t bounce back from this.”

“But Linda,” I say, using all my strength to hold my quivering lip.

“I love him. I’m in love with a man who walked out on me and didn’t have the decency to say goodbye.

A man that I tried to keep at arms-length because I knew he was emotionally unavailable.

And yet I still let myself fall for him.

I’m the least self-respecting man out there. ”

“And you listen to me, Michael. You and I have spent a lot of time together today. I’ve gotten to know you. There is a light within you. A bright one. And I won’t have you sitting on my dirty kitchen floor putting yourself down like that.

“You’re right. Kyle is not emotionally available, as least as available as I hoped he would be at his age.

But that is not your fault. I can see that you’re the kind of person who loves, and loves, and loves.

But what you need to learn how to do is direct that love to yourself first and foremost. This is what I had to do when I left Kyle’s father. ”

Her words sound just like my sponsor’s right after I ran into David.

“I’ve been trying to do this for years,” I say. “Why isn’t it working?”

She releases me and leans against the cabinet just like I am. “Maybe it has been this whole time,” she says. “And this was the push you needed to bring your self-love to the next level.”

I sigh, taking her words in. They ring true, but my mind is too muddled and angry and sad to really internalize them.

“But I love him,” I say, fresh tears falling. “And he’s gone.”

She grabs my hand and holds it. “But you’re right here,” she says. “You’re all that you have.” She squeezes my hand. “So, love that man first.”

* * *

When I make it back to Portland, I’m in a sleepy haze.

Kyle left me. Without saying a word. He told his mom everything, and lucky for her I was eavesdropping, so she didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news.

When I got back to the cabin that night, I tried calling him.

Messaging him. But nothing went through.

So I laid on that couch we made love on the night before, smelling his sweet skin on the leather, praying for sleep and to never wake up.

Each time I glanced out the window and saw all those lanterns on the water, I wanted to throw up.

So much for my wish coming true. Once the sun came up, Silas was kind enough to drive me to the airport.

“He’s just figuring out who he is,” Silas said on our drive. “I know how hard it can be when you’re from these parts. He may come around.”

I remember scoffing. “Yeah, whatever.”

Now I lay on my bed, the sun setting through the window, and my chest feels like it’s tearing itself in half.

I scroll through my phone. I could re-download a hookup app and get some shitty sex. But the thought of that just makes me feel worse. Already, I’m craving Kyle’s body—his smell, his touch, his taste.

And I’ll never have it again.

I’m mindlessly opening and closing the same apps, the same way you open and close the fridge, hoping something good will magically materialize.

I scroll through my contacts, looking for someone to talk to. I scroll past Susan’s name and my stomach sinks. I’m not ready to talk to her right now. But once I hit Amani’s name, all my aimless sadness compresses into white hot anger. I press on her contact and call her.

“Hey, Michael,” she says happily.

“You sabotaged us,” I say.

There’s a pause. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” I say. “You’ve been seeing someone else. And you’ve been caught.”

I can practically hear her jaw dropping. “Oh no.”

I sit up in the bed, unable to contain the rage in my body. “How could you do this to us? To me?”

“Michael, I’m sorry. Angie—that woman from the bar—she reached out and said she ghosted me because she had life things going on. She wanted to talk, so we met up. I was lonely, Michael. And we were discreet. I didn’t think we’d get caught. ”

I groan, my chest tightening. “But you were caught, and you knew what getting caught would cost us. Why did you agree to being Kyle’s beard if you knew you couldn’t do it?”

“Because I also have a love life, and I couldn’t shut it down when a beautiful woman came knocking on my door,” she says.

“I agreed to help because I could see how much you and Kyle loved each other, and I knew how much your past with bad guys haunted you. But I have a past that haunts me too. I deserve love and healing as well.”

I breathe hot air out of my nose, my eyes stinging. I don’t know what to say.

“I didn’t foresee this all happening,” she says. “There was no way to predict I’d get lonely or that Angie would reach out. But I was being careful.”

“Clearly not careful enough,” I say. “You could have just waited, Amani. But no. And now Kyle’s broken up with me. His agent discovered the whole ruse. They’re finding him a real girlfriend now.”

Shock fills the space between us like a bad smell fills a room.

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” I say. “And now Kyle won’t even talk to me. So thanks for ruining this.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice shaky. “I didn’t—”

“You know, I don’t really want to hear what you have to say. I’m done with this conversation.”

And then I hang up.

Amani tries to call me again, but I decline it. She texts, but I just delete the messages. Then, the sun finally setting, I burrow myself under my covers and shut the world out.