Page 50 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

Kyle Weaver

It’s a snowy day in Seattle, but I’m unfazed. I’m in the locker room with my fellow players, stretching and getting each other hyped up. Today we face off against the Seattle Soldiers in the playoffs. And if we win, it’s onto the Championship Game.

Ever since I told Jessica, my girlfriend who is no longer really my girlfriend, everything, football’s taken on a new meaning for me. I’m no longer playing out of fear that I’ll disappoint my father. I’m finally playing it for me.

But what’s got me more excited than anything is that Michael Cunningham, the man I truly love, could be in the stadium watching me right now.

After I worked with Robyn to publish an article to dismiss the lie that Amani cheated on me, Amani agreed to meet with me so I could apologize to her in person.

And seeing her in the flesh did wonders on my heart.

It was so nice to see her smile and laugh again, to hear about her life.

And most of all, to get her forgiveness.

I’m hoping that today the same can happen with Michael.

I miss him so much that my body aches, and it’s definitely not just the sex I miss.

I miss him—his smile, his voice, his words.

He’s the best guy a man could ask for. I want him back, and I’m not going to fuck it up this time.

By the time we have to rush onto the field, my heart is racing. But I don’t know which is making me more nervous: the game, or the fact that Michael is watching and looking for me right now .

As we jog onto the field, I look up to the booth I rented out for Amani and Michael after memorizing the location like the back of my hand. Close enough to see into, I see Amani and Jessica jumping and waving. I wave back. Next to Amani, I expect to see Michael.

But he’s not there.

Maybe I’m wrong. I slow down and try to look closer. Amani is standing next to some woman I don’t recognize. She puts her arm around her, and my chest sinks to the ground. Yeah, Michael’s not here.

Someone bumps my shoulder. “Come on, man.”

It’s Ezekiel. I jog just behind him onto the field. It’s time to play one of the most important games of my career, but I couldn’t be more out of it. What’s the point, after all? Michael, the man I wanted to see the most, is not here.

* * *

When the game is over, Tigers players are hugging one another. We’re cold and tired, but we won. Next stop: the Championship Game.

But as we rush into the locker room, even the contagious post-game high can’t get my mood up.

I know I should be happy. I played a game for myself and not my father this time, and we still won.

I may have not played my best—no interceptions—but I played damn good defense.

So if all this is true, why do I feel like shit?

I slump down in front of my locker and start taking off my clothes.

I think I’m disappointed because, in my mind, this was my last chance to make things up to Michael.

He’s not answering my calls or messages, so I tried to talk to him through Amani.

And now that that hasn’t worked, I feel I’m out of options. I have no way else to get to Michael.

I feel the back of my eyes heat. The team is supposed to have a little party tonight, then talk about strategy for the Championship Game, honing our plans for if we play the Slayers or the Vanguards. But I don’t know if I have the energy for that.

All my gear off, I grab a towel and head to the shower. There has to be another way to get his attention—I don’t want to never see him again. I could go to his apartment. But I don’t want to creep him out. I don’t want to seek him out if he doesn’t want to see me.

I bang my fist against the shower tile, hot water warming my snow-chilled body.

Then I remember: there is one woman I know who has been able to help me think clearly, one of the first people I ever came out to. I haven’t met with her in a while, but maybe her counsel is just what I need.

Depressed and all but hopeless, I gather a little encouragement from the thought that, at the very least, I’ll be able to be fully honest with someone.

* * *

I sit across from Neeti, my old therapist, as she gathers her notes. Her office is in the same condition I remember, and she’s even burning the same incense as before—jasmine—bringing back memories of that first session together where I told her about my dad.

“It is so good to see you again, Kyle,” she says, her eagerness making her Indian accent a little stronger.

“It’s good to see you too,” I say, blushing.

“It’s been, what, a few months?”

“Something like that,” I say, scratching the back of my head.

“Just as we were really working through some issues with your father.”

“Yeah,” I say, almost embarrassed. “But I have made some headway on my own in terms of what’s going on in my head. I can bring you up to speed.”

She smiles. “I’d love to hear it.”

So I tell her everything, from our last session to me taking Michael to my hometown. To Timmy calling me and telling me the jig was up. To dating Jessica, then to Christmas. And up to now. At least most of the darkness is gone now that Jessica isn’t pressuring me to be intimate.

“My, my,” she says. “We could make your life a movie.”

I laugh, feeling winded from talking for so long. “Yeah.”

“So if I can ask,” she says, focusing up at a random part of the room. “You are trying to get Michael back?”

“Yes,” I say with all the seriousness I can muster .

“Are you sure?”

Something pricks my chest, and I start to get hot. “I’m sure,” I say. “Why? Do I not sound convincing?”

“Oh no,” she says, shaking her head. “You do sound convincing. The issue is that your past actions are not.”

I squint at her. “I beg your pardon?”

She adjusts herself in her seat. “What I’m about to say may be hard to hear.”

Now I adjust in my seat, feeling my body heat up further. “Lay it on me,” I say. “Not like I have any other options.”

“Most sessions you’ve come in expressing desire to either break free from your father’s legacy, or to make things right with Michael.

But most of the time, when it matters most, you fall back on what you least want and instead pick what you think you should do.

Think about Thanksgiving. You were all but confident that nothing could get in the way of your love for Kyle. And then your agent called.”

I let out a heavy sigh. Jimmy was right, after all. When things got hard, I chose to be ‘normal’ over who I loved.

“Yeah, I’ll admit that was not my strongest moment.”

“But that’s what I’m talking about, Kyle.

You’ve had a couple of really strong moments: your coming out, your decision to date Michael despite the outside pressures.

But your own moments of self-sabotage have proved far stronger.

It’s no wonder that Michael doesn’t want to talk to you.

He has no reason to believe that your words mean anything. ”

“Sheesh,” I say, wiping my sweaty forehead. “You weren’t kidding when said ‘hard to hear’.”

She scoots her chair closer. “You talk a lot about integrity, how it’s important to you.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m trying to have my own integrity. Not live up to my father’s.”

“Well,” Neeti says. “Integrity can mean a lot of things, but I think a clever definition of it is when your words, actions, and beliefs are completely aligned. Right now, all three are in different places for you. So, Kyle, what do you believe about your sexuality?”

I straighten. “I believe I’m a gay man,” I say. I pause. “And I know that I have feelings for Michael Cunningham and him only.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding. “Now, you express to me that you love him and will do anything to get him back.”

“Anything minus going against my morals,” I say. “But yes, anything.”

“Okay, those are your words,” she says. “Now your actions. How can you show Michael that you want him back?”

I lean back into the couch and rub my sweaty palms on my jeans.

“And for you, it must be something that is more powerful than all your moments of self-sabotage—a grander gesture than you running away without telling him.”

I sit there for a moment, perplexed. The Championship Game is in two weeks, and I’ve got a shit ton to do before then.

Appearances, meetings with reporters. I was barely able to squeeze this session in.

If I wanted to prove myself to Michael, I’d have to wait until at least a few days after the Championship Game. Unless…

I nearly jump off the couch with an idea.

“Sounds like you had an insight,” she says. “Care to share?”

I suck on my lip, nodding. “It’s crazy,” I say. “But I think it will be perfect.”