Page 53 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

Michael Cunningham

I’m parked outside the restaurant where Kyle and I are supposed to meet and talk.

And upon arriving, I realize it’s the very same place he took me on our first date.

I wonder if he’s gonna get that secret room for us again.

I want a private conversation as much as he would, but I think our reasons are different.

I want to talk about what happened, why he really walked out on me—to see if any sort of relationship is still possible.

But does he want a private room because he’s still too afraid for the world to see us together? Probably.

But as I wait in my car, scrolling through the ESB article that Amani sent me, maybe I’m wrong.

The Monday before the Championship Game, the NFO has this big media blitz day where key players are asked all sorts of questions, ranging from their skills to their sex life.

Last year, Kyle was asked if he was gay, which ultimately led to us meeting.

And this year, Kyle was asked the same question.

Except he gave the craziest response. Robyn wrote here that he put the question back on the reporter, likely Ricardo, and openly criticized the public for being so concerned over someone’s sexuality.

I don’t know why he said this or what this means, but this does not sound like the man who would abandon his boyfriend to escape into a life of normalcy. I think he’s changed.

Pretty soon, I see Kyle’s Cadillac pull up, and my insides immediately twist around themselves. I can do this.

He steps out of the car, and if I wasn’t already sitting down, I would have collapsed to the ground.

He’s wearing a suit I’ve never seen before: a navy three-piece with a floral tie and light blue pocket square.

It’s freshly creased, and it fits perfectly.

I can see the way his muscles tug on the fabric, wishing to be torn free.

His wavy hair effortlessly flows back over his head, and his beard is long, full, and sexy.

Yet all I’m wearing is a nice sweater and some slacks.

He looks around, and I lower myself. Which is ridiculous.

He knows what my car looks like. But, to my relief, he doesn’t spot me and instead walks up to the black facade of the building.

An older man comes out of the restaurant and opens the door to the secret hallway, the same way I entered last time.

Kyle disappears, and the man stands there.

Looks like we’re eating in private after all.

I still don’t know what to make of this whole thing.

My phone buzzes. It’s Kyle.

“I’m inside,” he says. “Teddy will let you in through side door.”

I release the deepest breath I’ve taken all day, then open my car door. Here goes nothing.

By the time I’m inside, I feel my heart beating in my throat. And when Teddy leads me to my private room with Kyle, my heart nearly tears itself out of my chest when he locks eyes with me and smiles.

He comes to me, quickly but elegantly, and wraps his bear arms around me.

I hold onto his shoulder blades and take in the smell of his leathery cologne mixed with his own scent that acts as my very own aphrodisiac.

I find myself breathing rapidly, taking in as much of his smell as I can.

Melting into him. Nearly tearing up finally being so close to him. God, I’ve missed him so fucking much.

He pulls away and holds one of his huge hands on my cheek.

His thumb strokes me gently, and it takes all my strength not to claim it with my lips and tongue.

Behind him, a fire crackles, and tables around us are covered with candles.

The lights above are low enough that Kyle’s face is the only thing I can see clearly.

“It’s so good to see you,” he says.

God, his voice.

Then I panic.

This is the same man who walked out on me with no explanation. Who ignored my calls and texts for weeks until I just gave up all together .

I pull away from him. “Hi,” I say, wiping my face, getting his touch off me. But his smell still lingers in my nostrils.

He gestures to the table. “Sit with me?”

“That’s why I came,” I say, scratching my arm.

He pulls out my chair for me, then pushes it in at the exact right time like a gentleman.

I will not swoon no matter how swoon worthy he is right now.

I can’t forget what happened, and I can’t forget that words are where he does best. This is what Susan reminded me.

Watch their hips, never their lips. It’s what he does that matters.

“I don’t see a point in delaying it,” he says, sitting down. He looks me right in the eyes, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. “I am so, so sorry.”

The intensity of his gaze, his genuine gaze, makes me squirm.

“You walked out on me, Kyle,” I say. “And you never said a word to me after. Do you understand how damaging that is to me? To us?”

Our waiter, Charles, comes out and sets some bread on the table along with an appetizer. Good. At least Kyle’s ordered in advance so we won’t be interrupted.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how damaging it was,” Kyle says, shaking his head. “What I did was wrong.”

I recall the intense feelings of abandonment that threatened to tear my body in half that night I laid in his mom’s kitchen, sobbing into her arms.

“Well,” I say, my chest on fire. “You need to imagine it. You have no idea what that was like for me. My parents abandoned me as a child with their neglect. Then time and time again I’ve had my heart broken by shitty men who didn’t know what they wanted.

Then I gained some self-respect and started dating out gay men, but even then the same problem persisted.

For the life of me, I couldn’t find men who were emotionally available.

“So I finally decided to focus on myself and my recovery. And I fucking blossomed. I gained so much confidence in myself, learned so much about who I was. This was when I rediscovered my love for writing for Christ’s sake.

“And then you came along. I just so happened to show up on the doorstep of my greatest sexual fantasy. But I kept myself at bay, not letting myself catch feelings. I figured you were straight, and even if you weren’t, I knew a closeted man in the NFO would not be emotionally mature enough for a relationship. ”

Kyle squirms in his seat, anxiously pulling on his beard hairs. I hit the nail on the head there.

“But then you fucking prove me wrong. First, you take an interest in me and what I like to read. Then you like my writing. You help me with it. You show me how sweet you can be. My walls come down. And then you fucking come out to me. Meanwhile, here I am realizing that I don’t just think you’re hot.

You have me realizing that I like you. Then, for the love of God, we have sex, and it’s transcendent.

We start dating—in secret, of course, but we do.

“And then you pull away. Slowly but surely. Then it’s November, and here I am thinking I’m gonna have to break up with you.”

By now, tears leak out of my eyes, but I only notice once they cool down my hot cheeks.

“And what do you do? You prove me wrong. Again. On Thanksgiving, you take me into your home. I’m part of your family. I feel safe and loved in ways I haven’t in years, maybe ever. And then what do you do?”

Kyle cringes. “I abandon you.”

“Yes,” I say, thrown off that he took the words out of my mouth.

“You abandon me. You throw everything we ever had in the garbage. You leave me to sift through every interaction we’ve ever had, turning each one over and denying that any of it was ever any good.

You leave me to realize that everything you did and said was a lie. ”

He leans forward. “It wasn’t a lie. None of it was.”

“Which wasn’t a lie, Kyle?” I ask. “You saying you loved me? Or you running away?”

He clenches his fist and chews on his lips. “It’s not that simple.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Great. So you invite me here to tell me it’s complicated.”

“Michael,” he says, like a teacher scolding a child. His sternness chills my body.

“What? Didn’t want to hear what I have to say? ”

“Of course I did,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

“But I also wanted to talk about how I want to give us another chance. Damnit, Michael. I fucking love you, you know that? I never stopped thinking about you when I ran away. Hell, I couldn’t.

You stuck to my mind like fucking glue. And when you stopped reaching out, my heart felt like it would burst.”

“Then why’d you do it?” I groan. “Why did you just walk away from me? From what we had?”

“Because I was a coward without integrity,” he says. “I didn’t know what I stood for. But now I do.”

I sigh through my nose. “And that is?”

He leans forward and rests his elbow on the table. To our side, another table sits with a bunch of gorgeously expensive looking food that the waiter has been bringing out. Any other day, I’d be seizing the opportunity to eat such delicacies. But I’m the furthest thing from hungry right now.

“Being true to what’s inside me,” he says. “Not what other people say or want me to be. And that’s a man who is attracted to other men. A man who loves you and wants to be with you for the rest of his life.”

I slump back in my chair and fold my arms tightly, shaking my head.

Charles brings the last of the food out.

Plates cover the table next to us, just waiting to be eaten.

I hear the crackle of the fireplace, and I can make out the distant conversations from the main restaurant. But were cut off in here. Isolated.

“And what’s the rest of this life going to look like?

” I ask. “Staying cooped up in your mansion? Eating in private rooms at restaurants so we’re not seen?

Traveling to places where nobody would recognize us?

” I pause for a beat. “Getting you a fake wife so you can live a double life and have everything you want? The semblance of straightness and your gay little fleshlight on the side?”

Kyle almost snarls. “You are so much more to me than a fucking fleshlight. You are everything to me.”

“Then fucking treat me like it,” I say. “Flaunt me around. Don’t just take me to meet your family in private.

Take me to a football game. Put your arm around me.

Kiss me, for Christ’s sake. In front of anyone and everyone.

Don’t just tell me you love me. I’m tired of your words.

Show me that you love me. No matter who’s watching. ”

He’s looking solemnly down at his hands clasped on the table. Then he meets my eyes. “And if I told you that that’s my plan?”

My heart skips a beat. “What?”

“I want you to come to the Championship Game,” he says.

“As a friend or boyfriend?” I ask. “Or are you still with your girlfriend Jessica that the media’s been talking about?” This is it, the determining answer.

He sucks on his lip and fidgets with the callouses on his palm. It looks like he wants to say something, but can’t. Or won’t.

“Answer me, Kyle.”

“Just come to the Championship Game, okay? Please. I have a plan. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

I shake my head, feeling overheated inside my own body. I stand up, tears rushing to my eyes again. “So you are still with Jessica,” I say, almost laughing. “I can’t take your promises anymore. You’ve already disappointed me.”

I dart straight to our private room’s exit.

“Wait,” Kyle calls out.

I don’t know what possesses me with the strength to stop, because if it were solely up to me, I’d be in my car speeding to the highway by now.

I turn my body sideways to him, looking him in the eye.

He stands up and approaches me but gives a respectable distance. “I’ll email you the tickets,” he says. “Just please, please come to the Championship Game. It’s the only way I can show my love for you.”

I sigh, then glance up at him one last time. “You know, I got a literary agent,” I say.

Kyle’s face goes from solemn to beaming. “Babe, that is so wonderful.” He steps closer, but I gesture for him to stop.

“And after I talked with them, I wondered: maybe Kyle’s the secret ingredient to my writing. You were what inspired me to write more emotional connection between my characters, after all .

“But after today, I realize that I don’t need you. I’ve just needed myself. Because my whole life, I’ve pined after men who have never truly loved me back. And today, after this conversation, I think I’ve finally outgrown this habit.”

Kyle sighs, and his shoulders sink. “Please,” he says. “Give me this chance.”

I shake my head. “Goodbye, Kyle.” And then I exit through the private hallway, doing my best to compose myself.

Sometimes it’s the hardest things we do that end up for our best.