Page 60 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

Michael Cunningham

The walk back to my private suite is the most eventful walk of my life.

Even though the guards take me through staff-only corridors and elevators, I’m still stopped by fans whenever they see me.

And they’re supportive. Kind. Exactly the opposite of what I expected.

I do get some dirty looks, but most share about how happy they are that the NFO is finally accepting gay people, and I share my enthusiasm in return.

But that isn’t the only reason I’m happy.

Kyle showed me his love, and we’re back together.

By the time I reach my private suite, I’m pinching myself. For years, I’ve thought that it was only possible for me to fall in love with emotionally unavailable men, and that Kyle would be the last string of evidence to prove this curse.

But he didn’t.

Instead, in the bravest demonstration I could imagine, he showed me he loved me. In front of millions and millions of people. That’s a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid of it either. In short, an emotionally available man.

When I open my private suite door, Zendaya and Tom Holland pop out of their door to congratulate, and I swear now I have to be dreaming. But when Amani, Skye, and Josue wrap their arms around me, I know that this is indeed sweet reality.

“Congratulations,” Amani says, squeezing me tight .

“Okay,” Skye says. “But now you need to write something like this. Because I don’t know what can top it.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Josue says.

I pull away from them, both laughing and crying.

Jessica approaches me and gives me a light hug. “I’m happy for you.”

I squeeze her hand. “You’re a true hero here,” I say. “You chose to be so kind to Kyle. And me. Thank you.”

She blushes. “He’s a nice guy, and you seem like one too. It was the right thing to do.”

I squeeze her hand one last time, then take a moment to stand there and bask in the joy, Sloane Michaels singing in the background. Here I am: with friends I call family, now with a boyfriend. And it’s so much better than I could have imagined back in college.

“Well,” Amani says. “Now all that’s left is for the Tigers to win.”

My stomach jumps. “Shit. I forgot about that.”

“Come on,” she says gesturing to our seats. “Let’s go cheer on your boyfriend.”

I smile at the word. Because now I can actually say out loud that Kyle Weaver is my boyfriend.