Page 23 of Find Me Again (KRK Security #3)

Neil's world, as expected, erupted quite spectacularly.

He'd had to turn off his phone two hours after the news had broken, and he only turned it back on for short periods of time in the next couple of days, to talk to his agent and the team's management, all of whom were braving the media storm in a pretty impressive manner while he was hiding out at his parents' house.

A part of him wished he could stay for longer surrounded by people who loved him and who didn't care about him being gay, but Neil knew it wasn't really an option. If he didn't want the press to come knocking on his parents' door, he needed to fly back to Savannah and take it from there.

He figured that flying first class after midnight was his best chance to escape the attention, but someone stepped up to him within five minutes of him arriving at the airport.

"Hello, there."

Ryan's voice made him spin around quickly enough to almost collide with his own suitcase, which would have been terribly embarrassing.

"How?" Neil asked in disbelief. Last time they'd texted earlier in the day, Ryan was heading to DC on a much earlier flight.

"A hat and a big jacket aren't enough to fool someone who observes for a living. Still, a pretty good disguise."

Neil chuckled. "Thanks, I guess. What are you doing here?"

"There's a snowstorm over DC, so we've got delayed twice so far." Ryan grimaced. "I hope we're in the air before dawn, but who knows."

"That sucks. I'm glad I got to see you one more time, though," Neil offered with a small smile.

It had been… tentative between them the last few days. They'd talked a bunch about what it would be like for Neil to be even more in the spotlight, and what it would mean to be long distance, but there had been times when it felt like it was all abstract, not any real plans.

One moment, Neil was coming unglued over the paparazzi, the media, and the on-line vitriol, and another, he needed the reassurance that yes, there could be a place for him in Ryan's life, even if they spent the majority of their time separate, since they both had careers they loved.

They both seemed to alternate between hoping they could have it all and fearing that they were bound to get hurt, which hadn't been the easiest, especially with everything else Neil had going on.

On the other hand, that hope had also been the shining light when things had gotten really hard. The mere idea that they could keep what they had and work on creating something lasting, made it easier for Neil not to lose himself in a downward spiral.

The soft smiles he'd gotten from Ryan, like this one right now, helped with that as well.

God , Neil wanted him so bad.

"I wish I could kiss you," he whispered, only to watch Ryan's eyes widen for a second.

"I wish you could kiss me, too," Ryan whispered back, glancing down at Neil's lips.

If they weren't in public…

But they were, so Neil had to resist the temptation. Somehow.

"And if I did, in theory, you wouldn't mind the possible media storm that followed?" he asked, like he'd asked about twenty times before.

With a sigh, Ryan shook his head. "It's not me we have to worry about."

Which, ouch , even though it was true.

"I'm sorry," Neil offered quietly, for yet another time, only for Ryan to shove his hands into his pockets and square his shoulders.

"It's after midnight and I'm tired, so I'll simply come out and say it all once again. I'm in this if you're in, but only if it's for real. I can handle paparazzi or whoever, if it's about them finding out about us. What I don't want is to live my life in fear of them learning that I l—like to put my mouth on you as often as possible," he finished on a lighter note, obviously softening the blow, and Neil loved him for that.

Loved.

He inhaled sharply, scrambling for something to say while his mind was blown away by that bombshell, but then the last boarding call announcement for his flight came over the speakers.

"I've got to go," he blurted out, only to watch Ryan's face shut down as he took a step back.

No, that wasn't right.

"I'll figure out how we can move on from me worrying about this," Neil hurried to add. "I promise."

Lifting his eyebrows, Ryan stared at him for a few long seconds before nodding.

"Great. I'm looking forward to hearing more about that."

"Okay." Neil's heart was still going way too fast because of his revelation, but he was relieved that they were parting on a good note despite his blunder. "I'll text you when I land."

"Right back at you. Unless I'm stuck here for all eternity."

"Then text me to come rescue you."

"You would, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Neil said with all the conviction he had in him. This, he had no doubts about. "You need me to rescue you from anything, I'm there."

Ryan bit his lower lip and glanced away.

"Go now or I'm kissing you no matter what."

Neil's fingers curled over the straps of his backpack out of their own volition, stopping him from reaching out.

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

He turned and walked towards his gate without looking back, but the image of Ryan standing there, staring after him, was imprinted in his mind now.

They would have to get used to the goodbyes like this if they were going to be together, which sucked, but—

Not if , he corrected himself. They were already together, after all, and since they were going to stay like that, they would have to get used to the goodbyes.

Neil wasn't accepting anything else from this point forward.

He loved Ryan. He'd fallen fast and hard, but the sudden realization actually gave him a clear answer about where he stood.

It was everything else that needed figuring out.

* * *

Money and fame could buy a lot of things, and one of them was a driver waiting for Neil at the airport, courtesy of his management. And it was especially nice after a night flight without any sleep. At first it was the storm they'd encountered, but then he started thinking, and planning, and freaking out over some of his plans, backing out and then coming back to them again and again.

By the time they'd finally landed in Savannah, he was exhausted, so he flopped onto the backseat of the car with a sigh of relief. At this hour it shouldn't take long to get him home, where his bed was waiting for him.

It was a few hours later, after he'd showered, napped, and drunk two big cups of coffee, that he was sitting in front of his bosses for the first time since he'd told them about Josh's threats and everything that came with it. There had been a bunch of calls and video conferences since then, but a small part of Neil had been afraid that actually meeting them in person would reveal that his coming out had changed things, after all. He'd expected at least one person would struggle to hide a grimace or refuse to shake his hand or… something.

Nothing like that happened, though.

It seemed like his life-changing decision had been nothing else but a situation to manage for them—and manage it they had.

Neil was, by far, mostly relieved, but he also found it a little disconcerting.

The head of PR, Rowena Swisher, walked them all through the media storm so far, with the analysis of trends and shifts of the conversation, which was sometimes going over his head, but he appreciated the way she summarized it into "shitty in parts, but also overwhelmingly positive in other parts, with the club's standing netting in the positive column ". Neil would take that any day, and, hopefully, so would the bosses.

"Now, we should really start putting Neil out there," she said next. "Holiday break was all and good, but if you stay hidden, it's going to come across like you're hiding on purpose."

Which wouldn't be incorrect, but also wasn't what they were trying to showcase here. They'd already gone over that before.

"Who is interested in an interview?" he asked, curling his hands around the mug he'd been offered.

The third coffee wasn't the smartest choice—he didn't need another reason to be jittery today—but he appreciated any small comfort in that moment.

Rowena snorted. "Who isn't? Every network has called, most of them with multiple offers, but we also have podcasts, radio, newspapers, magazines… You name it, they're interested. So it's more about who we want first, what's the order after that, and who we could cut without making it into a big thing." She paused. "I wish I could give you only fully supportive options, but you know I think you should do a range of outlets."

Neil knew. He'd heard the spiel before. They had fans all over the place, and they couldn't simply ignore those they didn't agree with, no matter what Neil might want.

However, he did have boundaries.

"I can do a few shows, but with restrictions we discussed," he said. "I'm not going where they would happily slaughter me and the team as the viewers cheered. I'm not trying to be an asshole," he added, looking around the room. "I'm really not. I just… I'm right about this."

"Yes, you are." Rowena gave him half a smile when he raised his eyebrows. "If you expected me to fight you on that, I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm all for choosing our targets and being smart about the diversification."

Fortunately, everyone else agreed, too, so they moved on to " clarifying the message" , which was more like being probed with a bunch of invasive questions.

"Any relationships, past or present, that we should know about?"

Neil stilled. All the hours of thinking, and talking, and more thinking, only for him to end up back here—knowing the answer, but still struggling with articulating it.

Rowena had been right, before. He was going to need a lot of interview prep.

"Yeah," he finally said, sitting up and leaning with his elbows on the table. "There is one. Past and present, as it turns out."

* * *

Neil watched people filling out of the office while he stayed back, pretending to check something on his phone until he could stand up and approach the general manager, who hadn't moved from his seat at the top of the conference table.

"Boss, I—" He hesitated. Maybe it was just his lot these days, repeating himself over and over. "I know I said it before, but I really appreciate you sticking with me."

Bednarski motioned for him to take the seat next to him and waited until Neil sat down before speaking.

"You did say it, and, really, you don't have to thank me again. It's not always easy to do the right thing, as you well know, but in this case, my decision actually was easy." The man sat back in his chair. "I'm sorry for ever giving you the impression that I would make it hard for you."

"No, I—" Neil paused and shook his head. It had never been about any one thing, any one person who would think badly of him or make his life hard. It had been all these things and all these people. "It's complicated."

The GM nodded. "I bet. Still, for what it's worth, while there are some secrets in the Vault that I hope never come out and I'd work hard that they wouldn't, yours has never been one of them. Never."

Staring down at the table, Neil prayed that his voice would not waiver or break.

"That's good to know," he finally said, only slightly hoarse.

"One more thing." Bednarski clasped his hands over his stomach. "I haven't heard any shit from your teammates so far and I hope it stays that way. But if you hear anything or, God forbid, experience anything even remotely homophobic, I want to know about it. And," he went on as Neil opened his mouth, "it's not only about you. It's about the team, as well. I don't want anyone spitting hate in the locker room, because that's only one bad day away from spitting shit out to the press. So no self-sacrificing bullshit, am I clear?"

"Crystal clear, sir."

"Good." Bednarski stood up. "Now go and get some rest before Rowena drags you out onto the media tour."

Neil said his goodbyes and left, feeling lighter than before and already planning on texting Ryan once he got home, but he only managed to take a couple of steps out of the building before there was a tall woman with a recorder, an envelope, and a determined look on her face right in front of him.

"Fans were shocked to hear your statement about being gay. What would you say to them?"

"No comments for now."

He tried to sidestep her, only to notice a man with a camera to his left.

Fucking hell.

"And what about the mysterious man you were photographed with?" She shoved a photo she was hiding behind the envelope at him. "Any comment on who he is?"

Neil couldn't help himself—he glanced at the photo, his heartbeat already picking up.

Someone had caught the two of them talking at the airport, Neil smiling and leaning close.

Ryan's face wasn't visible, at least, but Neil's stomach still rolled at the thought of people showing up at Ryan's house—or worse, at his work.

"Who is he?" the reporter pressed.

"A bodyguard," he blurted out, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.

While that was what Ryan did for a living, it shouldn't be the first thing Neil said about him to the press.

Once he was ready to talk to them about Ryan.

Which he still wasn't.

"He's your bodyguard?" The reporter raised her eyebrows. "So you're afraid something will happen to you now? Were there any threats against you?"

And for a split second, Neil was tempted, exactly like he'd been tempted on Boxing Day, on his way to tape the interview. It would be so easy to use the excuse now, to bluff his way through it and leave anything else for later.

The second passed, though, and he imagined Ryan watching it later on, which was bad enough. Then a realization hit him.

His instincts might still be in the closet, but he wasn't .

The cat was out of the bag, Ryan was ready to do this thing with him, so what did Neil have to lose?

He straightened his stance and met the reporter's gaze head on.