Page 62 of One-Time Shot
“Do you think he’ll be okay? Did he want to come out?”
“No. Not yet. Bad timing. New contract. I—he—oh, Layla…I don’t want to ruin his life,” I cried, swiping tears away.
“You haven’t ruined anything, Mal,” she replied sternly. “Whoever snapped that pic probably thought they were being funny. I’m going to find out who’s responsible and wring their fucking necks.”
I stared, unseeing. My mind was pure chaos, a mire of recriminations and accusations. No, I hadn’t taken a selfie and posted it for public consumption, but I was responsible.
“I have to fix this.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
And I didn’t. I only knew that this couldn’t be how we ended.
CHAPTER21
JETT
The rushof game-time adrenaline was like nothing else. Except maybe post-win adrenaline.
Yep, the Bears won again, and tonight, I’d been part of the action. No goals, but I had three assists and had played some good defense. Best of all, my knee hadn’t bothered me at all. I’d ice once I got home.
But first, we had a two-hour bus ride back to campus.
I slipped into a seat and slid toward the window, ignoring the curious looks from the guys in the rows behind me.
Ty flopped next to me, stretched his long legs into the aisle, and glanced around. “What are you staring at, Pritchard?”
Pritchard shook his head. “Uh…nothin’.”
Ty and I shrugged and settled in as the bus chugged along on I-90, dissecting the finer points of the game and generally shooting the shit. I hadn’t checked my cell yet, but I wasn’t going to with Ty nearby. The guy didn’t understand personal boundaries.
Neither did Langley.
He turned from the seat in front of us. “Uh…Erickson, you might want to check your socials.”
Ty and I exchanged glances. He pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled, and…froze. “Oh, shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
He handed the cell over. “Fuck, Jettster.”
The kiss cam revelation no one expected! Jett’s dating a man?
The comment jumped out—one of many attached to a blurry photo of Malcolm and me.
If I hadn’t been sitting, I would have passed out.
I couldn’t breathe.
At all.
Dramatic, right? Judge away. I was struck with a sudden fear that I’d lost everything I’d just won. Gone in a click with thousands of likes and even more comments of the “Is Jett Erickson really gay?” variety. And by the subdued twitter permeating the bus, everyone knew it.
I returned Ty’s cell to him and dug mine from my pocket.
Hi, I need to talk to you, but I’m on the bus. I’ll call you when I’m home. We won, btw.