Page 21

21

BARRETT

The locker room was quiet that day.

Silence was typical before a game but after the news, tension sizzled in the air. Not only did my entire team think I was cheating on my partner, I’d been caught with the enemy. I didn’t have it in me to tell them the truth, nor did I know if it would matter. We all knew what a publicity nightmare it was. With the World Series within arm's reach, it was horrific timing.

We’d lost both games against the Thrashers, but still had a chance. If we worked hard enough, we would have a straight shot into the Division Series.

There was way too much pressure for me to waver now.

The coaches and team managers had gotten ahead of the drama, and we were under strict instructions not to discuss anything related to that picture until after our game against the Minnesota Bobcats. The last thing we needed was to get in our heads, but it was too late for me. The image was seared into my brain. I’d stared at it for hours, analyzing every detail, pouring over everything from that night.

Vicky and I went back to my rookie days, and I had full confidence that she hadn’t leaked anything to the press. It had to be someone else. I’d been so wrapped up in Stetson that I hadn’t even heard that damn drone. I hadn’t read the article long enough to see the name of the journalist. I hadn’t wanted to. If I had, I was liable to hunt them down and make their life a living hell. I didn’t need my name in the press any more than necessary.

I couldn’t say any thing to any one without talking to the teams publicist first. Hell, without talking to Stetson . And God, Levi. What was Levi going to think?

I smiled to myself. Thinking that Levi would be anything but concerned for me was laughable. He’d never made me feel like anything less than his top priority. Only now, I had to share that spot. Looking down at my cleats, my grin faded. Either this whole ordeal would send Stetson running for the hills, or off the rails. I glanced at my phone hanging out of my jacket pocket. Worrying my bottom lip, I contemplated calling him, but he’d already be on the field. So I grabbed the phone and called the only other person who could make me feel better in that moment.

“Bear…”

Eyes closed, I melted in his voice. That gruff, rumbling sound alone calmed the hornets shredding my stomach to pieces. “Hi,” I said softly, trying not to draw the attention of my teammates.

“Are you okay?”

I considered lying, but I didn’t have it in me. “Not really.”

“I can be on a plane in an hour.”

“No,” I answered instantly. “As much as I hate to admit it, it might make things worse. The whole baseball community thinks I’m a cheater.”

“We could tell the truth.”

“We can’t, Lee. Not without talking to Stetson.” Levi groaned, and I imagined him tugging at the ends of his hair like he tended to do when he was stressed. “If you’re going to go anywhere it should be to Orlando. If someone crosses him the wrong way?—”

“He’ll combust,” Levi finished.

“And I’d hate to be the people caught in the blast zone when he detonates.”

Levi sighed, admitting that I was right. I’d already heard some of the terms that were being thrown around about Stetson, and while “homewrecker” was among the milder ones, it still wasn’t nice. I didn’t imagine he would take kindly to someone saying it to his face. “I love you, Bear,” Levi said. “And I’ll say it to anyone who asks.”

A grin tugged at my lips. “I love you too, but maybe you should keep your head down until we meet with the publicists.”

We hung up, and I tucked my phone away. Rolling my neck and squaring my shoulders, I tied the laces on my cleats and stood up. It was time for me to put my game face on. A few players hung around, staring at me. “Can I help you?”

Every single one of them flushed a bright shade of red and suddenly found something more interesting to do.

God, this was going to be a long game.

* * *

We lost. Horrifically.

That wasn’t even the worst part. I couldn’t turn one way or the other without seeing the flash of a camera, or having some reporter jam a microphone in my face. It didn’t matter how many “No comments” I threw their way, they were relentless.

I hated journalists.

My teammates wanted nothing to do with me, and I couldn’t blame them. I’d be pretty pissed if the tables were turned, but I knew I had to be careful. Polyamory was beyond one of the most misunderstood situations in the world.

Back in the locker room, I collapsed into my seat and pulled my hat off my head. I needed a shower, desperately, but I found myself torn between braving the clubhouse showers or finding myself a hotel and holing down for the night. I didn’t want to stay with the rest of the team. Though getting anywhere unseen would be difficult without the team’s security.

Though I didn’t necessarily want to see the backlash, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through the seemingly endless notifications. There was only one name I wanted to see and there, buried amongst all the other bullshit, was a text from Stetson. Needing nothing more than to hear his voice, my finger hovered over the call icon.

“Swindon!”

Startled, my phone clattered to the floor. I glanced over my shoulder to see one of my coaches coming my way. It was odd, having a coach that was so close in age to me. Younger, actually. He’d retired after a career-ending injury, but his love of the game kept him in it. He was still fit, his black polo pulling tight across his chest. He tugged his Hellbenders team cap off his head and removed his sunglasses. “The publicist is ready for you.”

Of course she was. But I wasn’t ready for her, not ready to face the fire. Exhausted and no longer concerned about the shower, I grabbed my duffel and slung it over my shoulder, then retrieved my buzzing phone from the floor. It was Stetson again. “Later,” I said to my coach.

“Barrett, I wasn’t?—”

“I said, ‘later.’” Fuck, I wanted to cringe away from the tone in my own voice. I didn’t get mean or snappy very often, but it had been a long, exhausting day, and the last thing I wanted to do was figure out a statement. I wasn’t even sure what I’d say and in my eyes, putting out a lie was worse than hunkering down until I was ready.

Even my teammates had stopped what they were doing, gathering around to watch the show. “I’m exhausted,” I said in a much calmer tone. “In the last twelve hours, my private life has been exposed to the world for the second time in my career. Sue me if the only thing I want to do right now is hide. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. The publicist and those vultures crowding around outside the clubhouse doors will get their statements when I’m damn good and ready to give it to them.”

As I moved to leave, a hand found my bicep to hold me in place. I sighed, defeated. I should have known better. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, then motioned for Coach to leave the clubhouse ahead of me. Ignoring the skeptical look he threw me, I trudged behind him.

Like I’d actually try and make a break for it.

Ten years ago I would have. Hell, the urge lingered now. This whole ordeal had brought up old feelings that I thought had been long buried.

It was a jealous teammate that broke the news about me and Levi. True, I’d gotten bold. I’d been traveling so much that we hadn’t seen each other, and I thought everyone had gone home for the evening. I swept Levi into a dark corner of the clubhouse to steal a kiss… or five, and what do you know—someone hid in the locker rooms. As luck would have it, that player thought I’d stolen his spot in the starting lineup, and he wanted revenge.

I don’t think we made it to the car before our phones were lighting up with news alerts. Levi, being the saint that he was, took complete control of the situation. I’ll admit that I didn’t react in the best way possible. My solution was to hunt down the asshole who did it and put my entire career on the line to retaliate.

Lucky for me, Levi could read me like a book from day one. He put a stop to that before I could make a single move. Within twenty-four hours, he approached me with a lawyer and a suggestion to terminate my contract, signing with another agent immediately. The paperwork would be backdated to a week before the incident, and both Levi and I would have to give official statements that no inappropriate relationship was in place before the end of my contract.

The player that sold us out was removed from his team, and blacklisted in the world of pro sports.

As I trudged behind Coach to the press room, every single one of those heightened emotions sizzled beneath my skin. It took a lot of recalling my breathing exercises to keep my temper at bay. Thankfully, no press had been allowed inside the clubhouse. Outside of the last few players, the place was desolate.

Just before he opened the door, Coach paused and lowered his voice to avoid listening ears. “Do you want me to stay? Help with damage control?”

I shook my head, though I was grateful for the offer. “Thanks, but I got it.” I took a deep breath, silenced my phone, and slid it into my pocket. I would call Stetson back after this. I promised myself. “Hopefully this is quick so I can get out of here.”

Without another word, he pushed the door open and shut it behind me once I’d entered. The click echoed throughout the quiet room. Britney sat at the large table in the midst of the space. Engrossed in her tablet, she paid me no mind. I hovered near the door and waited to be addressed. I’m sure I wasn’t standing there for hours, but it sure as hell felt like it.

Britney had been with the team for a few years now. When you spent so much time in the public eye, scandals were anticipated. Whether the rumors were true or not, it was up to her to build the perfect image for the team. Standing at five feet tall— with the heels that I could hear clicking up and down the hall in my nightmares—you wouldn’t think much of her. Her blonde hair was always perfectly styled, and her makeup not a smudge out of place. The suits she wore were always impeccable. Then again, when you spend most of your career on camera, you invest in your appearance.

Though no one should have ever let Britney’s appearance fool them. Black widows envied the webs I’d seen her spin.

“Have a seat, Barrett,” she finally said, setting her tablet down. She removed her red-rimmed glasses, lightly dabbing at her eyes so as not to ruin her makeup. Then she surprised me, reaching behind her head and untwisting the tight bun at the nape of her neck. Soft, blonde waves fell over her shoulders. I could only watch as she combed through them with her fingers, breaking through the heap of product that glued the strands in place. She shifted, and the back-to-back thunks that sounded under the table had to be her shoes hitting the floor.

“We could always do this tomorrow if you’re tired,” I said, hoping she’d take the bait but knowing all the same that she wouldn’t. As I thought, icy gray eyes met mine across the table. I forced a laugh, shrugging my shoulders. “Worth a shot.”

“Trust me,” she finally said. “The last thing I want to do is still be at this clubhouse. I think even a straight woman would get tired of seeing your faces all day.”

In spite of everything, I snickered. Britney slid the tablet across the table and flipped it around to show me the screen. I fought the urge to look away. That photo would haunt me for the rest of my life, and the thought wrecked me. The image wasn’t a bad one. In fact, under different circumstances, I’d have it printed and framed. I cupped Stetson’s chin in my hand, pulling him in for a kiss. The snapshot was taken the moment before our lips touched. My mouth was quirked into a satisfied grin. My stomach flipped.

“Put it away please,” I said, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat and shoved the tablet across the table.

She obeyed, shutting the screen off and sliding the device to the side. “I’ve had a tech digging all day. We figured out who it was.”

“I don’t want to?—”

“It was Vicky.”

“What?” Nausea roiled my stomach. Every single blood cell drained from my face.

No, that wasn’t possible. Certainly I heard her wrong. It was late, and I was exhausted. I glanced at the clock on the wall. I’d been awake nearly twenty-four hours. Having Stetson in the bed meant that I wasn’t getting nearly as much sleep as I needed.

“Are you sure?” I asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

Britney nodded grimly. “I’m sorry, Barrett. Off the record, I went to the journalist who published the article. They said they received an anonymous text saying that you were at the rooftop restaurant with someone who wasn’t Levi, and it was clearly an intimate occasion. I had a friend in IT track the text, and it led back to Vicky. I’ve already informed PUBLIC. Vicky’s been fired and the hotel is accepting full liability.”

“What’s the point?” I spat, temper flaring. “The damage is already done.”

“I know.” Britney sat forward, folding her hands and resting her chin on her fingers. “I’ve been sitting here all night trying to figure out how to do this. We need you to put out an apology.”

Was she serious? “No.”

She scoffed. “What do you mean ‘no?’”

“Is there any other meaning of the word? I don’t know which way you want to spin this, Britney, but I’m not brandishing myself as a cheater.”

Confused, she tilted her head. “If that’s not the case then you have one hell of an explanation to make, Barrett. Because after the public scandal that was you and Levi Grant, you’ve now been caught kissing the most sought-after rookie in the entire league. It’s up to you to explain this, sooner rather than later.”

“Not without talking to them.”

“Who is ‘them?’”

Exasperated, I scrubbed my hand through my greasy hair. Ew . “You’re smarter than that.” I didn’t entertain her further conversation. It was well past time for me to leave. “ No one is entitled to what I do in my private life. That was the case with Levi, and it’s the same now that Stetson’s in the picture. It’s not just my reputation on the line anymore. I’m not putting out any statement until I’ve talked to them first. We’re done here.”

I pulled my cap back on and put on my sunglasses. As a kid watching the tabloid shows, I often wondered why celebrities wore them all the time. Now I understood. When you had a million cameras flashing in your face, you did good to see six inches in front of you. Even glasses only did so much, and I used my hand to shield myself from the offending lights.

Names cycled through their onslaught of questions. “ Barrett, Levi, Stetson… ”

I ignored them, pushing through the crowd until I sat in the back of a car. Naturally, the driver went toward the team’s hotel.

Fuck it.

I fished through my bag and pulled out some cash, reaching forward to hand it to him. “Could you take me to the airport instead?”

“Sure thing.”

I could shower in the airport lounge, and sleep on the plane. It would be easy to hop a flight to Raleigh for our next game.

I wanted to go home.