Page 27

27

STETSON

Absolutely nothing could bring me down from my high. I never imagined that I’d be one to fall in love. At least, not yet. I wanted a career under my belt first. But with Barrett and Levi, it felt… natural. Nothing like falling at all.

We’d been existing in our own little bubble since that intense day at the field. The Division Series was less than twenty-four hours away and given that we were in different leagues, Barrett and I wouldn’t face off unless we both made it into the World Series. Home field advantage went to the team with the best stats, so we had less than a day together before we fought the biggest battle of the season. I intended to spend every waking moment in bed, wrapped up in my men, but I wasn’t so lucky.

At least they made me come again before I was pulled from bed and thrust into the shower—alone, for the first time. The only thing I concluded was that the space was way too big for one person. I rushed through washing and after wrapping a towel around my waist, returned to the bedroom. There, my gray slacks laid across the bed along with a matching sports coat and a white button-up shirt. Remembering the last time I’d had to dress up outside of a game, my heart raced. Levi stood off to the side, fastening the cuffs on his own shirt. “What’s going on?”

He smirked at me, and I willed my dick to go back to sleep. “It’s a surprise.”

Cue the stomach-churning nerves. I approached the bed but scanned the room, noting that we were down a person. “Where’s Barrett?”

The spike of panic in my chest made me recognize my triggers surrounding recent events.

And Levi picked up on it. He dropped what he was doing, leaving his pants hanging open. “He went ahead of us to make sure everything was in place.” Soft, warm lips pressed against my forehead, and I relaxed. “It’s okay. I promise. All I need you to do is put those clothes on.”

Levi fastened his pants and buckled his belt. I eyed the ensemble on the bed, and still hesitated. Despite everything, I hated feeling insecure. My brat simmered beneath the surface, and I worked hard to tamp him down. I’d learned my lesson in letting him run the show. Walking to the dresser, I bent down to the bottom drawer where Levi kept all of our sexy stuff. After rummaging through, I finally found what I wanted. “What are you doing, sweet boy?”

I chose not to answer the question. I was nervous, and I didn’t like being nervous. I needed to feel grounded in the moment, and I needed Daddy to be the one to do it.

I took a moment to focus on the black lace in my hands, then hooked them onto my finger and turned to face him. Instantly, his eyes blazed. “Will you help me, Daddy?” I asked, hamming it up by batting my lashes.

Levi tossed his jacket aside and rushed across the room to take the lace panties from my hand. “You really want to do this knowing these will be under your clothes the whole time?”

I couldn’t nod fast enough, picking my hand up to run the soft material through my fingers again. “It’ll help remind me that you’re there.”

Heat flared across Levi’s eyes. “Well, how can I argue that?”

Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees. He pressed a kiss to each hip bone and with a flick of his wrist, my towel hit the ground. Ignoring the semi I was sporting, he brought the panties to my feet and directed me to lift each leg. When the lace slid up my legs, I let out a sigh of relief. They’d done exactly what I needed them to.

My shirt came next, Levi slipping it over my arms and settling it on my shoulders. He took his time with each button, kissing my wrists when he fastened the cuffs. Slacks next, and he carefully did them up. He threaded my belt through the loops, and buckled it just right. By the time he straightened and reached for my sports coat, I was in a much better mindset.

Although not much could keep my impatient side from showing. We’d been in the car less than ten minutes and I was getting antsy. “Levi, where are we going?”

“You’ll see, baby.” His hand caressed my thigh, thumb brushing where boxer briefs should have been. I shivered. “We’re almost there.”

I couldn’t see a thing. I’d been blindfolded. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for anything fun. At least, not that I could tell. Daddy seemed all business. I slumped back in the seat, but then the car slowed to a stop. I heard chattering outside the doors, and hornets stirred in my belly. “Where are we?”

Levi fumbled at the back of my head, and the blindfold fell away. In his hands were two pairs of sunglasses, and he offered one to me. “Trust me?”

I looked past him to the swarm of paparazzi outside the car. Even the deep tint to the windows was pointless against the onslaught of cameras. My mouth went dry. My outburst in Orlando was still the talk of the community. I wasn’t proud of my behavior. I’d been instructed to apologize to the catcher, but I stood by the idea that he deserved it.

“Baby boy,” Levi cooed, pulling me from my thoughts. I tore my gaze away from the sunglasses. “Can you trust me?”

I glanced toward the driver, and Levi followed my line of sight. “That man is being paid a lot of money to be deaf right now.”

With a smile, I took the shades and put them on. “Yes, Daddy. I trust you.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Levi put on his own glasses and offered his hand. The driver pulled the door open for us. Flashes instantly blinded me. I relied on Levi to lead me through the crowd of reporters and it was only when we climbed a flight of stairs that another hand hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my gaze. I almost couldn’t believe what was in front of me. Up here, the flashes were far less damaging to my eyes. I yanked the glasses off. “Barrett?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He leaned in to brush a kiss across my lips, and I stiffened. The clicks of the cameras intensified.

“What are we doing?” I faked my best smile.

“I have something I need to say,” Barrett told me, “and I’m ashamed that it took me this long to do it. I’ll never be able to apologize to you enough. Right now, the only thing you need to do is what you do best: stand right over there and look pretty.”

When I didn’t answer, Barrett looked at me expectantly. My attention darted to Levi, who gave me a reassuring nod. Lowering my voice, I turned back to Barrett. “Yes, sir.”

The smoldering look in his eyes sent a burst of warmth through my veins. There was a podium in the dead center of the stage with a ridiculous number of microphones clipped to the edges. There was a sheet of paper there, but I was too far away to make out any of the words. While Levi and I moved to the far corner of the stage, Barrett stepped up to the podium. Lights flickered so violently that I wondered how he was able to see anything. Then again, I supposed nothing mattered more than the words in front of him. Movement from the front row caught my eye and with that signal from his publicist, Barrett started to speak.

“Good evening, everyone. I would assume that all of you know who I am, so I’ll skip to the formalities and get straight to why we’re all here tonight.”

I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. Barrett’s voice oozed confidence, and it was sexy as hell.

“A few weeks ago, a photo of me surfaced. Since, I’ve been called some pretty unsavory names that I’d rather not repeat. I’m here tonight to set the record straight, but first I have to say how appalled I am by the public’s reaction.”

Barrett clearing his throat was the only sign of nerves. Well, to the audience. From my angle I could see the way he fidgeted with the corner of his page. I itched to step forward and show him some sign that he wasn’t in this alone. As if Levi could sense it, his hand found my lower back and he gave me a subtle shake of his head. Not yet .

“Polyamory in humans can be traced back to ancient times. Sure, it might be considered taboo in Western culture, but it’s most certainly not new. I’m not surprised that me being seen with another man was a shock to some of you, but I’m outraged that the first thing people jumped to was the negative. People were so quick to paint me as a monster, to label Georgia’s own Hometown Hero a homewrecker. Frankly, I’m disappointed, but we move on. My sexuality has never been a secret, but I never considered that I’d spend the rest of my life coming out of the closet again and again. Tonight, for the first time, I’d like to reintroduce myself. My name is Barrett Swindon, I’m a Georgia native, and I’m a polyamorous gay man. I have not one, but two wonderful partners who, for whatever reason, decided that I was worthy of their love and affection.” Barrett paused and looked at us over his shoulder. “Would the two of you join me, please?”

Damn . I’d sure as hell try. As Barrett talked, my eyes had begun to burn. When he asked me to move, my legs turned to jelly. He was really going to stand up in front of the whole sports community and claim me ?

Levi gave me a gentle nudge, and I took a few steps forward. I toppled into Barrett’s left side, and Levi stood to his right. Instinctively, Levi put a possessive hand on Barrett’s back. I didn’t move—I couldn’t. My hands were frozen in my pockets. I’d been to dozens of press conferences. Hell, being in the spotlight was my thing. But this felt different. It felt like I’d been ripped open and put on display for the world, and every single pair of eyes was zeroed in on me.

I didn’t get too much time to panic though, because Barrett’s arm snaked around mine, and he tugged my hand free. Our fingers laced together, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Finally, I turned toward the sea of cameras and plastered on my classic Stetson Holloway smile. Only this time, I meant it. My cheeks had to be bright red, but I didn’t care. Barrett tugged me closer and wrapped his arm around my waist. I curled into his side, accepting the kiss he pressed to my hair. “You all right?” he whispered in my ear.

“Perfect.”

The reporters started with their flurry of questions, and Barrett faced them yet again. He singled out a single person in the middle of the crowd. A woman with curly red hair. “The World Series is right around the corner,” she stated, as if anyone who knew anything about baseball wasn’t already aware. “How do you see your relationship affecting your ability to perform on the field?”

Before I could even think about getting defensive, Barrett had a response ready. “I don’t,” he answered, sure of his words. “Stetson’s more than earned his place in the majors. If we’re both lucky enough to make it into the World Series, I’ll shake his hand and wish him the best just as I would anyone else.”

“What if the Thrashers win?” another voice called.

“Then I’ll shake his hand and congratulate him,” Barrett said, a little more firmly. “Let’s get one thing straight: my relationship with Stetson Holloway has nothing to do with what happens when we step foot on that field. Up to this point, we’ve kept the game separate from our private life and I intend to keep it that way. The fact that someone else felt they were privy to that information doesn’t change a thing. May the best team win.”