Up and Coming (Coastal College Football Book 1) Read online

  They cleaned up, then studied for a while. It was the first time they’d studied together since Emmett’s grade had dropped in his Shakespeare class. It felt good to work side-by-side again.

  Emmett had gotten an A on his latest paper for that class, so he wasn’t in jeopardy like he had been. He was back to a solid B average. Maybe things could go back to the way they were before. Maybe if they spent more time together, it would ease some of the strain between them.

  Jake had accepted that a relationship with Emmett wouldn’t be easy. The man was in an extraordinary situation, and that called for compromises Jake would refuse to make otherwise. Jake couldn’t think of a single other circumstance where he would tolerate a lover denying their relationship the way Emmett just had. But Emmett was worth the sacrifice, worth the pain and isolation.

  Jake looked at Emmett, sitting beside him on the bed. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Will there ever be a time when I come first? Before football?”

  Emmett scowled, then bit his lip. “I don’t know how to answer that question, Jake. You always come first in my heart. Isn’t that enough?”

  Jake shrugged. “That’s hard for me to believe, when I don’t see any evidence of it.”

  Emmett’s expression tightened into a cool, considered anger. “I’m here, aren’t I? If you weren’t my top priority, I’d be avoiding you until this gossip blows over. Instead, the first place I wanted to be was with you. To make sure I hadn’t screwed this up royally. To be with the one person I love and trust completely.”

  Emmett hung his head and thumped the back of his shoes against the bed frame. “I’m sorry I can’t come out for you, Jake, not yet. But I will. I’ve made that commitment to you, and I’ll keep it. We’ve got the rest of our lives to be together. For now, I need time to get my career in order. Maybe it’s too late. If these questions are already starting, playing it cool might not be an option for me. But whatever happens—whatever choices I make—you are always first in my thoughts, and first in my heart. I need you to believe that.”

  Jake nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I guess I’m being selfish.”

  “No.” Emmett laid his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You’re being patient with me, and I appreciate that. I understand that my being in the closet is hard for you. It’s okay for you to ask for reassurance. I’ll give you whatever you need. Please trust me on this. I love you more than anything, and I won’t throw that away.”

  Jake nodded. “I won’t throw it away, either. Whatever support you need, I’m here. Even if I’m pissed at you.” Jake smiled.

  Emmett smiled back and kissed him. It had been a long day, and even if things weren’t completely resolved between them, Jake was sure it was going to be okay.

  ***

  Waseem was quiet at breakfast the next morning. Emmett didn’t seem to notice, but Jake did. Waseem was never quiet. It was a bad sign.

  Jake and Waseem headed back to the dorm together, since neither had a class until ten. As they crossed the quad, grass crunching beneath their feet, Jake slid his hands into his jacket pockets for warmth. “Everything okay?”

  Waseem shook his head. “Emmett’s gonna kill me. I think I know who leaked that story to BallerGab.”

  Jake stopped short, mouth dropping open. “You told someone?”

  Waseem ran his hand through his dark curls. “No, I mean, I didn’t have to. The guy was there. I guess it’s just…guilt by association.”

  Jake nodded slowly, the truth dawning on him. “Garon.”

  “I didn’t know him very well when we first hooked up, but he seemed like a good guy. The more I got to know him, the more I liked him. I trusted him, Jake. But the truth is, I don’t know him at all.”

  Waseem shuffled his feet. “I mean, maybe it wasn’t Garon. There were a ton of guys at the club that night who might’ve recognized Emmett. But two nights ago, when I was out with Garon, he insisted on paying for everything. That’s not like him. He’s usually pretty short on cash. And I feel sick about it. That I’ve been hanging with the guy all this time, and he might’ve betrayed one of my best friends.” His voice grew tight. “I’ve got to know the truth. I can’t keep on seeing Garon if he’s done this. Outing someone is dangerous. It could get them killed. I can’t be with a guy who would do that. I don’t even want to talk to him long enough to find out.”

  Waseem was nearly in tears, and it gutted Jake to see a big, burly guy like that so overcome with emotion. Jake patted Waseem’s shoulder in a show of support, even if it didn’t offer the comfort the guy needed.

  “Do you want me to talk to Emmett about it?” Jake asked.

  “No. Emmett needs to hear it from me, and I need to say it. I’m not going to be a coward about this.”

  Jake nodded. “I’m here for you, dude. It sucks that this happened, but you’ve been a good friend to Emmett. He’s a loyal guy.”

  “If this hurts his draft chances—”

  “It won’t. Times are changing. I’m not saying it won’t be hard, but this won’t stop someone with Emmett’s talent from being drafted. Where it goes from there is up to Emmett. Maybe guys will give him shit, and he’ll break under the pressure. Or maybe it will make him even more determined to succeed. If I know Emmett, it’ll be the latter. I believe in him. He won’t let this gossip kill his dream.”

  Waseem nodded, the cold November breeze mussing his thick hair. Jake wanted to plant a fat kiss on the guy’s cheek, but they were in public, and people were still stupid. So they walked slowly back to the dorm, both lost in their thoughts.

  ***

  “Hey, Cross, take it up the ass lately?”

  Emmett turned to see the face of a former teammate—a guy cut because his attitude sucked, his athleticism sucked, and his grades sucked. And this douche had the nerve to address him, Emmett Cross, while the guy’s toady little friends laughed.

  Emmett sniffed the air like he smelled something foul, then turned away. What he should have done was slam his tray full of cafeteria breakfast into the guy’s chest. But he didn’t. He rose above it. Because he was above it.

  He went over to the table where his friends were, taking a seat next to Jake. He wouldn’t let this bullshit get to him, and he wouldn’t let it change his life. He’d meant what he said. Jake was his first priority in his heart, and he’d take every opportunity to show that, to make up for all the times when he couldn’t.

  Brent was chatting with Demonté, and Amber with Waseem. Except that Waseem wasn’t talking back. Come to think of it, the guy had been quiet the past couple of days. The guy who usually wouldn’t shut up.

  A thought came to Emmett that sent a chill through his veins. Waseem knew something. About the BallerGab article. Not that Waseem could have had anything to do with it—the guy was his best bud—but he knew something he wasn’t saying.

  “Hey. Waseem. You got a minute?”

  Waseem looked at him and nodded. Emmett rose and grabbed his coffee, nodding for Waseem to follow.

  They went downstairs to the basement, where the campus post office was located, along with a TV lounge. They found a corner to sit in where they wouldn’t be overheard. Emmett gave him a serious look. “Tell me what’s up with you.”

  Waseem slid his hands into his pockets. “I went to the Parrot last night. Talked to Garon. He’s the one who sold that story to BallerGab.” His voice broke a little. “I know I’m not responsible, but I feel like I let you down. Like somehow, by getting close to him, I exposed you to someone who could hurt you. I’m sorry, Emmett. You know how bad I want to see you turn pro. You’ve earned it, man. You’ve worked harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. And I can’t believe that piece of shit could come along and maybe take that away from you.”

  Emmett seethed, anger shooting like lightning through his veins. What a tool Garon had turned out to be. Guy acted so chill, so wise, then pulled an asshole move like that. And Waseem—Waseem had liked him, more than anyone Emmett had seen
him with.

  Waseem was hurting, and Emmett couldn’t stand that. So he gave him a cool smile and said, “No one’s going to take this chance away from me. If it comes out that I’m bi, will that hurt my draft chances? Maybe a little. Maybe I’ll be a third-round pick instead of a second. What matters is whether I can perform on the field. And I have every confidence I can. I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. Playing in the pros is nothing like college football. I know that. I will work my ass off, the way I always have, and I will rise to their level. I promise you that, Waseem. I make you that commitment right here, right now. I won’t let the haters win.”

  Waseem nodded and looked relieved, his shoulders relaxing, a little smile breaking over his lips. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your understanding.”

  Emmett patted his friend’s back. “You really think I would let an asshole like that come between us? We’re best buds. Besides, I already knew you had shitty taste in men.”

  “So did I. I thought Garon was different.”

  “Sorry, man.”

  “Yeah, me too. I can’t help being jealous of you and Jake. Friends all this time, and suddenly you’re in love, and so cute together it’s sickening.”

  He narrowed his eyes and said in a deep voice, “There is nothing cute about me.”

  “There is when you’re with Jake. His adorableness rubs off on you.”

  Emmett couldn’t help laughing at that, because Jake really was fucking adorable. And adorable to fuck. And speaking of Jake, Emmett really did want to get back upstairs to have breakfast with him. Because the two of them could never find enough time to spend together.

  So Emmett and Waseem head back to the cafeteria and Emmett slid into his seat next to the man he loved. He had a really strong temptation to kiss the guy right there in front of everyone. The truth was, he couldn’t control the story. He had to prepare for it, whichever way it went.

  And he realized, with a twist in his gut, that he was in way over his head. The media was bigger than him, as much as he’d like to treat a local news crew with disdain. If an outlet the size of BallerGab was interested in him, then he needed to start thinking on a national level.

  His shoulders sank. Emmett’s life had just gotten a whole lot harder.

  Chapter 15

  “How much is this costing you?” Emmett asked his father over the phone.

  “Now, don’t you worry about that. Your mother and I have some money saved up for a rainy day. This won’t break us. You’re in the national spotlight now. You need someone to help you navigate that.”

  “Everything you and Mom have done has been so I could get a pro contract. What if that doesn’t pan out? What if I screw this up?”

  “Emmett, your mother and I love you, and we support you no matter what. You need a publicist to help you deal with the press. This is what’s happening right now. It’s not some theoretical thing that may happen in the future. And I’m going to make sure that my son is taken care of because that’s my job. It’s not your job to worry about paying me back. You’re not some investment your mother and I made. You’re our child. It’s our privilege to do the best we can for you. So I don’t want you feeling guilty and I don’t want you worrying. Your mother and I have got this. Your job is to concentrate on your studies and your athletics, and on doing what your publicist tells you. Got that?”

  Emmett grinned in spite of himself. “Yeah, I got it.”

  When Emmett ended the call, he sat at his desk chair, phone still in his hand, and stared at the floor. He was really fucking glad to have such amazing parents. He couldn’t help worrying, because he knew how it would affect his family if he didn’t get drafted—and instead of getting a multimillion dollar contract, he ended up with a job writing marketing copy. Because it could go like that. There were no guarantees. And with Jake in grad school, they’d have some lean years ahead of them. His sisters would probably end up going to community college for two years and then to a public school to finish out their degree, because his parents wouldn’t be able to afford more than that.

  That thought physically pained Emmett in his chest and stomach. His family was counting on him. His parents’ retirement depended on him. And he knew they didn’t want him to worry. He knew they would survive. Families had survived on less. But they had sacrificed for him, and he wanted to see their sacrifices pay off—and his own as well.

  He opened up the email from Miranda Montenegro, one of the best sports publicists in the business. It was mainly boilerplate introductory information. She wanted to set up a call with him, and he needed to do it. But it was unnerving, having to tell this stranger personal things about himself. She needed to know the truth about his orientation, or she wouldn’t be able to do her job. And he wasn’t looking forward to her yelling at him because he’d screwed this up.

  Emmett was tired. He’d worked hard for a long fucking time to get where he was, and he shouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit. The college had pressed charges against the news crew that had gone after him, but at worst they’d have to pay a fine.

  That was Emmett’s life now. Strangers delving into his most intimate secrets so they could broadcast them on national news and the World Wide Web. It made no sense that anyone should care who he was fucking. All that should matter was what happened on the football field. But instead, Emmett was subjected to this scrutiny. He had to live his life without making a single mistake, or everyone in the world would know.

  And that was a lot of fucking pressure for a dyslexic twenty-two-year-old English major who just happened to be good at football.

  ***

  Two days later, on the phone with Miranda, Emmett scanned through the email she had sent him. He couldn’t think. The words on the page were garbled. He said to Miranda, “Read that back to me one more time.”

  She cleared her throat. “Emmett Cross issued an apology today for the comments he made when accosted by a camera crew trespassing on college property. ‘I spoke without thinking through the implications of my words,’ Cross said. ‘I’ve long supported LGBT rights, and I regret that my carelessness has hurt members of that community.’ Any further media inquiries can be addressed to Cross through the college information office or his publicist.”

  He nodded thoughtfully to himself. “Yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

  “You understand, this is just to put out a fire. These questions won’t go away.”

  “I understand. I want to be as vague as possible for as long as possible. But I don’t want people to see me as untrustworthy.”

  “That’s not an easy tightrope to walk. You’ve already denied being gay. Most straight people don’t see the difference between gay and bisexual. To them, gay is an umbrella term.”

  “I’m as much straight as I am gay.”

  “I understand that, Emmett. The average American football fan won’t. Maybe this is a chance for you to educate them. But you have to understand, you’re taking a risk. I mean, obviously, you’re taking a risk either way. If you keep denying your sexuality, then when you do come out, the public isn’t just going to see you as gay. They’re going to see you as gay and a liar.”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “You engaged in deception. You made it sound like you didn’t kiss a dude at a gay bar, when in fact you did. People aren’t going to forget that.”

  Emmett strummed his fingers against his forehead. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Emmett, you know I’m on your side in this. I sympathize with your situation. It sucks. These are the waters we have to navigate. We don’t have a choice in that. We do have a choice in how we navigate them. I can’t tell you whether coming out now will make your life easier or harder. But the cat’s poking its whiskers out of the bag, and cats are squirmy little things.”

  Emmett smiled at that, even though nothing in his life right then was funny.

  They ended the call, and Emmett set the phone on his desk. He paced the floor of his room. Had he reached the point where being in the
closet was more of a threat to his future than being out? He couldn’t say for sure. But he was awfully close to that line, and if he had to cross over, he had no idea how his life would change.

  ***

  Emmett and Waseem were gathering up their bags to load them onto the bus for an away game when the coach called them aside. He was always tough to read, but right now his lips were a grim line in his otherwise expressionless face.

  He led them into his office inside the athletic building and closed the door. “I just got a call. Along the bus route leading into the stadium, a hate group has gotten permission to protest. Another organization is planning to be there to block them, with signs like ‘God hates shrimp scampi’ and ‘God hates cotton-polyester blends’—”

  “What the fuck?” Waseem asked.

  “It’s in Leviticus, in the Bible,” Emmett said. “The same passages that address homosexual behavior also condemn eating shellfish and wearing mixed cloth.”

  Waseem shook his head. “People are so messed up.”

  “I just wanted to alert you two,” the coach said. “You going to be okay?”

  “Exposure to irrational hatred isn’t exactly new to me,” Emmett replied.

  The coach’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “This may be hard to believe, but things are better now than when I was your age. The ugliness is just more visible now. There are fewer haters, but their voices are louder thanks to social media. There are more voices calling for social justice, too. Change isn’t happening fast enough, but it is happening.”

  Emmett nodded.

  “You men know how much I value you. You’re two of the most talented players I’ve ever coached, and two of the finest gentlemen. If you need anything, my door is always open.”

  Waseem broke out one of his sunny smiles. “Thanks, Coach. We’ve got this.”