Page 106 of The Play

“He’s not saving me. Or protecting me. Just make sure he doesn’t punch any of those guys like he did those two at the bar.”

“He won’t,” Darcy said, shooting him a look. “You know he won’t.”

It was a little hairy, but we got out okay, Grant replied.

We’re going to the Pirate’s Booty, Deacon texted back. I’d invite you, but I can only imagine what kind of sensation that would cause.

Grant felt a pulse of regret. What if nobody had ever gotten ahold of that stupid email? What if they’d figured out their relationship in private, without the whole world trying to peer in? What if they’d controlled the rollout?

Then maybe, he could’ve gone to the Pirate’s Booty with Deacon, and nobody would’ve blinked twice at his appearance.

But that was not how it had happened.

Before the email, he’d been too tied up with the idea that he was not only preserving Deacon’s legacy with the Condors by keeping his hands off him, but making sure that he didn’t do anything personally to damage any of his businesses—or the people who worked for those businesses.

Now he could see that had been a major misstep. If he’d been proactive, instead of defensive and worried . . .well, it was too late for that now.

Now, everything was a mess.

An exposed, public mess.

It’s okay, I’ve got work. That was true. He was sure he could work every hour for the rest of his life and not get through all of it. But at the same time, he’d had something that wasn’t just work in his life for the last week, and that had been . . .well, different and nice.

Really, really nice.

Don’t work too hard.

Grant slid his phone into his pocket, and when he looked up, Darcy was looking at him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, I thought we had the sort of relationship where you knew I didn’t want to talk about it, and you talked about it anyway, because you decided I needed to.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry. That was bitchy. I’m just . . .” God, what was he even? Grant scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not used to fucking up like this.”

“And you’re used to nobody giving a shit what you do, or who you do it with.”

“Yes. That. Exactly.” Before he’d bought the Condors, he could walk down the street and nobody would look twice at him.

He’d known purchasing an NFL team would come with an increased profile, but he hadn’t ever imagined it would be like this.

Of course, without the email and the wrinkle of his and Deacon’s feelings, it wouldn’t have been like this.

“This is the new norm,” Darcy said. “You know what I think. You can’t run from it. You can’t hide from it. You just have to embrace it.”

“We just started dating, Darce. How can I go to him and say, hey, let’s go public and tell the whole world we’re in love?”

“I don’t know. I just think you do it, and say I think this is going to help. You don’t think Deacon wouldn’t walk across hot coals for you, if you asked? Even if you didn’t ask?”

Grant sighed. “I don’t think I’d need to ask, and he’d already be saying yes. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t know, it kinda feels like the solution to me,” Darcy said reasonably. “He loves you enough to do it. Isn’t that exactly the point?”

“No,” Grant said miserably.

“Then explain it to me.” Darcy leaned forward.

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