Page 44 of Hot Streak

He couldn’t remember the last time a teammate had ever voluntarily sat on his bed. For the most part, he’d been accepted. But there was still a line they—and Jackson himself—had scrupulously preserved. But Connor, who maybe didn’t know about Jackson’s sexuality, even though it was pretty much an open secret, apparently didn’t care.

“You told me today I can always ask—but here’s the thing, you’re not always easy to talk to. You keep yourself apart.”

If he did, Jackson had a pretty good idea why that was.

“Listen, Connor—”

“If you’re going to tell me that you’re gay and that’s the reason you keep yourself apart, I’m going to call bullshit on that.”

“Someone told you, then?”

“Charlie. And it doesn’t bother me, not at all . . .” Connor trailed off, like he wanted to say more, but just wasn’t sure how to do it.

“Well. Good. I’m glad.”

“But it bothered other people, didn’t it?”

Jackson couldn’t help it. He shot Connor a look. “What do you think?”

Connor was quiet for a minute, and when he did answer, his eyes were serious, same as his voice. “I think you probably had to watch yourself, every single time you walked into the clubhouse, every single new team you went to.”

He wasn’t wrong. But what really baffled Jackson was why he hadn’t gotten off his bed. And normally, no, just the presence of a guy on his bed wouldn’t have been enough to tempt him—but those other guys hadn’t been Connor Clark, either.

“That’s a tough way to live,” Connor continued. “It explains why you’re so fucking prickly.”

“Why I’m prickly?” Jackson chuckled.

“You are. But finding out helped me understand why. I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me yourself.”

“I assumed someone else would. This kinda thing . . .well, it’s often better coming from someone else.”

Connor frowned. “So if they say shit, they don’t do it to your face? ’Cause you’re not a coward, Jackson. Not even a little.”

“Thanks,” Jackson said dryly. “And yeah, sure, I guess.”

Jackson wished that Connor was a little more of that stupid kid he’d initially assumed. He wasn’t used to someone uncovering all his secrets this easily.

It made him wonder when Connor had found out, and if it had anything to do with the silent treatment he’d given him over the last few days. Yes, Connor had been pissed off. But maybe it had been more than that.

Maybe Connor had been processing the info he’d just found out about Jackson.

“Not I guess,” Connor pushed.

“In my experience, it’s just easier if guys have some time to adjust to the reality, before they come face-to-face with me.” Maybe he was wrong, and it was kinda cowardly.

But it was also so much fucking easier to be a supportive teammate and keep the clubhouse drama-free if he didn’t have to hear anyone saying shit about him.

That much was true.

“Huh. Guess I can see that.” Connor lay down fully on the bed now, his long limbs sprawled out. He clearly had no issue with sharing a mattress.

Jackson swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said uselessly. His head was buzzing and his stomach was cramping, his blood burning. He really did not want to be attracted to this guy, and yet, he was.

More now than he’d ever been.

Maybe attempting to bury it wasn’t going to work—but what else could he do? He couldn’t embrace it.

“If anyone says shit about you,” Connor said, “tell me, okay?”

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