Page 71 of Provoking the Punter

They’d agreed to date and take things slow so they could work things out. There would be no working things out as it was out. Garrett had been outed. Which meant he might be cut. Which meant he’d be gone. Chester looked at the sheets that were all askew. The dent in the pillow on the other side of the bed. The extra towel slung over the laundry hamper.

In the kitchen, there’d be the cup and the plate he’d used for breakfast. The pan Garrett had used to make the omelet. He was everywhere.

And Chester had been getting used to the idea of sharing his space again, of what it would be like to have someone in his kitchen and in his bed… in his life.

But not like this.

His phone rang.

Garrett. No doubt he’d seen the news or been told about it.

He didn’t know what to say. He’d made it clear. He didn’t want to be a WAG or be caught up in football drama. He didn’t want people talking about him and digging into his life.

The call ended without Chester picking up.

His phone buzzed and buzzed again.

How long until some overly enthusiastic journalist dug into who he was? How long until all the connections and friends he’d made here decided they didn’t want to be associated with someone like him?

A message from Garrett flashed up on his screen.

Please call me. We need to talk as there is a photo doing the rounds.

And say what exactly? He hadn’t asked for any of this. He didn’t want to be a part of this bullshit. He wanted the nice quiet going public after the season finished. Where there was no connection to Harrison.

Not that Garrett wanted this, either. It wasn’t as though he’d invited the photographer.

Chester had been the one to suggest they leave together…

If they’d met at the hotel the way they usually did. But he was tired of slinking around and acting like what they had was a dirty secret. That wasn’t how he lived.

But nor was this.

The more people who saw him with Garrett, the more the spotlight would turn on him. He wasn’t the kid in threadbare hand-me-downs, the one who got teased because his mother had left, the one who the other kids avoided because their parents said he didn’t come from the right kind of family. But that was how he felt.

Everyone would see through the nice clothes, the nice house, and all the other things he couldn’t dream of when growing up because he didn’t know they existed.

And while Garrett had the team and Caitlin and all the wheels that made the team operate, he had nothing. He was going to have to deal with this on his own, the same way he dealt with everything.

He stared at Garrett’s text, but still had nothing to say to him. Nothing that wouldn’t make it worse, because while none of it was Garrett’s fault, he wasn’t ready to talk to him for bringing this to his door.

He didn’t know when he was going to be ready.

That hurt because he should be able to turn to him without wondering what fresh hell was going to arrive with him. Were they going to be photographed every time they went out? How long until the media moved on?

The fans moved on.

And his friends?

As he sat there, more messages popped up.

He could not live in quasi-celebrity land where people wanted to know what was going on, but he didn’t want to imagine what life after Garrett would be like.

So he sat there with his coffee growing cold and no idea what to do.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

---