Page 74 of Provoking the Punter

Garrett’s fingers twitched, curling into a loose fist as he resisted the urge to punch James in the face. “Neither. My conscience is clear.” Is yours?

“But you are doing the bar owner?” Slayter, one of the defense and special teams players, asked as if he needed to know which stories were lies and which were real.

Is that what they’d been discussing when he’d walked in?

“Yes… I’m dating Chester Monroe.” He hoped that was still true. He didn’t want to think it was over. “You got any problems with that?”

Addy walked over and offered a fist bump. “Anyone here gives you grief, tell me.”

“Thanks.” His teammates should be the least of his worries.

He turned to see if James had anything smart to say, but he was walking out with a trainer. Garrett’s heart tripped over. Was James going to talk to the coaches? Had they taken what he’d said seriously about James being the one to call him Gary, or did they know something he didn’t?

“You don’t drink… All that free gin you could be getting,” Slayter sighed, as if that was the scandalous part.

“I don’t think he’s dating him for the gin,” Cutter said. “Come on, back to it.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

Caitlin’s number flashed up on the screen of Chester’s phone. She wasn’t calling about a dinner and the only pap shot she’d be wanting to organize was for Garrett. If he said no, he wasn’t playing the game. If he said yes, he was encouraging the media.

He couldn’t win.

He didn’t want to lose Garrett even though he hated him, and himself for hating him… He hated the whole damn situation and everyone involved.

With a sigh, he picked up the phone and smiled so he didn’t sound annoyed. “Caitlin… how can I help you today?”

“You could’ve returned Garrett’s calls, but since you didn’t, you can deal with me.”

“I wasn’t ready to talk to him, or you, without saying something I may later regret.” He still wasn’t ready, and he knew how this shit worked. They needed to act, and they needed to act fast, but he didn’t want to make a bigger mess when he hadn’t worked through his own shit.

“You’re angry and hurt,” Caitlin said, stating the obvious. “No one likes being blindsided.”

He gave her that point. “I know you’re looking out for him, for the team.” He was collateral. Someone caught up in the drama who now needed to help smooth out the bumps.

“And because I’m looking after Garrett, I’m looking after you.”

Chester let out a bark of a laugh. “You want to keep me on your side.”

“You could’ve told me you were seeing him.”

“It’s new.” He’d only told his friends because he couldn’t ignore them. Not that he’d wanted to tell them anything. Not yet. He didn’t like the invasion of privacy. He’d invited the media into his establishments in the past. He’d done interviews but they were always about his business or being gay or some other hook the media found tasty. Now he was the morsel about to be cut up and devoured for entertainment. And because it involved Garrett, he wasn’t in control. Caitlin was.

“That’s what he said,” she said.

Weren’t they a good little couple, repeating the same story? Even in his head, it sounded snide. Fury and hurt were cutting their way through him. A few hours ago, the anger had been directed at Garrett. Now it was the media in general—all clicks and comments to entertain the masses—and football. The spectators wanted blood and sordid details. They wanted someone to hate and someone to champion. He would not be thrown into that arena for their entertainment.

How dare they want a piece of him?

How dare they take without asking?

How dare they demand more?

“If you have skeletons, you need to tell me…” Caitlin continued.

“So you can cut me out of the picture?” There was a part of him, which wanted to be cut out and forgotten, so he could return to his life. But that was also a lie, because there was no going back. He would forever be linked to Garrett, and Garrett was linked to Harrison, and it all fucking sucked.

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