Page 69 of Tight End

“At some point this season, I’m going to come out.”

“Of what?” The words are automatic, but as soon as they leave my mouth, his meaning truly sinks in. Which, yes, makes me look like a bit of an ass. Unintentional, but still.

“I’m bisexual, Ryan, and I don’t want anyone blindsided when I start dating men publicly. Nor do I want to derail everything Gordon and his sister have built with the Devils. They’re behind me one hundred percent, but we’ll need to make sure the timing is right.” He lets out another sigh, this one heavy, and gives me a sad smile. “We’re expecting some fallout. Not everyone will be happy with an openly bisexual GM in pro sports. I understand you needing to protect yourself, and it may be best if I?—”

“I couldn’t give two fucks.” I take a step toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “You’re my brother, and I’ll support you however I can. I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do, but I’m not going to sacrifice my family for a contract. I’m starting to realize there are more important things than football.”

The more time I spend with Oliver and June, the more I get it. A job, a very good job, but it’s not a life.

“Are you sure? No one really knows we’re related.”

I close the distance, snaking my arm around his shoulders, and snap a quick picture. “They’re about to. I’m putting this on my Instagram with the hashtags ‘brotherly love,’ ‘football versus hockey,’ ‘I love you man,’ and ‘brother lover.’ Wait. Not the last one. I think that means something else.”

“You think?” He laughs, giving me a playful shove. “You’re a dick.”

“Yeah, and you’re delusional if you thought your sexual preferences would push me away. What you do, and who you do, behind closed doors is your business.” I hang my head and give it a shake. I don’t like that he has to go through this, but he won’t be alone. “Obviously we need to get together more.”

This time when he smiles, it’s genuine, and maybe with a hint of evil. Like if he had a mustache, he’d be twirling it right about now. “You might be awfully busy with that future wife of yours.”

“Don’t say that too loud. She’s still pissed.”

“Do you blame her?”

“Nope.” I crossed the line, I know I did, but I can’t find it in me to care. Not when there’s a chance I can make this a reality. “You ready to meet your nephew now? Got any more secrets you want to unload on me?”

“I’m ready, fucker.” He slaps my back, hard, and pushes me toward the living room, but before I can take the first step, his mom arm shoots out, hitting my chest. It’s a good thing I play football and not something sissy like hockey. “Can you keep this between us for now? I don’t want it getting out before I’m ready.”

“Of course. My lips are sealed.” And just likeI did when we were young, I cross my heart with my pinkie and extend it out to him. He laughs, giving me a look that says he still thinks I’m an asshole, but he wraps his finger around mine all the same.

This time he lets me lead him to the living room, where Oliver and June are sitting hip to hip in the middle of the couch, surrounded by monster trucks and dinosaurs, watching the monster cartoon. Again.

“Hey, Oli, I’d like you to meet my older brother. That means he’s your uncle.”

Oliver glances over at me, quickly looking between us. “If he’s older, why is he smaller than you?”

Dean’s eyes widen, June’s face pales, and I can’t help but laugh. I’m sure it’s not the correct parenting response, but it’s hilarious.

“That’s because your daddy plays football and your uncle sits behind a fancy desk all day.” I point to Dean, specifically his button-down collared shirt.

My brother makes a noise in the back of his throat, one I can only describe as something you’d expect to hear from a grumpy old man.

Oliver stares at us for several beats, his mouth twisted to one side. I’m not sure whether he’s contemplating the meaning of life or really scrutinizing Dean’s size and attire. He’s not that much smaller than me, maybe more lean, but now I’m never going to let him forget it. “Can I have a brother?”

Wasn’t expecting that. And if the stricken look on June’s face is something to go by, she wasn’t either.

I’m damn sure not ready for a second child, but I’d be willing to practice. You know, make sure to get it right when June and I decide to have another. And yes, I said when andnot if. Sending me the picture of her pregnant, her belly hugely swollen with my child, was a mistake, because now I can’t stop thinking about it.

Of course, next time I think I should sweet-talk her into marrying me first. Then I can knock her up.

“I ... well ... you see ...” June starts but quickly trails off, her gaze snapping to mine, that pink blush I love so much spreading across her cheeks.

“You never know what’s going to happen in the future. You might get a baby sister.” I really shouldn’t smile, and I probably shouldn’t poke the bear, but I find myself doing both of those things.

Dean makes another disgruntled noise, June’s eyes narrow, and Oliver’s entire face scrunches up.

“A sister? Gross.”

I don’t know, I don’t hate the idea of a miniature June running around the house.

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