Page 117 of My Pucking Crush

“No problem.” He sips a glass of club soda. “Where you go, I go.”

His cold voice draws my stare. The lines in his face, hardened from a harsh life, down to the hand on the table, balled into a fist, is stressing me out. After a quick glance around, I reach out to hold his hand.

Luca stops drinking, his eyes shooting to my fingers as I attempt to make the contact I need so badly from him.

“Do you have a problem with this?” I ask him, feeling him pulling away.

“Are we on a date?”

“Maybe.” I bark a laugh. “We’re having dinner.We’re fucking.”

“Careful,” he warns me.

I think about getting caught versus coming out. Admitting my sexuality versus explaining it. Telling people to mind their fucking business versus holding a press conference to save my reputation.

“Max Ryan?” someone says my name.

I yank my hand from Luca’s so fast that his wrist hits the table, his chunky watch clanging to the wood surface. Our eyes meet and he’s furious.

It’s so terrifying, I turn away to address the complete stranger who might have a gun and wants to shoot me. “Yeah?”

“I just want to say good luck on Friday against Richmond.” The man smiles while speaking, but his eyes land on Luca’s open and empty hand still resting on the table. “I grew up in Mystic. Always been a Crushers fan.”

Did he see us holding hands? Shivers run down my spine, but I hold it together. I stand up, and like most times I’m faced with a fan, I tower over the guy. “Thank you.”

When I go to shake the guy’s hand, he oddly just looks down at it. I quickly shove it in my pocket. “Do you want an autograph or a selfie?”

The man rocks from side to side. “Not much of a selfie guy. But I’ll take an autograph.”

I don’t keep notepads on me. “Um, having anything you want me to sign?”

“Nah.” He lifts his hand to give me a masculine knock on the shoulder but looks down at Luca, who’s not another player, or someone else who’s famous. Shit, it does look like we’re on a date. A secret one. My attack wasn’t made public. No one knows he’s my bodyguard. “Don’t worry about it, man. Just beat Richmond.” The guy strolls away.

I sit down and close my eyes before looking at Luca. “Look, I’m sorry. That was—”

“Save it,” he cuts me off.

“You don’t understand,” I say and regret it because it’s the stupidest fucking thing I can say. Of course he understands.

I’m learning that being in a relationship with another guy means I have to temper my emotions. Luca takes my dick, but he’s no beta male. “I mean... It would be unfair to the team if I—”

“It’sfine, Max.Idon’t want to get fired. One day I might want to work back in the real world and I don’t need a client-fucking incident on my record.”

I wait a beat for him to calm down before changing the subject.

“How’s Samara?” I ask, realizing he hasn’t mentioned her.

Luca’s eyes raise to mine, and the prolonged silence guts me. “She’sfine,” he finally says, but it rings of something untrue.

Did something happen to his sister that he’s not telling me? Luca doesn’t say much else for the rest of the meal. A meal I pay for, along with everything else. For everyone. But I don’t mind paying for Luca. My generosity for him is pure.

We’re not chased away from the table after the dinner rush slowed due to the weather. A baseball game plays on a TV over the bar, and I relax watching a sport I have absolutely nothing emotionally invested in.

The rain stops, and we leave. The dark roads heading back west on the narrow state highway that lead to the South Shore has Luca crawling along. It’s close to freaking midnight by the time we reach my house in East Hampton.

My block is quiet, all houses dark except for one. Aneighbor I haven’t met has their lights on with a few cars in the driveway. The houses back up to the beach off a winding road with no sidewalks. The front of the house is blocked by a row of twelve-foot skinny Emerald Green trees.

Luca’s silence is wrecking me. Maybe the way my father glared at him twice now caught him off guard. My heart climbs into my throat. Christ, he saw the abuse I grew up with. Came face to face with the man who sent me off to be brutalized and didn’t care what would happen to me. My fucked-up past is all too real. And he’s...dumping me. Now. Tonight.

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