Page 31 of Cleats and Pumps

“I’ll be over this evening, and we’re going out.”

“Oh no. Owen, please tell me this isn’t one of your horrible fix-me-up moments.” When he didn’t respond, I groaned. “Dude, tell Jason I love that you’re together. I’m so happy you found him, but man, I don’t want a relationship. I don’t even have the energy for a fling.”

When the pause continued, I could hear the conversation looping in his head. “You need to get over Amos. It isn’t good for you to be so hung up on one dude you refuse to date others,” he’d been saying since I graduated college. Now, he’d even recruited his recently wed husband, Jason, to pressure me.

“I’m not willing to meet anyone tonight, so if that’s what you and Jason have planned, I’m out. But if it’s just the three of us or even just the two of us, I’m willing to get dinner maybe or go to a movie, but that’s it, got it?”

“Well, we already invited—”

I interrupted him. “Then it’ll just be you three then. I’m not meeting someone for a date.”

“Hold on,” he said, and I heard him talking to Jason in the background. I hadn’t even realized he had me on speaker.

“I’ll invite my brother to join us,” Jason said. “Tommy, is that okay? If it’s not just you and Will?”

“Will?” I asked, knowing that was the dude’s name they wanted to fix me up with. “Okay, yeah, I guess, as long as it isn’t just me and some guy you’re trying to force on me.”

I could almost see the look Jason was giving Owen, and I couldn’t help but smile. I really did like Jason. I’d already had his brother thrust on me, and to be honest, if I weren’t still a fucked up mess over Amos, I’d probably be interested. He was nowhere near as big and bulky as Amos, but he was still my type… just… not Amos.

I crashed down on the comfy sofa after hanging up. I knew it was fucked up. Of course, when nature called, I went with it. I’d even had a friend with benefits for almost a year, but my heart still belonged to that big lug of a man… a man who couldn’t love me back. Yeah, we’d screwed around. Yeah, it had rocked my world, but he clearly wasn’t that into me.

I shook my head, trying to get rid of those memories. Memories I knew would never be entirely gone. Maybe I did need to meet someone and see if I could shift those thoughts. It’d been almost five years since that night. I got up from the couch, went over to my laptop, opened it, and began writing.

“Diary of a gay sportswriter…”

I’d started writing the book after my first year with the paper but never thought I’d finish it. Why would I? I was boring, with a few trysts, but nothing interesting enough to write about. People wanted heavy sex or drama. I had neither. I was just a stupid journalist who fell in love with an incredible athlete who didn’t want me. That story had been written many times before.

Despite that, I dug into the story, documenting being fired for not exposing Amos to the paper. The exercise of writing things out was cathartic.

When I glanced at the clock, I cussed. “Shit.” I’d lost track of time. I was used to that. I tended to get in the zone when writing and not come up for air until I finished. But it was almost five, and I hadn’t even showered.

I grabbed my phone, and sure enough, Owen had texted me to meet them at 6:30. I was at least thirty minutes from the restaurant he suggested, but I had time to shower and primp before the date. Yeah, as I wrote about Amos, I became more convinced I should give the guy a chance. I needed to get fucking Amos out of my head once and for all.

16

Amos

“Josiah,”IwhisperedafterI forced myself not to storm from the freaking living room. “I need to get the fuck out of here before I say something and Dad kicks me out for good.”

Josiah patted my back and pushed me out the back door. He led the way to the old swing set we used as kids. There’d been a lot of deep conversations on that swing set, between us, so even though we were both grown, it made sense.

“Listen, you have every right to be mad. Dad is going too far. But he’s afraid for your career.”

I just looked at my brother. “He’s afraid for himself. Scared the money will stop flowing.”

“That’s not fair,” Josiah chastised me. “Dad barely spends any money you send. He squirrels it away and says you’ll probably need it one day.”

I sighed and slipped onto the swing, way too small now for my big ass. “I know. Shit, he’s so ridiculous though. I mean, why does he have to act that way?”

“’Cause he worries about you all the damn time.”

“And not you?” I countered, feeling the jealousy I’d always felt around my brother.

“No, dude, I’m the lawyer. Few people would fire me, and certainly not because I’m out or want to do drag. You… well, you’ve always been more emotional.”

“And my emotional ass has several mil in the fucking bank too.”

Josiah chuckled. “I didn’t say it makes sense. Dad’s just being Dad.”

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