Page 150 of Loving the Legend
“He called me a fa—”
“That piece of shit.” My blood boils. “What's his deal?”
He shrugs in reply. “I had enough.”
“Something’s wrong with that dude.” I shake my head. “He’s spewed crap like this before…what made you go off this time?”
His eyes rip open, and he glares at me.
I grimace. “Hold up. I didn’t mean it that way.” I curl in my legs as he pushes to stand. “I just meant that he’s not worth getting suspended over. He does it just to get under your skin,” I rush to say as he stalks away.
“Everything’s always about the game with you. I’m not even surprised. I knew you—God.” He turns to face me. “You know who’s worse than people like Lucas? All the people who cower and turn a blind eye. The same people who look at me like I’m wild for reacting.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s goddamn exhausting. We live in a culture of cowardice and self-numbing masquerading as maturity—”
“Hold up. I’m on your side. You have a right to be upset. I’m not denying—”
“Damn straight, I do. A homophobic fuck face insults you over and over, and everyone acts surprised when he gets his shit rocked.”
I nod. “I’m not denying that or defending Lucas…Damn, can we rewind? I’m proud of you and what you said in the press conference. I should have led—”
“Whatever. I’m going to bed,” he interrupts, dismissing me.
What the actual fuck?
I’m out of my seat, crossing the room before he can retreat up the stairs.
“Yo, chill. You won’t even hear me out?”
“What’s the point? You’ll say what I already know.”
I scoff. “I’m confused. Make this make sense. How is punching that asshat about me?”
He glares at me. “All day, in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about how angry you’d be at me for speaking up because it meant more attention on me. Attention that you avoid because it might impact you and your crusade to avenge your parents. And then I realized that it’s always about you and what you need.” He tears his arm away from my embrace and steps back. “Fuck…this relationship is me, you, and the ghost of your parents.”
Oof. I stumble back, staring at him in disbelief.
If he wanted to hurt me—bullseye.
“I’ll sleep in the guest room,” I growl as I brush past him.
“Am I wrong? Were you or were you not angry?”
I freeze mid-staircase. “Actually, asshole, I must’ve forgotten to be angry watching your conference along with your family while we all shed tears of pride.”
Remorse shadows his face.
“But since the gloves are off, I’ll admit that it’s one thing to push each other around to blow off steam, but trading blows isn’t like us. Not to mention, the media shitstorm that—”
He throws up his arms. “Ah! There it is…shitstorm,” he repeats with disdain. “If I’m embroiled in one, then it impacts you. Is that it?”
I clench my fists to keep from blowing my top. “Why are you being like this? We both agreed to do whatever it takes to protect us until we’re ready to come out. Why are you acting brand new?”
“I promised you I wouldn’t come out until we both agreed, but I never said anything about remaining silent in the face of homophobic dickheads. Some things are worth fighting for.”
“So what’s the plan, genius?” I demand, crossing my arms. “Punch every homophobe you come across? ’Cause that won’t leave you broke or locked up. Why not just erect a billboard on Sunset?Need a come-up? Call Sid King a slur and get shitrocked. Injury lawyers are on standby.’Why not just post your bank account online? Should we throw in our house? Your Lambos? What about the Astons? Wanna throw me in—”
“Enough!”
“No!” I fire back. “For fuck’s sake, use your head. Speak out, but you can’t afford to blow your top. Think about all that you have to lose, your teammates and—”
