Page 19 of The Wing
“Yep. Mum let me watch it for the first time when I was home sick from school. I realised I was gay as soon as Viggo stepped onto the screen.”
I laugh and walk sideways so I can see him. “Can’t say I blame you. Long hair with a mysterious edge? Sign me up.” I face forward. “So Liv Tyler didn’t do it for you? Even I think she’s stunning with pointed ears and long flowing robes.”
“Oh, she’s gorgeous, but I was more concerned trying to figure out whether I could deep throat Aragorn.”
I choke on spit and dig through my bag to find water to clear my throat. My eyes water and I cough. “Jesus, Hemi. Warn a guy before you start talking about deep throating Aragorn.”
“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound apologetic with the amused edge to his voice. “So, you’re gay, too? Bi? Pan?”
“Gay,” I clarify. “I could have told you that without a discussion about deep throating, but yes. I agree with you about having your sexual awakening to Aragorn.” I turn to Hemi. “But then Faramir showed up in the second film and I realised I prefer men with blond hair and a curtain fringe.” My eyes dart to Hemi’s chestnut hair thatalmosthas blond streaks in direct sunlight before I turn my focus back to walking, ignoring the burning in my thighs. I was not made for physical exertion.
“Blonds?”
“Sometimes brunettes, once a guy with purple hair. He was insane, though.” I shudder when I remember his fixation on humiliation and wipe sweat off my forehead. I discovered that wasreallynot my thing and never returned to that club.
Hemi clears his throat. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment? I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
I pause in my step but continue when I feel him at my back. Why does he want to know that? And does it have anything to do with flirting with me? Butterflies fight in my stomach, and I shove my hands deep into my pockets. “Nope, not seeing anyone. Are you?” I ask hesitantly.
Hemi sighs heavily. “Charlie wants me to. Said there’s a guy at her office she thinks I’ll like.”
“Why don’t you?” I ask, ignoring the reminder that whoever he ends up with, it won’t be me.
Hemi sighs again. “I don’t want to bring more attention to the fact I’m gay and playing on a professional team. At least, not unless it’s a serious relationship. Then I wouldn’t mind dealing with the media.”
“Have people been shitty?” I frown and try to catch his eye, but he’s staring at the ground as he walks.
“Not everyone. It’s a lot better than it could be, and I’m thankful for that, but I feel like every interview someone brings up the fact I’m gay. If I was dating someone, it wouldbe so much worse, you know? Then there would be a physical reminder of my sexuality, which is harder for people to ignore.”
I stop in the middle of the track and shift to face him. Hemi stops, slightly shorter than me now on the incline, and I use it to my advantage to stare down at him. “People are assholes, and they always will be.” He rolls his eyes, and I rest my hands on his shoulders and squeeze gently. “Don’t let them take it away from you. You deserve to have someone, and anyone who writes gross things on Reddit can suck my dick.”
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he laughs. “That’s the pep talk? They can suck your dick?”
“All I’m saying is if you’re interested in someone, don’t let the thought that theremightbe some invasive interview questions stop you. They already know you’re gay. Force them to prove they have your back.”
“The team does. And so do the refs—they don’t allow slurs—it’s the public I’m worried about.”
“Who gives a fuck about them?” Hemi opens his mouth. “And don’t say you. They should not dictate your life or sexuality.” I shake him slightly and wait until he nods meekly before I release his shoulders and grin at him. “So what’s this guy’s name?”
His brows come together. “I don’t remember.”
“Well, what are his interests?”
“All I remember is Charlie saying he doesn’t follow rugby.”
I scrunch my nose at him. “Really?”
“She thinks it will be good for me.”
“But not watching rugby? What happens when you have an awesome game and he doesn’t get it?”
He shrugs. “Probably the same if he was a mathematician. I’d nod, be supportive, and understand nothing.”
I blink at him. “I guess that makes sense. Lots of couples don’t have any interest or understanding of the other’s job. Isthat what you want? Someone who doesn’t watch rugby?” If he does then that rules me fully out of the running. Not that I was ever there to begin with, even if his flirting gave me some hope.
He’s silent for a while, staring off into space thinking about it, and finally says, “I don’t know.”
“Maybe he’s not the guy for you then. All I’m saying is if you find someone you’re interested in, don’t let the idea of public opinion stop you.” I spin to follow the path and after a few steps, I hear him crunching behind me.
