Page 53 of Heal Me, Love Me
Mason snorted, then went serious again. “You ever worry that one of you will wake up one day and decide all of this is too much? Being together, being out, dealing with everything that comes with it. Especially in our world.”
“All the time.” The answer slipped out before I could even think it through.
He blinked. “Seriously?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Relationships are hard enough. But you know how guys in this sport talk. A lot of them act like being gay makes you weak, soft, or a joke. Even when they aren’t saying shit in a hateful way, the insinuation is still there.” I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “I thought hiding made the most sense, but it made everything worse for us. That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about things getting hard once everyone knows.”
That wasn’t something I would’ve admitted even a few weeks ago. Back then, I’d convinced myself secrecy would protect me, my career, Rowan, and whatever future we might have. Now all I could see was how badly the sneaking around had fucked him up. It’d fucked me up too.
“We’re still figuring shit out,” I continued. “But I know I don’t want him to feel like I’m ashamed of him.”
Mason leaned back against the couch cushions, scrubbed both hands down his face, then looked at me again. “You know what’s stupid?”
“What?”
“I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that nobody would care that much about me that I never really stopped to think maybe somebody would.”
Underneath all the jokes, sarcasm, and bullshit, it sounded as if Mason was lonely, which made me feel for him.
“You’ve got people here.”
His eyes flicked up to meet mine. “I do?”
“Yeah.”
For a second, he looked like he wanted to argue about that. Instead, he grabbed his beer bottle and took a sip. “Still feels odd to say it out loud.”
“You don’t have to do it perfectly.”
“That’s good because this conversation’s already awkward as shit.”
I laughed. “A little bit.”
“You’re not going to say anything to the other guys, are you?”
“No. I’d never do that to someone.”
“Good.” He pointed at me with the bottle. “Because if you did, I’d have to fight you.”
“You’d lose.”
“Debatable.”
“It’s really not.”
That earned me another laugh, and some of the tightness left his shoulders. He stood, leaving his beer bottle on the coffee table because some things never changed. “You can tell Rowan if you want, though. I don’t care.”
Normally, I would tell him to throw the bottle away, but tonight I let it go. “You sure?”
He shrugged. “You two are pretty much a package deal.”
The corner of my mouth pulled up. “Yeah. We are.”
He disappeared down the hallway, and I sat there for another minute after his bedroom door closed, the muted TV flickering in the dark living room.
I understood Mason a little better now, and it made me think about Rowan, about how much had changed in such a short time. A few weeks ago, neither of us could’ve imagined sitting at a breakfast table, casually telling our roommates we were together. Now Mason had trusted me enough to tell me something he’d been holding onto for years.
When I got to my room, I pulled out my phone and shot off a text:
