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We glanced at each other, but none of us knew what to do to get out of this situation. Thankfully, Julie had seen nothing. But she’d still seen too much.
The three of us had been rambling down a nearly abandoned hallway. None of us had any good reason to be there. And we had been giggling.
Giggling.
Julie had never seen me giggle.
And now she was scowling as she studied the three of us. I felt like I was two feet tall again, getting reprimanded by a teacher for throwing an eraser. But this was bigger than throwing something that should have just bounced off the wall and come back to me.
This was my career. Mac’s career. Emily’s career.
I needed to say something to make it better.
I hated myself for standing there. Silent and weak.
I wanted to be confident. Instead of doing nothing, I wanted to show them their love was bigger than any fear I had.
I wanted to throw my arms over Em and Mac and profess to Julie that I loved them. To boldly proclaim my pure delight. I had fucked them in a storage room. It was the wildest thing I had ever done and—if we hadn’t gotten caught walking out—I would have contemplated pressing them against the wall—
Julie cleared her throat, and I snapped my attention to her.
“The three of you are adults, so what you do in your own time isn’t any of my business.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “But if you bring it into work, it’ll be a mess for all involved. It’s fine to date employees, but this?”
We nodded, and she sighed. “I won’t pretend to understand what’s going on, but I will advise you to think of your careers—especially you, Mac—before you throw your futures away for a fling.”
I wanted to correct her. This wasn’t a fling. I’d been in love with Em way too long to ever consider it a fling. And Michael? We had started out as a fling, but I’d never insult our connection like that.
It wasn’t easy, though.
Our relationship was anything but traditional. It didn’t fit into any mold. It wasn’t as if we could package it up into something palatable for the people around us and carry on living our life.
But I didn’t want our relationship in the shadows.
Still, this wasn’t the time or the place to make any public declarations, especially when Julie had the power to make this even messier for us.
We said a hasty goodbye to her and retreated, barely catching our breath until we were in the car and I pulled up to the stoplight two blocks from the arena.
“What do we do?” Mac asked, breaking the silence that had grown in our shock.
I knew the answer.
I didn’t like the answer, but it had to be said.
“You and Em can be the public face of our relationship—”
“Bash, no,” Em cut in.
“It’s for the best. That way you can wear Michael’s jersey to games and he won’t face any scrutiny for—us.” It hurt to say, but it really was for the best. “I’m a big boy. I can handle knowing there’s more beneath the surface.”
Em huffed, but Mac was silent the rest of the drive.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wear this?” Two weeks later, Em held up Mac’s jersey.
I wanted to slip it on. I wanted to sit in the stands, proudly supporting Mac, not caring what anyone thought.
But it wasn’t that simple.
My stomach twisted into knots, and I shook my head. “I don’t know if you should, either.”
