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Beau clicks the remote at the blank screen, spouting off, “Could be it needs reprogramming, or the infrared sensor has an issue, or another device is causing interference, or maybe it’s a firmware issue?—”
Blair rolls her eyes at his mansplaining. The man prides himself on being a techie when really…
“Or maybe it’s the tape on it?” Blair chirps.
And I fall on the sofa, laughing so hard I cry.
With a devilish smile, she rips off the clear piece she put on the remote’s tip, the one Beau holds, speechless as he realizes he’s been played.
“Now.” She presses the clear tape to his nose. “See if that made your little gadget work.”
He logs on, “I’ll show you how my big gadget works later,” half-smiling, half plotting her demise.
This morning, our session with Dr. Gary focuses on mindfulness and I get it. My body is in top form. I know my craft. I run routes in my sleep.
But my mind?
It’s all kinds of fucked up. Mostly, I’m ecstatic. I can’t wait for our new life. Our new season. But in the back of my mind, my secret looms on the sideline, sitting on the bench, waiting to rush the field.
Waiting to ruin everything.
We make it to our last day, our last session.
We’ve had productive mornings, fun days, and hot nights. Though Blair insisted we abstain these last two.
“Celibacy makes the cocks grow stronger,” she joked, but she meant it, so we just held each other, ignoring our hard-ons.
While she clicks away on her laptop outside, Dr. Gary greets us with a genuine smile.
“Gentlemen, I’m impressed with your progress.” It’s like he’s giving us gold stars, and we’ve earned them. I’m not the same man I was ten days ago. “But tell me how you feel about it.”
“I feel great,” Beau answers. “We’ve cleared the air and our minds. I got my new mantra: it’s just a game. I’m ready to win and?—”
“And I got my best friend back.” It blurts from my mouth.
“Yeah, and that.” Beau smiles, glancing my way. “We’re best friends again.”
Maybe we share a smile too long. Maybe our knees brush too much. Or maybe Dr. Gary is just too damn good at reading minds.
“Will you ever tell others how you’re more than friends?” His tone is gentle—not condescending, but compassionate.
Still, it shocks the shit out of me.
“Say what?” I whip my stare to the screen.
“You’re safe with me,” Dr. Gary assures. “I’d never betray your trust because you deserve it.”
Beau scrubs his face. Glancing at me, terror fills his eyes before he asks the Doc, “How did you know?”
“You told me,” he answers, “in how you wrote about each other. How you care for and love each other. Usually, teammates focus on tactics and blame, but you went straight to the heart. You care about his, and he cares about yours. I won’t pry into how you express your love, but I support it.”
Beau murmurs, “No one can know.”
“We’re not out,” I state the obvious. “We can’t be.”
Dr. Gary nods. I wonder how he’s trained his face to stay so calm while inside; my nerves are blowing bombs.
“I’d never out you,” Doc promises. “Never. Just know I’m here for you if something ever happens. You’re not alone. There are hundreds of players, mostly men, just like you. I can put you in touch with a few of them if you like. They’ve formed a private support group of sorts.”
