Chapter Fourteen

TYLER BLINKEDagainst the glare of the studio lights as the photographer snapped away. “That’s great, Tyler, eyes right. Lift the chin and… grin. Little more. Little bit more. That’s the deal. Eyes here,” the photographer said.

Three weeks after his triumphant return to the San Diego Swells, the media blitz was in full swing. Since the Vegas press avail, Tyler had emerged as the NFL’s darling, the comeback king, his resurrection from a career-ending cardiac injury fueling countless human-interest stories. The Swells were milking it for all it was worth.

“All right, Tyler, relax your mouth, eyes left. Shoulders relaxed. No… really relaxed,” the photographer called out as Tyler stood under the bright lights of the studio. The camera never stopped clicking. The photographer’s name was Pedro, and Tyler had shot several promo campaigns with him.

This morning’s photo shoot for Sports Illustrated was Tyler’s eleventh since returning to the Swells. He felt like a show pony trotting around, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of being back in the spotlight.

“Anna, can you get the shine on the arm?” Pedro’s wife did simple hair and makeup, which kept shoots faster and friendlier.

Anna patted Tyler’s arm with something and then smoothed his eyebrows with a quick thumb.

“That’s the one.” Pedro signaled to him. “Twist to me. A little further. Think of something good. Exhale! And… got it.”

This was his third photo shoot since Monday. He’d done Wheaties on Wednesday and some kind of sexy “jocks and socks” social media campaign for the San Diego Zoo, which involved lounging around outdoors wearing nothing but those two items—socks and a jock—with his bare ass toasting on a flat rock that overlooked a trio of bored giraffes.

At least today he got to keep his clothes on.

This kind of publicity stuff was glamorous and whatever, but to be honest Tyler would have paid ten thousand bucks to be running around the track at Hamilton Hugh right now, his arm bumping against the only person he needed.

As the camera clicked away, Tyler couldn’t help but think about Josh. He missed his calm presence, that reassuring voice in his ear. It was a stark contrast to the constant whirlwind of empty activity and attention he now faced daily.

For another forty minutes, Pedro kept him hopping and then let him go earlier than expected. “I think we got more than we need, actually. At least three options if they decide to give you the cover. But more than enough for insert and inset. You can get dressed whenever.”

Tyler exhaled and shook out the tension. Standing immobile for long stretches of time only made him conscious of the aches and twinges. “Thanks for today, man.”

He started walking toward the bathroom to change and noticed the big wall of battered books next to the kitchenette. “Pedro.” An idea struck him. “Weird question?”

“Might get a weird answer.” Pedro looked up from the screen on the camera. “Shoot.”

Tyler pushed his hands into his pockets and unleashed the smile that had kept him from ever paying a traffic ticket. “You read a lot.”

Pedro laughed and glanced at the packed shelves. “Guilty. My wife makes me store all my paperbacks here instead of home.”

“I’m working on a pro-literacy thing. Anti-censorship. You know. In my hometown.” He nodded.

“For the miracle man? Anything.” Pedro winked. “You’re the toast of the town.”

“Would you be up for doing some shots of me for my boyfriend’s charity?”

“Sounds serious. Congrats.”

Tyler blinked gratefully. “Amen. I’m trying to keep him out of the grinder as much as I can.”

“What kind of charity?”

Tyler grinned. “He’s trying to save the high school library in our hometown from a bunch of blowhards.”

“Anything.” Pedro snapped a picture of him and stared at the screen to check it. “I mean, you’re here. I don’t have anyone else till noon.” He snapped again, capturing Tyler against the wall of books. He glanced up and looked at the shelves. “This okay?”

“Perfect.”

Pedro spent another ten to twenty minutes getting shots. Tyler swapped his clothes out a couple times just for variety, but in the end they got a bunch of useful images. Even if Josh couldn’t use them, Tyler could have the press team send them to the media with info about the campaign.

As he left for good this time, Tyler turned to slap and shake Pedro’s hand. “You’re the man.”

“My pleasure, Fantana. Hey, if you’re interested…,” Pedro said behind him.

Tyler turned in the doorway with a question on his face.

“I’m doing a couple covers for Condé Nast this month. Everybody needs good grease, right? I could hit up some other celebs.” He shrugged. “See if they’d be interested in helping out.”

Tyler shook his hand again. “That’d be amazing. I really appreciate it. I’ll send you the details.” After a wink and a salute, he jogged down the staircase to the street, feeling excellent about surprising Josh with some outside celebrity muscle.

“Breathe. Find the path before trying to run,” Tyler whispered to himself. Josh kept reminding him. No matter the pressures from the team, the media, even the fans. Because deep down, all he wanted was to protect his heart, in every sense, and find his way back to the man who had captured it so completely.

Tyler headed for practice that morning feeling a little better.

Right after the Qualcomm Stadium had been rebuilt as the Snapdragon, Boris had spent $190 million to build the Swells a fancy compound. He’d bought eleven acres southwest of I-8 and erected a mirrored office tower, a state-of-the-art gym, and a full training facility near Mission Valley East, all just ten minutes from the new stadium.

Practice was… fine. He participated in about half the drills. The coaches gave him enough grief that he started to believe they actually still wanted him on the team.

To their credit, all the coaches seemed to be keeping a close eye on him through the agility drills and dummy tackles routines. McBride and Janowitz made him sit out the strenuous bits, just to be safe. All of them offered encouragement that felt sincere, even when Tyler wondered just how irreplaceable he was.

A couple of hours later, the Swells offense wrapped up for the day. Tyler wandered back toward the locker room, muscles pleasantly sore and loose from the morning workout. As his cleats clicked across the tiles, he traded friendly insults and shoulder checks with some of the guys from his practice squad.

“Hey, gramps, hope we didn’t bust your catheter,” jeered Odell, a cocky second-year quarterback with dreads and braces. He’d transferred in from Detroit and had golden hands. “You still hit plenty hard.”

“Sorry if I knocked the tit out of your mouth, junior,” Tyler fired back with a grin. They jabbed at each other and chuckled.

As always, the camaraderie with his younger teammates energized Tyler. Their competitiveness made him feel like part of the team again, not just some battered charity case.

After Tyler rinsed off and returned to his locker, some of the veterans came over to check in.

“How’s the ticker holding up, pa?” asked Calvin, a starting linebacker.

“Still ticking,” Tyler replied. “We’ll see if it stays that way whenever I go full contact.”

“Don’t push it too fast, Fantana.” Calvin lowered his voice. “You listen. Ain’t no shame in taking your time, no matter what they tell you. We need you at a hundred and one percent, not the glue factory. You’d best pay attention to that heart.”

Tyler nodded, appreciating the candor. The coaches wanted to fast-track his return, but his teammates seemed to understand the risks. Their concern meant everything right now.

After toweling off and pulling on dry shorts, Tyler headed to the training room for his biweekly PT session. Maureen, his physical therapist, put him through a gauntlet of exercises, massage, and soaks to continue rebuilding his strength and mobility.

“Damn, take it easy on me, lady!” Tyler joked after a brutal set of squats with resistance bands. These exercises started out like nothing, but the ache snuck up on you.

“Got to get you back in shape if you want to survive out there.” She poked his side.

He nodded. Humor and honesty—with so much pressure coming from all directions, they helped him remember what mattered.

“I can’t believe they dragged you back so fast.” Her expression turned serious. “Take your time. You know your limits better than anyone.”

“You sound like Josh.” Tyler nodded. “I’m trying to listen to my body. Just hard to say no when they all think I’m ready to rock.”

Rolling his legs to one side and then the other, Maureen adjusted his hips expertly and then quickly cracked his back three times for good measure.

“God, that feels good. You got to teach me how to do that.”

“Once you’re back to a hundred percent. I mean it. Keep trusting yourself. Only you really know what you can handle.”

She popped a towel over his shoulder and gave him a thumbs-up. “Tuesday. Hot tub for thirty minutes. I’ve set it hotter, but you can adjust if you need.”

He nodded. He skinned out of his shorts and briefs and slid into the scalding bubbles. Maureen was a proponent of old-fashioned Epsom salts, and over the years he’d come to associate the smell with practice days. Tyler leaned back in the hot tub, letting the heat penetrate his sore muscles.

As the water pummeled him with delicious pressure, Tyler sighed and sank deeper, wishing Josh was here with him.

He ended up soaking for an hour and a half because he knew it was helping his muscles, and when he finally hauled his big butt out of the tub, his entire body was steaming and wrinkled. By the time he reached his condo and got upstairs, the sky was dark over the Pacific Ocean.

Tyler was so exhausted he ended up crashing on the balcony watching the glitter of the waves before he could take off his shoes.

Ringing jolted Tyler awake. The moon was up now. How long had he been asleep?

Fumbling for his phone, he saw it was Josh video-calling. Tyler’s heart leaped as he answered, Josh’s handsome face filling the screen.

“Hey, Coach.”

“God, it’s good hear your voice. I was starting to get worried.” Josh’s smiling face filled the screen, the familiar backdrop of his kitchen behind him. Even the sight of it made Tyler feel calmer.

He shook his head. “Passed out. What a day.”

Josh hesitated, considering the screen for a moment. “You’re not overdoing it already, are you?”

Tyler chuckled and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Of course I am. What kind of a candy-ass do you take me for?”

When he’d first returned to San Diego, Tyler had really struggled with the fakeness of all the technology they had to use to keep in contact… never touching him and having to fill the air with stilted chitchat because talking was what people did on phones. Just because they weren’t together didn’t mean they needed to act differently with each other.

One of the best parts of his time with Josh had been the easy silences. But for now, this was what they had to work with. At least now it felt less stiff and artificial.

As Tyler made himself a salad, Josh shared an amusing story about his students attempting to build a model trebuchet out of paper clips.

Tyler laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Life skills.”

“Yeah, if they want to fight the Gauls. But I can hardly fault them. Oh, and the auction wrapped up yesterday. Twenty-three thousand dollars and another sixty-one families on the petition. Carver said to tell you thank you for the extra jerseys. The library is extremely pleased.”

Even though it was so late, Tyler lived for these calls, the lifeline keeping him tethered amidst the mania.

“Everything okay there? How was the Sports Illustrated thing? That was this morning, right?”

“Fine. Well, better than the zoo deal at a minimum. At least they let me wear more than tube socks and my jockstrap.”

Josh laughed. “I bet the tigers loved you in your jockstrap. I, for one, am a big fan of you in nothing but your jockstrap and tube socks.”

“Are you now?”

“Okay, embarrassing. I guess that one hasn’t come up yet.” Josh squirmed and looked flustered. “Yeah. Big-time.” He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

“Noted.” Tyler leaned closer to his phone. “Joshua, are you having impure thoughts about me in my work clothes?”

Josh frowned. “That is completely unfair. Your work clothes are a widely acknowledged sexual fetish in most civilized countries and all porn sites.”

“Well….” Tyler wiped his mouth and said, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“You do?”

“Not that. Although I’m going to save that one for later when you need some special convincing.” As he rinsed his plate, he explained about Pedro donating shots, as well as his offer to recruit some extra celebrity support. Josh was even more thrilled than he’d hoped. Just seeing him so happy and energized steadied Tyler’s heart.

Over the past few weeks, Josh had questioned Tyler’s nonstop schedule. He seemed anxious about Tyler pushing too hard too fast. Josh always told him the truth.

“I know you want to prove yourself, but don’t do it at the cost of your health,” Josh said. “A smart athlete finds the path before trying to run.”

“I will. I’m not going to let any of these clowns bully me,” Tyler assured him. “The coaches keep telling me how strong I look, but looks aren’t what I’m worried about. I’m still exhausted a lot of the time.”

“Why?” Josh smiled at him.

“I can’t even sleep right without you in my arms. I miss you so much.”

“Tell me about it. You just listen to your body,” Josh advised. “Slow. Steady. Strong. No rushing. No risky moves.”

“Duh.” Tyler rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Hey… I prefer you in one big glorious piece.” Josh sat back into the cushions of his couch and reached for the remote. “You still have time watch a show?”

During the night calls, they had gotten into a habit of watching cartoons and movies together, mostly on the weekends or when Tyler could sneak out of an event early.

The first week, Josh had suggested they work their way through The Powerpuff Girls and Dexter’s Laboratory. They hit Play in tandem and enjoyed them like they were lounging on the same couch. The shows were short and silly enough to give them an excuse to sit quietly doing something together without having to voice all the worries preying on them.

Tyler shook his head. “I don’t think so. You look seriously beat. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Deal. If you’ll wear your jockstrap and socks next time.” Josh grinned.

“Give me two minutes and I will blow your mind.”

Josh’s brow creased. “Next time. I’m worried about you, big guy.”

“’Kay. Sorry.” Tyler started nodding off on the couch. “I shouldn’t be so exhausted.”

“Get some rest,” Josh whispered. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he ended the call.

Tyler frowned at the dark phone in his hand. The distance between them felt immense, even though he knew Josh was just a drive away.

Maybe he was asking too much, trying to maintain a relationship under the glare. He longed for the day he could return to Cinnamar and find out if what they had was built to last.

Maybe Josh deserved someone simpler, someone who could offer a quiet life back home. But the thought of losing Josh after finally having a chance with him made Tyler’s chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with his injury.

He didn’t even try for the bedroom, just curled onto his side and zonked out without bothering to turn off the lights.