Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

CAULDER

My favorite thing about waking up is opening my eyes to see Lo's face on my tablet screen. He's already awake, watching me. Not that I slept much. I feel like I was awake all night. Probably tossing and turning. The way I can feel my blankets tangled around me, I think that's the case.

"Morning, sweet baby boy," Lo greets, his voice low and quiet. There's no sleep in it, so I think he's been awake for a bit.

Despite the weight sitting on top of me, making it feel impossible to even turn over, I smile. Because of his words. His smile. His voice. I love that he's here.

Well, not here, but here. He hasn't declared that this is too much drama for him, not what he signed up for, and broken up with me. It's a thing. People do that. We're in a world where so many just want everything to be easy. Everything. And that's just not the reality of life.

"Morning," I answer.

"You didn't sleep well," Lo says.

I sigh. "No. Dreamless at least, but no. My waking nightmare is that somehow this psycho is going to be able to prove that her child is mine and then I'm stuck with raising a kid that I don't want and isn't mine."

"That's not going to happen," Lo promises. "DNA doesn't lie."

"Remember when you asked me if I want children? I think this is going to leave a scar. I'm very much not wanting a kid anymore," I mutter.

"You know what makes gay parents so great?" Lo asks.

I'm not sure what this has to do with anything so I shake my head.

"Because there are no accidents with gay parents. You can't just stick it in and voilà—conception. Don't get me wrong, we're going to try like hell for that outcome. Practice makes perfect and all."

I snort, laughing. My cheeks heat because they always do with this man.

"But when we have a child, it's because we want one. No maybes. No ‘we'll have to deal with it.' No regrets. No hooking up anonymously in clubs and having a bad decision follow you around for the rest of your life. It's not easy, and it's not cheap. It's a conscious decision that requires us to employ a means to make it happen."

"I'm not sure all straight parents would agree with most of that," I say.

"I think if we did a poll and straight parents were honest, there are less planned pregnancies in the world than the pompous idiots in government and church would have you believe," Lo counters. "My cousin is a damn good mother. She loves her kids. She takes care of them. But I can promise you, not a single one was planned. She's said more than once that if she'd made different decisions earlier in life, she wouldn't have seven babies from three men. She'd be traveling the world."

"How does that make her kids feel?" I muse.

"She says these things to me. Not her kids," Lo says, laughing. "But my point is, gay men, lesbians—any same sex couples—can't accidentally have kids. When we want kids, we have to truly work to get them. That means we've not only had long discussions about it, we're also in a place to do so. We're ready."

I sigh and close my eyes. Trying to imagine what it would be like under different circumstances. If I were in a different place in my life. If this crazy woman didn't exist, making some false claims and accusations that are fucking with my life.

And my head.

We lay in bed for a while longer. Since Lo's also lying in bed, I can almost imagine that we're in bed together. As if I could feel his body heat. His hand running softly over my skin. If I squint, he's almost there.

My phone rings and I stretch beyond the tablet to reach it on my nightstand. The tablet falls flat and I hear Lo's voice muffled because the speaker is now covered by my comforter, "Just so you know, I'm licking your chest right now. And biting your nipple."

I laugh as I pull my phone to me. My stomach flips when I see it's Rigo. "I'll call you back, Lo."

"Okay," he says and ends the call as I answer my phone.

"Hi, Rigo."

"Caulder," he greets. "How'd you sleep?"

I snort. "Peachy. Please tell me you can make her go away."

"No. But there are prenatal DNA tests we can do while she's pregnant."

My chest gets tight. Why am I nervous? Fuck's sake— I didn't touch her!! "Yeah? Let's do it. Please."

"I already have it being worked on. Your lawyer is getting the paperwork together to make sure she can't deny the request for blood."

I take a breath. "Why would she do that?"

"She's getting a lot of attention. I've spent hours studying her social media and she's been begging for follows and likes for two years. She finally has it. My guess is she's going to carry this on for as long as she can."

I hate her. Have I said this out loud because I really fucking hate her.

"I'm calling about something else, though directly related." My shoulders tense. "I've sent you an image of a stilled section of her video. Take a look."

"I really don't want to. I deleted my accounts so I don't have to see any of it."

"I need you to look at it, Caulder."

Sighing, I put him on speaker phone and tap through my phone until I get to my email. Bile rises in my stomach because… yeah, that fucking looks like me! It's a dark, grainy photo, but it definitely looks like me dancing with some girl. Not the girl in the videos, but a girl.

Which is bogus because I rarely dance at all. And when I do get pulled onto the dance floor, my teammates bail me out quickly. I would not be dancing like that with anyone!

"That's not me," I say, but my voice sounds weak. Because it looks like me. This is a fucking trip.

It's on the tip of my tongue to blurt that I'm gay and I'd never touch a girl! I never have. I've danced with some, but I don't touch them. I always ensure distance between myself and them. Because I don't want to touch them, and I also don't want to give them mixed signals where they can interpret that maybe I'm interested.

"Can I call you back?" I ask, feeling the panic rise in my voice.

"Yes. I'll be here."

As soon as the call is over, I hit the recall button on my tablet. My hand is shaking. Fuck—even I think this looks like me!

Lo answers and his smile falls right away. "What happened, babe?"

"I'm sending you a picture."

I forward the email to him and wait as I watch him tap through his phone. He frowns. "Wow," he says. "That's either some mad photoshop skills or you have a doppelganger."

"Do you think announcing I'm gay is going to help or hinder this?" I ask.

Lo looks up, frowning deeper. "Caulder…"

"I want it to go away. There's apparently a test that you can do while pregnant and the lawyer is working on paperwork to demand she comply, but… I… I've never touched a woman. Ever! I'm fucking gay! I've never questioned that. I've never had a beard—metaphorically or literally. I've never tried to convince myself otherwise or experimented with women to be sure. I'm gay. I've always known I'm gay. I'm proud of who I am and I love dicks. You know, hypothetically I love dicks since I've only experienced yours, but I'm a fan."

Lo laughs. "You're adorable when you panic ramble."

I sigh. "But really, will it help or not?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know. That might be a question for someone like Rigo. Or your lawyer."

"Will you stay on video while I call him? I… I'd really love if you were here right now so I can hide my face in your chest once I say the words out loud to a second person, but here on the video where I can see you is better than nothing."

"Always, Caulder. I'm not going anywhere."

His loudest promises are the ones when he doesn't actually use the word promise. I can feel them, though. I feel them in the air around me.

I nod and dial Rigo again, putting it on speaker phone.

"Caulder."

"Is this a private line?" I ask. "No one can hear us? It's not recorded? No one can pick it up?"

"Yes, completely private."

"I'm gay," I blurt.

Lo's eyes go wide and he bites his lip. Yep, I surprised us both by just saying it. By Rigo's silence, he's surprised too.

"I'm not just saying that. I'm really gay. I like guys. Only guys." My eyes shift to Lo and he's grinning at me. I can see his amusement in his eyes.

"Okay," Rigo says after a minute.

"I'm… You're one of two people who know that," I continue. "For the record, I'm not ashamed or anything. I just don't want to be a gay athlete. I want to be an athlete. Without my sexuality attached to it."

"I understand. I have several gay athletes who are not out publicly."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

Rigo chuckles. "Yes."

"Wait." I glance at Lo on the tablet. "Uh, for transparency, my boyfriend is here. Kind of. I needed his support while I told you so I have him on video. Just so you know."

"Thank you," Rigo says. "Though I'm never going to say something that would break anyone's confidentiality. Nor yours. But yes, I have more than you might think. I understand."

I sigh. "Thanks. So… I mean what I said when I say there are literally two people who know I'm gay. You and my boyfriend. That's it. Not my parents, not my brother, not my friends. No one. I'm telling you this because… would it make a difference if I came out publicly? Would it slow this chick down or cause more damage?"

"No," Rigo insists. "You're not doing this."

I glance at Lo. He's watching me with his eyebrows raised. "I'm not?" I ask.

"No. If you want to come out for any reason other than you want to or you're ready to make it public for yourself, then I won't support it. I will not let you come out for any other reason, Caulder. Not even to shut this girl up."

Lo grins, nodding.

I sigh. "I just want?—"

"It will happen," Rigo promises. "Patience."

Lo clears his throat and I look toward him. He holds up his phone and I can see he still has the picture that I sent him up.

"Hold on a second, Rigo."

"Sure."

"How tall are you?" Lo asks.

I raise an eyebrow, unsure why this was worth interrupting for. "Six-one. Why?"

He smiles. "This guy in the photo is probably five-ten at the very most, though I'd guess he's shorter than that. Look at the people around him. The girl he's dancing with. He's only barely taller than her. And compared to those around them, she's probably average height for a female—five and a half feet, right?"

"Rigo did you hear that?" I ask. "Also, I don't own anything that looks like that shirt. I hate red. I don't even own red underwear!"

Rigo chuckles. "We can leave your wardrobe out of this, but the height difference is definitely worth noting. Good catch."

Lo smiles. "I know my man," he mouths. My skin flushes again.

"This will help, right?" I ask.

"It will."

"When will there be a statement put out? This silence from anyone that fucking matters is really getting to me."

"Soon. We've been hoping to nip this in the bud with solid, definitive proof right out of the gate—video confirmation that you never left the hotel and/or never entered the club, a paternity test—but it's slower to come by than we'd like simply because of the amount of time that's passed."

"I think something needs to be said," I push. "I'm not even on social media, but I can see it in my teammate's eyes. How much they're trying extra hard to protect me. It's sweet, but it's stressing me out."

"How do you feel about an interview?" Rigo asks. "A single, exclusive phone interview. We approve the questions ahead of time and you only answer the questions that have been preapproved. We'll also talk about your answers ahead of time, to make sure you're not saying anything that can be interpreted any other way than what you say."

"Yes," I agree. "Fine. Let's do that."

"Okay, good. I have a couple journalists in mind, so let me get in touch and I'll keep you posted. Alexandra hopes to have the court-ordered paternity test paperwork drafted and moving through the legal system by the end of the week. We'll also keep you posted."

Alexandra Hale is my new attorney. She's some bigwig woman at Van Doren Law that I'm quite intimidated to speak to, though she sounds perfectly lovely. Kind, soft spoken, even personable. Still, Van Doren Law! Gives me the chills. I didn't even ask how Rigo knows someone there.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Lo says, "but please tell me you'll be suing her for defamation and shit."

"No. I just want her to go away," I counter, shaking my head.

"She needs to have some damn consequences," Lo argues. "I want everyone to see there are consequences to fucking lies like this that can mess with a person's career and mental health. What she's doing is not okay and that's the message that needs to come from this."

"I think your boyfriend is right," Rigo says, even as I'm shaking my head. "You'll win and whatever you get from this —though I'm not convinced any damages will be paid out, she doesn't appear to be financially affluent—you can donate. I'm sure we can find an organization that supports victims in your situation."

God, that word. Victim. I understand that by definition, I'm the victim here, though at the moment, the world sees it differently. Still, it makes me feel so helpless.

"Okay, fine. I don't care. I just want her to go the fuck away. Please hurry on the paternity test too."

Rigo chuckles. "Believe me, Caulder, if we could hurry the legal system in any way, we would."

I sigh. "I know."

"Everything else okay? You need anything?"

"No. Thanks."

"Then we'll talk soon."

"Rigo?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I can't imagine… I just keep thinking that I'm so fortunate not to have someone like Felton's agent who would throw me under the bus. You're doing the complete opposite. I'm sure this is out of your contractual obligations."

"It is and it's not," Rigo says. "My job is to represent you. To look out for you. To protect you. Just because the wording sounds like it only pertains to your career doesn't mean it's the only way you need representation and protection. By all means, this is impacting your career. Maybe not from the team, but publicly."

"What you're saying is you're doing your job."

"I am. But, Caulder? Even if this didn't impact your career, I'd be protecting you. You're a good person and you don't deserve these lies to infiltrate your life like they are."

"You need a raise," I mutter.

He chuckles. "Enjoy the rest of your day. Make sure you get some sleep. I can hear the exhaustion in your voice."

Lo grins, nodding.

"Thanks, Rigo."