Immoral by Nicole Dykes

This is insanity.

What the hell was I thinking letting him stay here?

I sip my coffee, sitting at the bar in my kitchen, looking out the window as I go over last night. I told him fucking everything. We’ve been apart for seven years but picked up right where we left off.

Well, minus the kissing.

Fuck me. This is bad.

“Ry, tell me you have coffee.” Grady bounces into my kitchen without a care in the world—or clothes.

Motherfucker.

Is he really standing in my kitchen wearing only a pair of tight black briefs?

What the hell is he trying to do to me?

I don’t look. I can’t look. I point toward the coffee pot with already brewed coffee and look out the window.

“Hell, yeah. You have the good shit.”

I roll my eyes but smile into my coffee mug. Same ole Grady.

He walks over to where I am and sits down, his long lanky legs draped over the stool next to mine. I notice he has tattoos on his muscular thighs. He notices me looking, and I can feel him grinning before I even look up and see it on his ridiculously handsome face. “I went a little ink-crazy.”

I shrug, trying hard not to give a fuck. “They aren’t bad.”

He lifts his right arm, turning to show me his ribcage that has ink scrolled over most of his side. “Nah, most are good, but this one . . .” He points to one that’s in messy writing I can barely make out. “This one was supposed to be badass, but it got fucked up.”

“A professional did that?”

He chuckles. “I think so, but it wasn’t here. I was abroad somewhere. I forgot where.”

I study his face and shake my head. “You were drunk.”

“Totally.”

“What’s it supposed to say?” I take the opportunity to study his side but still can’t make out the words. My eyes drift over to his smooth stomach. It’s defined but not overly so. Flat and toned with a sexy thin trail of dark hair leading south.

I swallow hard, trying to get control of my body as I meet his eyes when he answers my question. “Lyrics. Or they were supposed to be. Really, it’s just fucking jibberish.” I raise my eyebrow, and he chuckles, “Queen. But they fucked it up. Or I told them wrong. I need to get it fixed.”

“Still a Queen fan, huh?”

“Who the fuck isn’t?” He grins with an adorable challenge in his eyes that I back down from. Of course, I love the band.

I’m about to profess my love for Queen when my front door bursts open, and I hear heels clicking on my floor.

Goddamn it. Just what I need right now.

“What the fuck?” Grady looks at Jenny in horror as she struts inside.

She looks at him with disgust and then spits venom my way, “What the fuck is a naked Grady Bell doing in your kitchen?”

“I’m not naked.” He turns to me. “Who the hell is this?”

I don’t get a chance to answer him. “Fine. A mostly naked Grady Bell. Are you trying to give me a coronary?”

“Relax, Jenny.” I stand up and place my now-empty coffee mug in the sink, glad I pulled on sweats and a t-shirt before coming to the kitchen. Me being in my underwear too would really set her off.

She holds up her dainty little hand and then looks a little taken aback. “Wait. Grady Bell is gay?”

“I’m not gay.” Grady doesn’t sound defensive, just setting her straight, but it still does a number on my stupid fucking heart.

“He’s not. He’s a friend.”

Her perfectly manicured eyebrow lifts, studying me. “Fine. Whatever. One crisis at a time.”

“Seriously, who the fuck are you?” Grady just can’t keep his mouth shut.

She turns to him, not offended but definitely raging. “I’m the best goddamn sports agent in the country.”

He turns to me. “You told your agent you’re gay?”

I rub my temples with one hand. “If I hadn’t, you just did.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry.” He’s not, and it makes me laugh, which annoys me.

“Are you actually laughing?” Jenny studies me, and I think about it. I doubt she’s ever heard that sound from me.

“Yeah.” I look over at Grady. “And yes, she knows.”

“I know,” she says, pointing to her chest. “But the world fucking can’t.”

“That’s some real bullshit,” Grady grumbles, and again, I smile. How could I ever have thought he wouldn’t have my back?

Of course, I think deep down I knew he’d be fine with me being gay—but him not returning the feelings I had for him—yeah, I couldn’t handle that shit.

“Quiet, okay? I need to talk to my client.” Jesus, Jenny is a fucking ballbuster.

“What’s wrong now?” I ask hoping to get the heat off Grady. He didn’t hire her. Definitely doesn’t deserve her wrath.

“That fucking twink from the other night—he took a picture.”

My blood runs cold for a minute as I try to go over the night. But it’s Grady’s voice I hear next, “I think that’s offensive.”

I look over at his face, all scrunched up and annoyed and try not to laugh. Jenny ignores him.

“There’s no way. He didn’t have his phone out. What kind of picture?”

She digs for her phone in her purse and then holds up a pic of me and the cute guy from the other night. We’re both fully clothed, outside a bar. Standing near each other, but it’s clearly a posed photo.

Grady moves in, examining the photo. “That’s your type, huh?”

Not really.I glare at him and then look at Jenny. “It’s like every other fan photo I’ve ever taken. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is this guy is clearly gay. And you have your arm around him.”

“Okay, I know that’s offensive. You can’t just assume he’s gay from a picture.” Grady is starting to get pissed, but I don’t need or want him fighting my battles for me.

“He’s not wrong.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. You do not pay me to be politically correct or woke. You pay me to tell you the truth, and the truth is your fan base will assume he’s gay. And he is.”

Grady moves back to his stool, and I can tell he’s stewing but staying quiet.

I shrug, growing tired of her. “So what? It’s not like my dick was in his mouth. At least in the pic.”

She growls, and Grady chuckles.

She pokes my chest with her bony little finger. “You know your fucking audience. They’re about a step up from NASCAR fans. They’re God-fearing, beer-drinking, Bible-thumping, country-loving assholes, and they won’t like this.”

I cringe and want to argue. Obviously, some of my fans are like that but nowhere close to all.

“Oh, come the fuck on. The world is different now. He doesn’t need to hide who he is. The world of sports is changing too.”

Her eyes narrow in Grady’s direction. “Yeah, that’s really sweet. And in your rock and roll lifestyle, they’d applaud you for a picture like that. But sports have not changed.” She looks at me. “I don’t think it will until after you’re retired.”

“Then maybe I’m in the wrong industry.”

I can feel Grady’s intense stare on me, but I don’t look at him. Jenny softens but only a little and places a hand on my shoulder. “A few more months. They’re going to renegotiate that contract. You have to be good. Get the best one you can locked-in. Then you can do pretty much whatever you want.”

My stomach actually physically aches, thinking about all this bullshit, but I remain stoic. “Fine. Whatever. It’s not like I can take it back now.”

“Just be careful.” Her eyes glance toward Grady and then back to me. “Really careful.”

I hear him snort behind me, but don’t care as I lead Jenny toward the front door. I let her out and feel relieved when the door closes behind her.

“She’s a cunt.”

I turn around to see Grady and grin like a fucking fool. “That’s offensive.”

He laughs and then punches my shoulder. “What are you doing with an agent like that?”

“She really is the best.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “I’m going to go take a shower. Try not to be too offensive while I’m gone.”

He laughs, walking toward the kitchen. “Who am I going to offend? You don’t even have a fucking house plant.”

I laugh but feel a pang of sadness because he’s right.

There’s not one living thing in my house.

Sometimes I worry I’m not even a living thing these days.