Coming Out Read online

  Coming Out Copyright © 2015 by Lila Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the permission from the author as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Coming Out is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found in this book are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons live or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Editing & Formatting: Hot Tree Editing

  Cover image: 6:12 Photography by Eric McKinney

  Cover Designer: LM Creations

  ISBN: 978-0-9925170-6-9

  Acknowledgments

  As always a huge thank you to Becky and her team at Hot Tree Editing.

  To everyone who LOVES Julian and Mattie as much as I do and wanted their story. My Hawks’ world wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for you reading them!

  Eric McKinney, for the beautiful cover photo.

  Louisa, for her perfect design on the cover.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Other Titles

  Chapter One

  Mattie

  A year before reuniting with Zara.

  The locker room was rowdy and cold. It didn’t help I was staring blindly into my locker wearing only a towel. Droplets of water cascaded down my body, dripping onto the floor. A shiver raked through me responding to the frigid air. Damn, had Coach even turned on the heat? I didn’t know. I knew nothing but the thoughts destroying my brain. I was a fake, an idiot, and more significantly, scared. For four years, I’d pretended to be someone I wasn’t. Four years of hiding who I was from my family; four years of hurting others in my life because I was weak.

  “Hey, Alexander,” Peterson called, poking his head around the corner of the lockers. “Coach got a masseur and it’s your turn. But watch your arse. You can just tell the guy’s gay.”

  Once he disappeared, I banged my head against my locker.

  Could Peterson, or any of the guys on the football team tell I was gay?

  No.

  Because I made sure no one knew.

  Why?

  Because I was a phoney.

  I made sure they saw me with random women, drinking and, even worse, talking shit about gay people. Each time, every comment made me sick to the stomach.

  But I knew how they were. They hated people like me. They picked on and taunted people like me.

  However, what caused me to shut my mouth for so long, what caused me to keep to myself about liking men, was what happened three years earlier. Witnessing some meat-heads bash a guy for being gay, punching out their disgust with every hit and kick, sealed my decision to live a lie.

  Bang. My head made contact with the locker.

  Shit. Why am I so weak?

  It wasn’t like my parents wouldn’t understand and support me no matter what. Heck, I knew they’d love me if I wanted to be the next Madonna in drag. Even my alpha ex-army dad, would tell me I was being stupid pretending to be someone I wasn’t.

  Some days, I wished my sister was still around to talk to, to confide in. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t be there because of yet another meat-head jerk.

  Still, a small amount of worry constantly seeped in, especially worry that my sister would turn me away—she’d hate that I was gay. Though, she did have a huge heart, so I could only hope she wouldn’t. I was being selfish for wanting her there. I was being selfish for wanting to load my troubles onto her when she had her own crap to deal with, and her crap was a lot worse than mine. Zara, my twenty-five-year-old sister, was on the run for her life, to save not only herself, but her daughter from the man she married when she was my age, nineteen.

  So she needed to stay safe, which was also why I didn’t ring or Skype with her. She’d be able to tell something was wrong and she’d come home, so I couldn’t chance it. No matter how much I needed or wanted her support.

  Hell, I had to man up and soon, for my own sanity. Which was why, later that night, I was heading home to tell my parents I was gay.

  It was a start at least, even if it scared me.

  I was sick of being weak.

  “Alexander.” Coach boomed my name.

  “Coming,” I yelled.

  “Not bloody fast enough,” Coach grumbled as I walked around the corner. “Good, you’re still in your towel,” he said, eyeing me up and down quickly. “It’s your turn to take a rub-down. New system the sponsors are doin’ for their players on the university team, to keep you all playing and happy.” He snorted. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

  “Hmm.” There seemed little else for me to say. It was easy to pretend the reason why I chose to play football was for my love of it and the experience. In reality, I knew better. It was a good front with the meat-head idiots.

  I shrugged. The pretence wouldn’t matter soon enough anyway, because I was going to quit. I planned to leave the team as soon as I came out of the closet. It’d save all the shit that’d be, no doubt, flung my way.

  Opening the door a few rooms down from Coach’s office, I walked in with my head hanging low. My mind was occupied on other things, until I heard, “Lie on the table, face down.” My head snapped up to the owner of the sad voice and my eyes landed on the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was tall. My head tilted a little to look up at him and then my eyes drifted down to see his upper arms showing he held muscle, enough to make me want to see what was under his white tee. His hair was darker than my brown, short and unruly hair. His moss green eyes glared at me.

  Shit. My dick behind the flimsy towel twitched.

  “Come on, I don’t have all day.”

  How many men had he touched already? How many men did he still have to touch?

  Thinking about it pissed me off. My nostrils flared, my body flushed in anger and I found myself clenching my jaw.

  I wanted to be the only one who he had his hands on. I wanted to…yeah, I wanted him. A shudder ran through my body imagining his hands on me. I couldn’t wait, the sooner the better, especially if my dick continued to grow hard.

  A snort touched my ears. I looked to his face as I approached the table. His nose twitched, his eyes were hard, like he was angry at me. Also within his eyes, I saw they held a certain amount of hurt.

  I could only assume he mistook the shudder for disgust or annoyance when I felt the exact opposite. I was turned on and the locker room was the worst place to be aroused.

  “I…” I started, only I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t say anything. Instead, I flattened my sore body onto the table. My face rested in the hole at the end, immediately making me think of slipping into another hole.

  Jesus. I needed to get laid. My thoughts were going to get me in trouble.

  When his hands touched my skin, I jumped, and as soon as his warm hands bit into my muscles, I clamped my top teeth down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning.

  I needed to say something, anything.

  “You…”

  Fuck it. That was obviously the best I could
do.

  “Yes, I’m gay, but don’t worry your pretty little head over it. You don’t do anything for me.” While his voice contained anger, it sounded deflated.

  Wait.

  He thought I was pretty?

  Handsome I could stand.

  But pretty?

  Wait.

  He also said I didn’t do anything for him.

  Damn.

  “I-I don’t care.” I clenched my hands as his magical fingers worked my back. Would it be ridiculous if I purred?

  Christ, I sounded like my sister. She always thought and voiced strange stuff.

  The man snorted and dug in his hands harder into my lower back.

  Goddamn, go lower. LOWER.

  “What—you don’t care that you don’t do anything for me, or that I’m gay?”

  Great. If I said yes to both then he’d know I was…inclined his way. If I said yes to the last, then he wouldn’t suspect. Something told me I wanted to wait and shock him on a later date. The game would be fun. It’d also give me a chance to get to know him.

  “The last,” I answered. “What’s your name?”

  “Julian. Why you asking, sugar? You want to scream my name later when you’re fisting your cock?”

  My eyes widened at the thought, a thought that sounded mighty fine.

  Instead, I scoffed. “No.”

  He hummed to himself. I would have loved to have known what he was thinking. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Matthew,” I said as he worked my back. Was he going to go low or not?

  My question was answered moments later when his hands suddenly left me and landed on my upper thighs. He squeezed them. I closed my eyes and mouthed, Fuck.

  “Do you like my hands on you, Mattie?” he drawled, running his hands slowly up and down the back of my legs, just inches shy of my lower arse cheeks.

  Please keep going, my dick sang.

  What am I doing? my mind thought.

  But shit, I knew it was a test, either that or he was looking to get fired on his first day.

  So I played his game. “Sure, you’re good at what you do.”

  He growled low. I smirked.

  “The other guys were running from the room by now,” he said.

  Shrugging, I said, “Why do you want to get fired?”

  He stopped, his hands fell away, and I turned to see his surprised face. Surprised I had figured him out maybe.

  Shit, he was so good-looking. I wanted to do so many things to him. I wanted to roll over and show him my erection to see his reaction. I wanted to run my hands over him, like he had me, only I would have taken it further.

  However, I did none of those. I couldn’t and it annoyed me, pissed me off. I sat up from the table, my back to him and I secured the towel firmly around my waist. I glanced over my shoulder and said, “Why don’t you just leave?”

  I knew it sounded harsh and I knew he’d take it the wrong way. I meant why did he want to get fired? Why couldn’t he just leave if he didn’t like the job? Still, I didn’t correct my mistake, even when I saw the pain in his eyes, and the flinch in his body when he did take my words the wrong way. I did nothing but stand and walk out of the room, leaving me feeling like a prick.

  I knew Julian would be plaguing my mind from that day out.

  After I showered to get the oils from my skin, I dressed and made my way home. It was hard—pun intended—not to masturbate in the shower, thinking of Julian and his hands, but there were teammates around still.

  I did think of staying until they all left. Mainly because I was worried that if Julian played the same game with all of my team mates, he could get hurt, and I didn’t like the thought.

  However, because I knew Coach was working late, I figured he also wouldn’t let anything happen, so I left.

  On the way home though was another story. My mind plagued me and I’d ended up turning my car around to check he was okay. I did this so many times, only to turn it back around and head for home.

  Somehow, after many inner arguments, I still ended up pulling into my driveway, technically my parents’ driveway, because I still lived with them. That was until I found the perfect place for myself. I’d saved and was still saving enough money with my casual job at the local real estate office that I hoped I would soon find the right house to move to.

  After I dropped the ‘gay’ bomb, I would need my own place so much more. My mum could be…a lot to handle sometimes, always questioning when I would settle down, when I would bring home the ‘right’ girls instead of the sluts I was shagging. Her words, not mine.

  Stepping into the cool night air pulled a shiver from me. I shouldered my backpack and made my way to the front door when it opened. I found a smiling Mum standing in the doorway.

  “Let me guess, you were just skyping Zara?” I asked as I kissed her cheek, and slipped in past her.

  Mum clapped her hands and gleefully said, “Yes, and I saw Maya. She is such a cutie. Then I spoke with Deanna. That woman sure can cuss like a sailor.”

  “How is everybody?” I moved my backpack to the floor near the front door and followed Mum into the kitchen where Dad was at the kitchen sink carving the roast meat. Looked like lamb.

  “Don’t forget to take your bag to your room before I fall over it,” she said before adding, “They’re all doing great. We talked about going to Melbourne one day to meet with them. Isn’t that wonderful? We just need to sort a few things out—”

  “Like what?” I laughed. “You’re both retired.” Mum was a retired nurse and Dad was an ex-army man.

  Dad put the knife down and said, “Son, you know I have bowls, darts, and other shit to do. I can’t just up and leave them. People would be lost without me. Then there’s also all the crap your mother does.”

  “Crap?” Mum demanded with her hands on her hips. “Do you even know what I do these days, Rich?”

  Dad rolled his eyes at Mum’s dramatics. I made myself busy setting the table while they bickered to each other.

  “Yes, Nancy. I know everything you do and all of it is amazing, great, super and fantastic.”

  “Don’t patronise me or you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” Mum snapped as she placed the vegetables on the kitchen table.

  “Drink?” I asked.

  “Thank you, sweetie, I’ll have a glass of wine,” Mum said and then slapped Dad’s hand away from the meat he was stealing.

  “I carved it, woman. Beer me, boy,” Dad said gruffly, then walked around the counter and placed the tray of meat on the table.

  Their relationship was…strange, but full of love. I often wondered if I would ever get to have something that precious in my life. I wanted to meet my other half, the one who would put up with my shit, like Mum does with Dad, or vice-versa.

  Julian.

  Laughing at my own thought, I sat down at the table. I looked to my Dad who took a swig of his beer, and I blurted, “I’m gay.”

  Of course, he spat his beer all over the table, his wide eyes meeting mine as the rest dribbled down his chin. He took the back of his hand up to wipe it away. I couldn’t look at Mum. For some reason, I needed to hear, to see, what Dad thought or said first.

  My heart beat out of my chest. My palms, lying on my thighs, sweated. I wanted to jump out of my own body, find those words I just said and shove them down my throat again. The silence was killing me.

  Then he shrugged and took another sip of his beer before he said, “Don’t bother me, son. As long as you’re happy with what you are, with who you want to be with, it ain’t got shit to do with me. I just want you happy, kid. If you like cock more than—”

  “Richard,” Mum yelled.

  Dad chuckled. “It don’t make a difference to me, Matthew. I love ya no matter.”

  My eyes stung. I clenched my jaw tightly together and sniffed. Shit. I never…why had I been so scared to tell them? I didn’t know. I was stupid, that was the reason why.

  Turning my watery eyes to Mum, I saw she was jus
t as bad as me; her emotions were running the show. Her bottom lip trembled and then she smiled, rose from her seat, and I scooted back as she advanced on me, her hands going to my cheeks. “You’re a brave, smart, handsome man. Nothing will change how much we love you.”

  “Mum,” I choked.

  She shushed me, kissed my forehead and pulled back to stand, that was when she said, “Now, do you have a special someone you can introduce us to?”

  Blushing, I thought of Julian once again. When she was seated, I answered, “No…not yet.”

  “Okay, well, when the time comes, we’ll want to meet him. Need to make sure he’ll be good enough for our boy.”

  Jeesh. That was something I wasn’t looking forward to. Mum would no doubt embarrass me by asking inappropriate things.

  For example, the next words out of her mouth, “Do you take or give?”

  “Nancy,” Dad barked. “Jesus Christ, woman.”

  Mum rolled her eyes. “I’m just curious.”

  “Mum, it’s not something to discuss at dinner…or ever.”

  She sighed. “Fine. Now get some grub into you.”

  Chapter Two

  Julian

  Stupid, stunning man. Why couldn’t he have been like the other dickheads in the locker room? Why was Mattie willing to remain on the table and have me touch him when he knew I was gay…when he knew I was teasing him to try to get fired?

  Maybe he was gay?

  No, I didn’t see it. I didn’t get the vibe. He was a fucking football guy.

  A pig, an idiot like most of them.

  Though, he seemed different.

  Who was I kidding; those types of guys were all the same.

  I was so goddamn, spanking annoyed that none of them tattled on me to their supervisor. How was a man on the edge, like me, supposed to get fired?

  Snorting, I exited my car and started for my apartment building. I should have known they wouldn’t have said anything. They wouldn’t want the other players knowing the gay guy…or rather, the smoking hot gay guy was rubbing them the wrong way. They wouldn’t want to be teased by the other dickwads.