Out in Time Read online

  “Yeah, let’s do it,” Wade breathed. And even to his own ears, he sounded husky and heated.

  Chapter 2

  Heath nearly patted himself on the back. All his life, he’d been accused of wearing his every emotion on his face. But, when it counted, say for instance when he was crushing on a straight guy—correction: one straight guy—he was a terrific actor. The truth of the matter was, he’d never cared for hiding his feelings ‘cause he didn’t really give a shit what anyone thought of him. How he’d made it through the last couple of years, and the last several hours in the car, keeping Wade in the dark, he’d never know.

  Now, they made their way up the flower-lined sidewalk to the home of the most talked about man in sports and in pop culture—Boyd Savage. He was still giddy over the fact that Wade had fought for him to take the photos that would accompany the article. Their chief editor had caved pretty quickly when selecting the reporter for this huge moment in student newspaper history. All Heath had to do was speak up to remind Andrea that without Wade they would have never had this opportunity. Then, Andrea said that she would email his publicist about releasing a standard photo. Heath trembled slightly with the memory of Wade perking up from his seat and objecting to that idea. He was pretty surprised at Wade’s protest since Wade was the nicest freakin’ person on the planet. Heath had never seen him get overly emotional, neither on the football field nor off. Even though Wade was passionate, he was still respectful. As a matter of fact, he’d even used the word respect in his argument—twice. With all due respect, Andrea, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for our newspaper, for our reporter—thank you for choosing me, by the way—and for our photographer. And, since Heath is getting ready to graduate and could use it in his portfolio, I respectfully request he be chosen.

  An ear-to-ear grin widened on Heath’s face as he recalled that day. How many times had he replayed that meeting in his head over the last couple of weeks? Countless. He couldn’t help it. Even though he hadn’t necessarily become friends with Wade, they were friendly. They looked out for each other at LGBTA meetings and at the paper. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be friends with Wade, but well, let’s face it—Heath couldn’t hang out with Wade and not want him.

  Sweet-as-hell, hot, unattainable Wade. And Heath had no idea he had a Southern accent fetish until he’d met him.

  He was also pretty sure his fascination and pointless lust had been the reason Chris had broken up with him. How could he be all over one guy when his mind kept unintentionally reverting to thoughts about another? So, Chris kept telling Heath that he was unavailable and distant. Heath liked Chris, so he tried to overcome that, but he didn’t even really know how to fix it. Then Chris told him in plain terms—You light up when you’re with your friends. When you’re taking pictures. When you’re rallying around the latest cause. I want you to have that kind of passion for me, for us. And you just … don’t.

  Maybe he didn’t have it in him to be a good boyfriend. He’d only had two relationships before Chris, and while they didn’t complain about any of the things Chris had, they just seemed to fizzle out over time. When the first relationship ended just before he’d left for college, it had hurt. But that wasn’t the case with the other two. Heath worried that meant something was wrong with him. Then again, he was only twenty-one. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. He did fine on his own.

  They’d reached the massive front door that was beyond ornate. He’d grown up in a house slightly smaller than this one, so he wasn’t as impressed as Wade seemed to be. Of course, Wade was the kind of guy to appreciate just about anything. He’d never met anyone who was so genuinely enthralled and captivated by things like Wade.

  Wade rang the doorbell, and Heath used that moment to do some appreciating of his own. He started with the silver T engraved cufflinks that adorned Wade’s starched white, button-down shirt that, even though probably wasn’t supposed to, stretched and clung to every one of his stunning muscles. He wore that with casual khakis, but the black dress shoes and black and tan herringbone tie dressed the pants right up. He’d joked with Wade about going all out in his attire to meet his hero, but Wade had just responded with, Used to dressing up for road games. Not to mention, my granny would have my hide if I didn’t put forth my best effort for this occasion. Anyone else saying have my hide would have earned a laugh from Heath, but coming from Wade it was so damn sincere, Heath couldn’t harass him.

  Since he was standing behind and to Wade’s left a little, he allowed himself to run his eyes over the chiseled jaw and incredibly strong cheek bones of his Southern gentleman fantasy come to life. He couldn’t make out those gaze-stealing, turquoise blue eyes of his, but he had those memorized any way. The top of Wade’s bright blonde hair had grown out from his usual short, cropped look, reminding him of Ryan Gosling in his Young Hercules days. Just then, Wade ran a huge hand through those floppy locks and then smoothed them back down. Heath’s breath caught in his throat, and Wade tossed him an excited grin over his shoulder.

  Then, the door was opening and Savage himself towered before them. If Wade’s size was impressive, Savage’s was majestic. Heath had never seen someone this large in real life. Inadvertently, he took a step back, as if his scope needed to be widened so he could take him all in. Other than having size and football in common, Wade and Savage were polar opposites. Savage was all dark, cropped hair, mocha skin with a well-trimmed beard and wore athletic pants and a Denver Broncos long-sleeved t-shirt. He had a wide, white smile for them, making him look completely unintimidating, unlike the many pictures and clips Heath had pored over while researching.

  “Hi, boys,” he drawled in an accent so close to Wade’s it made Heath’s eyes bulge. “I wish I’d known we were dressing up.” He looked sheepishly at his own attire before shrugging and moving back to gesture them inside with a sweep of his arm. They made quick introductions, which Wade took charge of. When he introduced Heath as a photographer, Heath nearly had a coronary. In a few short weeks, he would be making real money in his chosen profession. He could hardly wait.

  “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that the Wade Truman from Success, Alabama is the one to interview me from my alma mater,” Savage said as they entered what appeared to be a cozy den. Even though it wasn’t cold out, well by native Pennsylvanian standards anyway, Savage had a fire burning in the all glass fireplace. Heath glanced around, taking in the room with a practiced eye. Although the room with the dark woods and oversized sofas looked inviting, he knew he wouldn’t be shooting in here. He wanted something original for his spread. An idea made itself known, and Heath wondered absently if Savage had any pets.

  “I’m honored that you’re interviewing with us, Mr. Savage. Our little universe has been going crazy with this whole thing. You have no idea what it means to us,” Wade added in a rough voice. Heath glanced back up to see Wade standing tall and proud but his cheeks were a little red with an endearing blush that showed how pleased he was with Savage’s knowledge of him.

  Savage gestured toward some refreshments he had lined up, and they made small talk about the drive from PSU while he and Wade quenched their thirst.

  “Is here okay for the interview?” Savage asked, motioning toward two large, leather wingback chairs. They looked weathered and well-loved. Heath appreciated that. While he grew up privileged, he still loathed pomp and circumstance and meaningless possessions.

  “This is just fine,” Wade responded as he made himself comfortable. “My first unofficial question, Mr. Savage, is do you have to have your furniture specially made?”

  Savage laughed and patted the knee that was comfortably draped over one leg. “Please, call me Boyd.” He swept his warm, dark brown eyes toward Heath to encompass him in the request. “You have no idea how much money you’ll be spending on things that fit, Wade. You’re a respectable 245 now, but the big boys will you have up to around 255 in no time. That may not sound like a huge difference, but it’ll make you bulkier becau
se that’s gonna be all muscle.”

  Wade released a nervous laugh. “I can’t tell you how excited I am, but when I think of the logistics of it all, I’m so dang nervous.” That was another endearing quality of Wade’s. He never used profanity. Never. Heath had overheard many sideline conversations in his role as sports photographer, and even though he didn’t consider himself a prude by any stretch of the imagination, the overzealous football players had Heath blushing like a nun at an erotic novel reading. And in all that time, he’d never heard Wade talk that way.

  “It’ll all work out, Wade. This will probably sound even more daunting, but you’ll have so many handlers on you, they won’t allow you to mess up. You’ll be giving up control of many aspects of your life, but they all have one goal—to make you the best damn quarterback the NFL has ever seen.”

  Wade’s bright gaze met Heath’s, a measure of fear sweeping through those blue eyes that made Heath want to protect him. He glanced back to Savage. “Well, we’re here to talk about you, Mr. Sav—“ Savage cut him off with a look. “—Excuse me, Boyd. I don’t know how we got on the subject of me.”

  Savage laughed. “Boy, if you think I’m gonna have the Giants’ number one draft pick sitting in my living room and not offer him advice, or talk some football, you’re crazy. Not to mention, you’re my homeboy,” he added, goosing Wade’s arm.

  Wade grinned, and Savage continued, “Fifteen years and differing positions separate us, but you have to admit we have a lot in common. Although, you getting drafted to the Giants is another difference as well. Luckily for me, I’ve settled just an hour from the Meadowlands, so I’ll be able to catch you live on occasion.”

  “I don’t know if that makes me more nervous or more determined to play better than ever,” Wade admitted.

  “Aw, now, don’t worry about that. You just get out there and do what you’ve been doing all your life, keep your nose clean, and you’ll be successful. The Giants have a lot of faith in you. I heard you’ll be starting since their pride and joy announced his retirement.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m headed there right after graduation for conditioning.”

  “And so the ride begins,” Savage replied wistfully.

  “Speaking of rides,” Wade transitioned, bringing out his iPhone. “It’s time we got on with this one. I’ll be voice recording, but like Andrea told your publicist, Heath will be recording video as well. As you know, getting the population to read a newspaper is like pulling teeth these days. We’ll only be using a clip, which we’ll get pre-approved from you, on our website in order to entice readers.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Wade set up his iPhone to use as a recorder and took out a notebook while Heath readied his own equipment, and then Heath watched, utterly fascinated, as Wade seamlessly transitioned from admirer to reporter. Heath was never one for sports statistics, but even he had to admit Savage’s NFL record as the Bronco’s longtime running back was astounding. Wade obviously had the man’s stats memorized because he barely glanced at his notes or his questions as he glided though the first portion of the interview. Heath marveled over the professional, yet relaxed, manner in which Wade questioned Savage. Not for the first time, he admired the intelligence and intuitiveness brimming beneath the imposing figure Wade struck. Once, Heath had been surprised over Wade’s choice to major in English with an emphasis in journalism instead of communications like many of his sports brethren, but knowing Wade like he did now, it made perfect sense.

  Heath had kind of been lulled by, what he deemed, the obligatory questions, so when Wade breached that first question of what truly made this interview a much sought after one, his head shot up and he zoomed in on Savage’s features.

  The man still appeared relaxed, but Heath couldn’t help but wonder how he would feel if he had hid who he was for nearly forty years. Would he feel free? Or would he be scared out of his mind? He couldn’t imagine, especially if he had to endure it all under the brightness of the spotlight like Savage.

  “Yes, it’s been difficult,” Savage conceded to Wade’s question about coming out of the closet in their celebrity-obsessed culture. “But I have to say, I’ve received far more support than opposition.”

  Wade smiled and asked, “Many have questioned why come out now. You’re no longer as much a public figure as before, so why not just come out quietly rather than writing such an explosive book detailing your most intimate experiences?”

  “I struggled with that, to be honest. I could have just quietly lived my life, coming out only to close friends and family. But, I would have been kidding myself. Mainstream media loves to ferret out private information and expose it in the most titillating way, even about folks who are no longer in the limelight, so I hoped by putting everything out there in my own way and in my own words, it would lessen the scandalous nature and keep the wolves at bay.”

  “As I’m sure you’re aware, you’ve received some criticism from gay rights activists for not coming out sooner and taking a stand while you were still in the NFL. Did coming out while you were still in the game ever cross your mind?”

  “Of course, I knew how helpful it could be to kids growing up in similar situations—seeing someone they admire be true to himself and unashamed of who he is. But, the cold, hard truth is I wouldn’t have been allowed to play the game I love. And as selfish as it may sound, achieving my goals and having the career I’d always dreamt of meant more than being the poster boy for gay rights, and it damn sure meant more than becoming the whipping boy of the NFL.”

  “So, you feel that by revealing your sexual orientation, you would have been setting yourself up for criticism, and perhaps even retribution, from your chosen profession?”

  “Oh, absolutely. We’re all well aware of the double standard that exists in our culture. Sports figures can be convicted of crimes—spousal abuse, child abuse, drug use, etc., and will still be celebrated as a player. People will spout that off-the-field antics have nothing to do with the game. But, let someone be themselves—an openly gay man or even a Christian—and they will be devoured by the media and crucified by fans. Ultimately, that permeates the locker room as well and messes with the mind. And just like any sport, the mental aspect cannot be ignored. We’ve all watched it unfold with the two players who chose to come out before getting signed and the man who prayed openly on the field. They were beyond talented, so you can’t tell me that their personal lives weren’t the catalyst for their being shunned and that, in turn, affecting their game.”

  For the first time, Wade hesitated in his questioning, glancing to his notes as if he needed them. Heath could tell he was taking a moment though, and he knew Wade was struggling with not offering his sympathies or his opinion. Wade cleared his throat and continued, “How difficult was it for you to keep this quiet for all these years? How did it affect your relationships with those closest to you?”

  “Well, I’d told myself if I ever met anyone I could see a future with I wouldn’t hide who I was any longer. The only people who knew I was gay were my mother and my brother. They struggled with it to varying degrees, but they both came around eventually. Anyway, like I said in my book, I was focused on the game, and I certainly wasn’t a monk. But I’d never opened myself up to be in a relationship until my injury.”

  “You were sidelined for six games with an injured ankle. You said that injury was a game changer. How so?”

  “Yeah, I had to undergo intensive physical therapy for my ankle during that time, and that’s how I met the love of my life. James was in charge of my recovery.”

  Wade smiled knowingly. “Your doctor?”

  “Yes, I hired him based on the recommendation of a trusted friend, and that’s how we met. I was back in the game when things got serious with us, and I told him that I wouldn’t hide him, that I wanted to come out.” Savage frowned at the memory. “I didn’t want to be unfair to him or hurt him. He’s actually the one who encouraged me not to.”

  “Can you discuss his reasoning
behind that?”

  “James used to be a team doctor for the NFL before he started his private practice, so he was familiar with the way things worked and knew the backlash I’d be facing. He argued that we were new, and he didn’t feel slighted by us dating privately. Also, he made a good point in that I would play out my last couple of seasons under a media firestorm, and he didn’t want me to suffer that. Keeping quiet was hard on our relationship, but we weathered that and came out the other side stronger than ever.”

  Wade moved on to discuss some of the finer points of what made Savage’s memoirs so damning. How the Good Ole Boy network can be degrading as much as it is ego-boosting. How there are more closeted NFL players than anyone would ever imagine. How once homosexuality was suspected a player’s career would go from the one of the most sought after players in the business to being ousted in a matter of months. Savage credited hazing and harassment as taking its toll on the player, which ultimately showed up on the field. It was disgusting and disheartening.

  Heath pulled his eyes from the camera to focus on Wade’s strained features as Savage described a particularly troublesome situation that resulted in one player being hospitalized for drug overdose.

  “Being different and unaccepted comes with its own self-imposed hatred and denial, but when something like that gets out and you don’t know how to handle it, all those demons can rise up and eat you alive from the inside out,” Savage declared in a shaky voice.

  “Mr. Savage, I can’t thank you enough for your candor and openness today. From having read your memoirs and listening to you now, I know none of this has been easy on you, and I’m honored that you shared even more of yourself with our readers and your alma mater. If there’s one thing you’d have people take away from your story, what would it be?”

  “That love is love. And if you’re a loving person, no matter your sexual preference, your religion, your ethnicity, that you find a way to love others despite our many differences. When more people approach life this way, and I believe that we are heading to becoming a more loving society, being true to ourselves won’t be such a hardship. We won’t struggle with self-denial and self-hatred because we fear what others will think and how we will be judged.”