Royal Indiscretion, chapter 33 (Patreon)

“I will speak to him,” Yves said before he sent a quick glance over in Doug's direction. 

Doug had a fairly good idea of what Caro was suggesting because she had suggested it to him, but he wasn't sure how Yves might respond. If he agreed to fake a relationship because he felt regret over Doug's career, that would gut Doug. Because the more Doug got to know Yves, the more he suspected that he was falling for the man.

“I will return your call quickly.” Yves gave a startled jump and then he looked over at Doug. “She hung up on me.” He had an adorably offended voice.

“She does that on a fairly regular basis.” Doug shrugged. “I don't know whether she is trying to prove that she’s tough, or if she is just so busy she doesn't have time for two seconds of polite bullshit, but when you work with her, you get used to getting hung up on.”

“Oh.” Yves put the phone down. “I find that quite shocking.”

“At one point, I did too. I got over it.” Doug cleared this throat. “So, what you think of her plan?”

Yves's eyes grew wide. “You know what she has planned?”

“I know what she would like to do,” Doug said. “But I told her that she had to get permission because she couldn’t launch that one without some sort of go-ahead.”

“Yes, as opposed to you who launched this insane assassination of your own character without any sort of go-ahead from me.” Yves did have a beautifully sharp command of sarcasm.

“My career, my go-ahead.” Doug leaned back and tried to project confidence, but he was a little worried. Did he need his sponsorships? No. Did he want to keep them? Hell to the fucking yes.

“Do you suffer a congenital form of insanity?” Despite the harsh words, Yves came over and sat on the other half of the tiny couch.

Doug grinned. “That's part of my boyish charm.”

Yves looked suddenly uncomfortable, and he cleared his throat. 

The grin fell off Doug's face. “We don't have to do this. This is Caro’s fantasy of having a perfect PR moment, but if we just convince people that we’re friends, that would be enough to undo the damage. The press might even start publishing stories of how big of an asshole your father is for spreading rumors.”

Yves looked about the room, never catching Doug’s gaze. “I fear that if we are friends, people are going to make assumptions. Either we are romantically linked, which would explain my willingness to turn my back on my father, or you are my new source of drugs.” He frowned. “Or I am your new source of money, but I don't imagine that you actually need a source of money. You do make insane amounts on your own.”

Disappointment was bitter in Doug’s mouth, but he kept his tone even. “You'd be amazed at how many people who have my salary need another source of income. The only thing football players are better at than throwing a football is spending money. Hell, when I want to travel, I figure out who is going my direction, and then I hitch a ride on their ridiculously expensive private jet. Saves me from having to pay for a commercial flight.”

Yves huffed and shook his head. “I admire your thriftiness. My father always seemed to emphasize fiscal responsibility when it came to everyone else, but then he spent lavishly on himself and his own estate. I always hated the hypocrisy.”

“Most people do. It’s on my top ten list of things that make me really hate a person, right up there with homophobia and racism.” Doug thought about how that sounded. “Well, maybe not that high, but on the same list.”

Yves finally looked over at Doug. “You are such a contradiction.” He had such a tone of wonder that Doug was caught off guard.

“Oh?”

“You came here looking for a loveless marriage, and yet you are so… Good.” Yves shifted on the couch so he faced Doug, and the small space meant their knees touched. Doug felt like he was in a whirlwind of mixed signals.

“I had a temporary moment of stupidity. A credible source told me that even if I married up in terms of titles, it wouldn't actually give me any additional respect. So I gave up on that plan.”

“And is this a new plan?” Yves asked, his voice a little sharper.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I your flawed back plan because you couldn't get a royal lady to like you?”

“Fall-back,” Doug corrected him, “And you definitely are not. I didn't intend to meet someone I liked, but I did. However, if we’re going to be honest, being gay and being in the NFL is still going to be difficult. Do I like you? Yes. Do I like you because you would make my life easier? No.” The league was better than they had been in the past, but players still carried all the flaws of the outside world. Most of the guys would ignore Doug’s love life. A few would congratulate him; fewer would avoid him or make shitty comments under their breath. They would change clothes in the far end of the locker room. They would start to consider Doug an outsider—for some positions on the team, that might not be such a big deal. However, Doug was the quarterback. A significant burden for holding the team together fell on his shoulders, and if he couldn’t work with homophobes and keep them from dividing the team, he wouldn’t keep his job long.

That’s what he risked if he followed Caro’s plan, and he wasn’t going into that blind. Yves studied him as though Doug were a puzzle. His hands twitched in his lap like he was playing an invisible piano. After a few long minutes, Yves stilled.  “English is such an imprecise language. What do you mean by like?”

This was where the rubber met the road. If Doug put himself out there, he risked having Yves laugh in his face, or worse, look sympathetic. Yves was not the sort to laugh, but Doug didn’t have the fancy background or expensive schooling that impressed royals. Doug’s other choice was to play this off as a rescue plan that got out of hand. Part of Doug wanted to do the second. He wanted to give himself some sort of cover because there was no one watching his back. If Yves decided to sack him, it was going to hurt.

Doug took a steadying breath. “Caro’s plan would not be playacting for me. I would like to pursue a romantic relationship.” Yves’s expression definitely wasn’t sympathetic. Hell, he appeared to be demonstrating the meaning of gobsmacked. “You’re tough,” Doug said. “The things you survived are incredible, and yet you still have this humor and goodness that your father has not managed to pound out, and for the life of me I don't know how. I had a mother who loved me and blunted the worst of my father's emotional damage, and you've managed to come through on your own. You're a stronger man than I am. And it doesn't hurt that you're cute as hell.”

An explosive laugh burst out of Yves, spraying Doug’s arm. “Oh dear. I apologize.” Yves leapt up. “Let me get a towel. That was… that was unforgiveable.” He hurried to the bathroom, and Doug sat there with his tattered dignity. Sneeze juice was the least of his worries, but Yves bent over him with a hand towel started mopping his arm. “I am so sorry. You caught me off guard.” 

“Obviously,” Doug said. 

Yves gave him an odd look. “You must admit that I am not really what someone might call cute. I’m a little too angular for that term.”

Doug frowned. “Wait. That’s what you laughed at?”

Yves stood. “Well, yes. What would I laugh at?”

“I don’t know—an uncouth American putting his feelings on display?” Doug stopped. Yves had him so turned around that he wasn’t sure what to do or say.

Yves sat on the coffee table so fast that it looked as if he legs had gone out from under him. “You are a kind, attractive, rich man who is insane enough to put everything at risk to save me. Why would I find your interest humorous?” He sounded utterly confused.

They were both such idiots that Doug shook his head. “We can talk about our mutual insecurities later,” he said. “Do you want to give the press the big, romantic story?”

Yves frowned. “I would like the big romance. I am slightly more afraid of the press. They have been rightly critical of me in the past.”

“Then we show them you can change. That’s what I had to do. I had to get anger management therapy and get out and volunteer and show everyone that I wasn’t my father’s son. But we can play this any way you like.” 

Yves gave him a small smile. “I would like to try for a romance, but I will admit that I am not experienced. Most of my relationships have been drug-fueled bumbling in the dark. Rudy was the only person I bumbled with more than once, and I suspect his interests lay in my ability to help him get drugs.”

“He is an ass. Can I punch him if he comes around?”

“I would agree, only I think that would violate the expectations of your anger management therapy. Speaking of therapy, I think my first step should be finding an NA meeting, preferably before I see any more potential drug dealers on the street. I have limited self control.”

Doug rested a hand on Yves’s knee. “You have more than you give yourself credit for, but I have a list of local meetings that have a family group meeting at the same time.” Yves gave him a confused look. “Caro is very thorough with her work,” Doug explained.

“I was actually wondering why you would look for a family meeting. You don’t need to waste your time at one of these functions.”

Doug tightened his hand around Yves’s knee. “If I’m going to fall for you, I want to know how to fall without getting either of us hurt. So you do your meeting, and I’ll do mine.”

Yves put his hand over Doug’s. “You really are quite skilled at being a knight in shining armor.”

“I try,” Doug said. “But you’re the one who rode in to my rescue, including the whole clandestine secret rendezvous and borrowed uniform, so I’m not the only hero here. And I promise you, my armor is pretty tarnished. I wanted to marry a woman so I could get fancy people to respect me. I’m pretty sure that makes me a jerk.”

“I think that makes you human,” Yves countered. “So, where is this meeting? I need to find a local sponsor before I do something horrible, and I am not about to confess my worst sins to you.” He tightened his hand around Doug’s. “Not yet.”

Doug nodded. He understood. He wasn’t in a hurry, so if Yves needed time, that was the least Doug could do. And once Yves felt a little more settled, then Doug could broach the subject of how they were going to handle Duke Gerard. Doug really wasn’t willing to let that man get away with what he’d done. Maybe Doug’s therapist had taught him how to handle his anger better, but it was still there, simmering under the surface. Duke Gerard was about to find that out.