Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend #4)(5)
“What was that? Didn’t hear you,” I taunt.
He fights back but not hard, and I begin to think I’ve read too much into his radio silence the last few weeks, because this is us. It’s what we do.
We goof, we joke, and our antics could be mistaken for that of teenage boys.
Coach Caldwell’s voice puts an end to it though. “Cut the shit, Talon. Everyone, take a seat.”
There’s a round of grumbles, and I don’t realize what they’re for until Coach starts his speech. It doesn’t go the way these things normally do. We’re sat down like children and told how to play nice with the new gay kid on the team. That’s paraphrasing, and it sucks that Jackson has to go through this at all. I want to yell out that this whole damn thing is unnecessary, but if the glares certain teammates are sending Jackson’s way are any indication, it seems we’re not all up to date with the love is love movement.
It’s a sad day when I’m considered more mature than others.
Once we’re released, some of the guys hang around on the field, but Miller stalks off like he’s on a mission. He’s not gonna get away so easy.
I catch up to him and throw my arm around him. “Dude, where’s the fire? Was gonna go for a beer.”
His shoulders stiffen under my arm, but that doesn’t mean anything. The guy’s a tank. His shoulders are probably ninety-nine percent muscle and always that hard.
“I’ve still gotta put in a few more hours in the gym.” He rubs his stomach. “Definitely ate too much crap over break. Training is going to kill me if Coach doesn’t first.”
“All right. Guess I better put in the hours anyway.”
Miller looks down at his feet, and I’m back on the he’s-ignoring-me bandwagon. I grab his arm to stop him from walking down the tunnel toward the locker rooms.
“Are we cool?” I ask.
He pulls back, almost taken off guard or confused. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I dunno, man. You’re acting weird.”
Miller shakes his head. “Just got a lot going on right now. Not all of us were born superstars like you. We have to actually work for it.”
“What the fuck?”
He has never said that kind of shit to me before, and he knows how much I hate it. I may play hard, but I work harder. Everyone only ever sees what they want to, though, and that’s usually the fun side of me.
“You know what I mean, Talon. You have more natural talent in your arm than any of us do in our entire bodies.”
“That’s because I’m Talon-ted … Get it? Talon-ted.”
Miller huffs, but I can’t work out if it’s a true laugh or he’s pitying me.
“Well, it’s not funny if I have to spell it out,” I mumble.
He shakes his head. “I can’t lose my place on this team. I … I need to focus.”
“Got it.” I think Miller’s full of it, but he isn’t completely wrong. We should be hitting the weights to get back in top physical form for the season to start.
I let him walk away, and for the first time since I moved here, I realize things between us can’t easily go back to the way they were in college.
Apparently being a grown-up means shit changes, and if that’s the case, when the fuck did I get old?
*
I always figured a life-altering moment would begin with a gut warning or spidey senses telling me something’s not right. But no. Apparently, whatever controls my life, whether it be fate, the universe, or a god with a sick sense of humor, whatever it is, they’re probably laughing their ass off at me right now.
With Miller being weird, I had the plan to drag Jackson out for a few drinks. The coaches have roomed us together because of my status and his … gayness. They think having me around Jackson will give him some sort of protection. I’m happy to do it, but I wasn’t expecting the eyeful I just got.
It’s nothing I haven’t seen before being on the road with testosterone-filled athletes who need to blow off stress, but this was different.
Jackson and his boyfriend, Noah, were going at it when I walked in, and I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.
I stood, mesmerized by their bodies moving against one another. Hard muscle against Noah’s toned frame, miles of bare skin, light against dark … Even though they were rutting against each other like animals in heat, Jackson whispering claiming words of love and forever while they got totally lost in one another is what I can’t get out of my head.
As soon as they realized I was there, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I have no idea what I said or did, but my feet led me down to the lobby as fast as they could carry me.
Now, sitting at the hotel bar with a glass of scotch in front of me, I can’t bring myself to take a drink in fear I won’t be able to swallow it without choking.
It’s not from disgust or shock or whatever someone might expect a straight guy to feel when seeing two men naked and writhing, moaning manly sounds and grunts, and covering each other in cum. Nope, it’s the utter surprise of how much I liked it that’s freaking me out.
Not just liked it but got hard over it, and I don’t mean a little twitch of interest. My cock was practically sticking straight up as if volunteering to join them.