Summary:
The boundaries of our friendship are tested and lines are crossed.
RUSH: I’m in love with my best friend.
There wasn’t an exact moment when I fell for him. It was something that grew and evolved over time. He loves me back, but it’ll never be more than platonic. It can’t be because he’s straight.
Then one night he kissed me and left me with more questions than answers. The very next morning my trust was shattered by a family secret. I’d been lied to my whole life. He was by my side through it all, offering support when I needed it most.
How can I risk losing a friendship that held me together when I was falling apart?
TORIN: He friend-zoned me.
Four years ago, I gathered enough courage to kiss my best friend. What I’d hoped would be a pivotal moment that would start a new kind of relationship between us was over before it began. His world was upended, so I put my feelings aside and stepped back into my role as a friend he could count on.
He wasn’t ready then, but now it’s time to find out if he’s willing to take a chance on us being something more.
We’ve been friends, roommates and teammates, but I want him, body and heart.
Quarterback Sneak is a low angst, high steam novella about childhood friends, trust and football.
Summary:
We're friends, teammates—and we hook up. Often.
Shaw: He's intense and the heat of his stare is hot enough to set fires.
The first time we got together, it was a spontaneous earth-shattering moment. I wanted more. So, of course I popped the question.
“Yours or mine for round two?” That’s where the trouble began. We agreed on an exclusive, no strings arrangement. When one of us is ready to walk away, we'll still be friends. Perfect, right?
He's not exactly a people person—understatement of the year—but I've seen the real him and he's so much more than the broody loner others see him as.
But the brilliant plan backfired. I accidentally caught feelings.
Bishop: He could be my game-changer but there's a problem.
He put a dent in my armor when he decided I needed a friend. Then he managed to crawl under my skin—and between my sheets.
He's the one person in the world I trust, and he's mine, for as long as this lasts. But I think I messed up and likely lost him for good.
The role in my family's company I've been groomed for my entire life competes with my growing feelings for him. Turns out I can't have them both.
What a terrible time to realize he means more to me than just a friend and convenient hookup.
Being friends with benefits is the perfect arrangement until someone falls in love.
Broken Play is a story about finding that one person that gets you, choosing your own future and the love of football.
Summary:
Rendon: Nash is football royalty in this town and has an ego to match.
We met at a party--the last place I wanted to be. Full of confident swagger, the campus playboy approached me. It was hard to believe he was interested in me, but he was. Interested in hooking up, that is.
When things ended before they really even began, we agreed once the semester started it'd be best to keep our distance from each other. But I'm the only one holding up my end of the deal.
He thinks he can just waltz back into my life, turn on the charm and have me with a simple snap of his fingers. He can't.
Nash: Rendon is off-limits but I want him anyway.
With dreams of going pro depending on my current season, I know I should have stayed away from him. Hooking up with a teammate's younger brother was asking for trouble.
It's been months since I've seen him and the moment I set eyes on him my already cracked resolve crumbles to dust. That small taste of him I had isn't enough. It will never be enough.
Now that he's back on campus to stay, I plan on picking up where we left off... Except now he says he doesn't want me.
Rendon may be a virgin but Nash is the one who has no clue what he's doing.
Recovered Fumble is the third book in the Sugar Land Saints series and the first full-length novel. It's a story about opposites with undeniable chemistry, a well-rounded education and the love of football.
Quarterback Sneak #1
One
Rush
Senior Year of High School
Music blared from a truck’s speaker system as we sat around a crackling bonfire. The chatter of friends droned in the background, and some danced to the pounding beat. Sweat dotted my brow, even as the late fall breeze cooled my back.
The smell of burning wood drifted through the air as I took a pull of my beer, the bitter liquid coating my tongue before sliding down my throat.
My best friend, Torin, and I sat in matching weathered folding chairs with a small blue and white cooler on the ground between us. I’d snagged my uncle’s beer from the mudroom refrigerator and then driven us the short distance to the open field behind an abandoned farm.
Every year during bye week, the team got together. It was tradition, and we were supposed to spend it like family, bonding or whatever. I glanced around at the scene and sighed. While Torin and I never did, most of the guys brought girlfriends or buddies, completely disregarding the reason for the night. It almost made me question why we bothered. But in small town Texas, you didn’t mess with football traditions. Even the cops looked the other way, knowing damn well there were minors with alcohol.
As seniors, Torin and I had bigger things to focus on. We were both being heavily scouted by colleges all over the US, but we both had our hearts set on staying in Texas and close to our families.
The rusted metal chair next to me creaked and groaned as Torin leaned forward in it, resting his elbows on his knees as he sipped his beer. He considered the can in his hand with a look of disgust. “This stuff is nasty.”
The corner of my lip kicked up. It was one of the worst things I’d had the displeasure of tasting but swallowed another mouthful anyway. I shrugged as I leaned back in my chair, dangerously balancing on the back two legs.
“It was the best I could do.” While my parents wouldn’t buy it for me, if they discovered I’d taken it, they’d turn a blind eye like everyone else in town. As long as I threw him some cash, I doubted my uncle would care. “Beggars can’t be choosers, T.”
A small six-pack was all I managed and I shared with Torin because, well, we’d always shared everything. He’d been my best friend since Mrs. Carmine’s Pre-K class when we discovered we shared a birthday. And then our mutual love of football cemented our friendship forever.
“Well, your uncle has bad taste.” Despite his words, he brought the can to his generous lips again and then he grinned, flashing his straight white teeth.
My gaze roamed over his familiar face, tan skin, cobalt-blue eyes that glowed from the flames, and messy blond hair that stuck out from under his hooded sweatshirt. I studied the face of the boy I’d been in love with for as long as I could remember. The face of the man I still did.
His smile faded as he stared back at me intensely. “What?”
“Nothing.” I cleared my throat and chuckled uneasily. “It’s the cheap stuff and since he’s sleeping on our couch, I don’t think he has much money. Although I don’t doubt he also has bad taste.”
Torin frowned as he worked the tab of his beer back and forth until it broke off. “I wonder what his deal is anyway.”
“No idea. My parents still haven’t said anything other than his girlfriend kicked him out and he needed a place to crash.” I’d only met the guy one other time and it was a little odd to have him in our house still, three weeks after he showed up on our doorstep.
“Don’t know how long he’ll stay?”
“Nope.” The word popped on my lips.
Though a cold front had come through the day before, the fire was just too hot. I was dressed in track pants and a t-shirt and sweating my ass off. I took my hat off, letting the cool wind that swept through the surrounding tall grass ruffle my short brown hair. At the same moment, Torin shivered. While I was always hot, he was always cold. Once the sun had set, the temperature had dropped a few degrees, adding more bite to the night air.
“Are you cold?” I planted the front two legs of my chair back safely on the ground and slouched down, crossing my ankles in front of me.
Torin reached down between our chairs, breaking eye contact, and tossed his empty can in the cooler before grabbing another. “I’m okay.”
Ready to argue with him about leaving, I opened my mouth, but he spoke first.
“So how are you feeling about this season?” he asked while popping the tab of his third beer.
I’d spent the last year working out and bulking up as much as possible. Being six-six and weighing much more than most of the guys, I played my position well. Though my build wasn’t typical of a center because I carried my weight in solid muscle, I was large and immovable. Torin had started as a quarterback when we were kids and the role stuck. I liked that we worked as a unit. We always played on the same team, me being the one who snapped the ball to him each play and the first in line to protect him from our opponents. It was a job I took seriously.
I placed my cap back on my head and adjusted the bill. “Honestly, I’m in the best shape I think I possibly can be. Maybe playing the best ball I ever have. I hope the scouts like what they see.”
A choked sound left Torin’s throat and once again I faced him, meeting his amused expression.
“I didn’t mean you. You’re perfect.” His crooked grin made an appearance as a lump lodged itself in my throat. He tipped his chin toward a small group of younger Varsity members. “I meant them. Do you think they’ll carry the team well when we leave next year?”
“I mean, they might have a hard time replacing us.” I winked at him and he rolled his eyes. “But I think they’ll be all right.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just going to be weird leaving this behind, but I’m excited too. You know? I guess it’s just now really hitting me.” He stood, rising to his full six feet, and held his beer out. “Hold this? I’ll be right back.”
After Torin handed me his can, he headed for the tree line. My gaze dipped to his ass encased in a pair of stonewash jeans that fit perfectly. It wasn’t the first time I checked Torin out, and it wouldn’t be the last. I couldn’t stop if I tried, and I had tried. It was distracting in the worst way.
Ripping my gaze away, I stared into the fire. I wasn’t in denial. My attraction to Torin went beyond skin deep, and my feelings for him crossed every boundary of platonic friendship. Though he knew I was bisexual, he never brought it up, and it didn’t seem to bother him. But he definitely wasn’t and had girlfriends off and on in the past. It was just the way things were, and to keep him in my life, it was something I had to deal with.
I’d had girlfriends too, but never a boyfriend. Even though both of my parents knew I was into both women and men, I wasn’t ready to make it common knowledge. I also didn’t think it would be fair to date anyone when my heart was completely invested in one person already.
Sighing, I tilted my head back and finished my beer before throwing it in the cooler and closing the lid. The drive home would be short but my limit was two.
“Rush.”
I heard my name and glanced around until I spotted Brian, another senior, trying to get my attention. “What’s up?”
“See the brunette over by Cassie?” He tilted his head toward his girlfriend who danced with a girl I didn’t recognize. She wore a dress that floated up every time she spun around, showing everyone more than her moves. “She’s into your boy, Torin. Thought he might appreciate easy pickings. Where’d he go?”
Brian glanced over my shoulder, and my jaw clenched. I had to remind myself if I didn’t want to be suspended, I couldn’t knock him on his ass.
“Here and not interested.” Torin’s smooth voice came from behind me with a note of disgust that echoed the roll of my stomach. He approached my side, took his beer I was holding and poured it out on the ground. “I think I’m ready to leave.”
“Really?” Brian asked with a look of disbelief. “She’s only visiting for a week before she goes home. Hell, she lives in a different state—”
“Not interested,” Torin repeated calmly before returning his attention to me. “You ready?”
“Let’s go,” I agreed and stood, giving Brian my back.
We said our goodbyes and then collected our two chairs and cooler before we carried them to my truck parked only a few yards away. We tossed the chairs into the back before I drained the melted ice onto the ground and slid it in beside them.
When I climbed in the driver’s seat, Torin was already in the cab with his head leaning on the window.
“Everything all right?” I asked while I pulled my keys from my pocket and then cranked the engine. The old beat-up frame rattled when the engine roared.
He faced me with a tired grin. “Yeah, just sleepy. You mind if I stay over?”
“Why would I mind? You stay over all the time or I’m at your place.” I had to drive in a giant circle in the field before I could get back on the rocky road and head toward home.
When I glanced over, Torin shrugged. “Just making sure.”
Confused, but blaming it on a random odd moment, I let it go.
My parents’ house sat on ten acres—a small ranch-style home surrounded by mud, grass and tall green trees. There was a small pond and a run-in shed where my mom’s appaloosa mare, Lucy, rested for the night.
I drove down the long driveway, a mixture of grass and rock. After pulling around back, I parked next to the giant oak tree with an old tire swing still hanging from a branch though no one used it.
Torin and I got out of the truck and he stopped by the tailgate. “Should we take this stuff inside?”
I waved him off. “I’ll get it in the morning.”
It was already past midnight and a shower before crawling into bed sounded like pure bliss.
We entered through the back door, depositing our shoes in the mudroom, and I peeked around the corner. Mom and Dad’s door down the hall was closed, and the glow from the TV lit up my uncle’s tall sleeping form stretched out on the couch. Torin and I crept down the opposite hall to my room. Once the door shut behind us, I began to empty my pockets of my phone, wallet and keys onto my unfinished wood dresser. Torin did the same, setting his things next to mine.
“Do you mind if I grab a shower first?” he asked, already peeling his shirt over his head.
Deliberately not glancing his way, I waved in his general direction. “Go for it.”
The en-suite bathroom door clicked shut behind me before the sound of the shower turning on filtered through the door.
I tugged my shirt over my head and then pulled my pants off before picking them up and shoving them in the laundry basket in the corner. A loud thud came from the other side of the bathroom door that sounded like something heavy getting knocked over followed by Torin’s curse.
“Rush,” he yelled before I could ask if he was all right.
“Yeah?” I called back.
When there was no answer, I sighed and went to the door. Cracking it open, I found Torin with his head poking out around the curtain.
“Can I borrow something to wear? The blue shorts?”
He still had shampoo in his hair, and I bit back a grin. “Give me a minute.”
Torin borrowed my clothes often enough that I was tempted to start his own section in my closet. I retreated to my room and dug around until I found the blue pair of drawstring shorts he could tighten around his leaner waist before taking them back to the bathroom.
When I opened the door I didn’t expect him to be out of the shower, much less naked and running a towel over his body. His long, thick cock hung between his toned thighs and I bit back a groan. After having gawked at him a beat too long, I spun around and held the shorts out behind me. “Sorry, man. I didn’t hear the water turn off.”
He took them from me. “It’s cool.”
But it wasn’t. I didn’t want him to think I’d done that on purpose, but I wasn’t in a position to express my concerns. My boxer-briefs grew tight as my cock continued to swell as all my blood rushed south. Needing to make an escape, I bolted back into my room and busied myself, packing my gear for the next day and then grabbing clean underwear.
I waited for him to come out before passing him, careful not to brush against him, and then locked myself in the bathroom where I took several deep breaths until I gained control and then climbed into the shower. My cock was still half hard, and the temptation to wrap my hand around my shaft to get off was strong. Though I’d had weak moments in the past, I didn’t want to do it to the thought of my best friend, especially when he was just on the other side of the door. It felt like I was betraying him.
My shower was quick and efficient before I brushed my teeth and slipped on my underwear. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I ran a hand over my short wet hair. Hazel eyes, olive skin and sharp features stared back at me as I gave myself a mental pep talk. He’s your best friend. Stop thinking about his fucking cock.
Satisfied and confident that the situation was under control, I picked up my towel and exited the bathroom. Torin was curled up on my king size bed that was nearly too small for me, his eyes still open and watching me.
“What?” I asked as I tossed my towel in the basket and noticed that he had too.
His gaze slid down my body like a gentle caress, but I knew I was seeing things that weren’t there.
“Do you ever…” He licked his lips. “I’ve been thinking. Do you ever wonder…”
When he paused again, my brow furrowed. I hit the lights and in the dark, circled to my side of the bed before peeling back the already messy comforter. Sliding between the sheets, I got comfortable on my side, facing Torin’s back. “Do I ever wonder what?”
I yawned and settled in, waiting for him to confide in me whatever was on his mind. Only a moment passed before the mattress springs creaked under Torin’s weight as he rolled over. He edged toward me, his body heat growing warmer as he invaded my space, and the spicy scent of my body wash he’d used grew stronger. His erratic breathing was deafening in the silent room, and warning bells sounded in my mind.
When his leg brushed mine, I sucked in a harsh breath. “What are you doing?”
He rested his hand on my bare chest. My breathing picked up and my dick instantly responded, hardening again.
“You can tell me to stop.” His voice shook as he hesitantly touched my heated skin with fingertips roughened from football.
“Torin?” My voice was equally shaky, and my mind swarmed with questions.
“Can I kiss you?” The words were so quiet, but they rang out crystal clear.
Every cell in my body froze and words eluded me. That had been the last thing I ever expected to hear from his lips.
Taking my silence as a lack of objection, Torin scooted closer, pushing more of his body against mine. His touch trailed up over my pecs and around to the back of my head where he ran his fingers through my hair. Then lips that were soft and tasted of my mint toothpaste gently pressed against mine.
The sensation sent a storm of nerves shooting down my limbs, and my cock throbbed. A small part of my brain was still functioning enough to question whether kissing my straight best friend was a bad idea. I mumbled against his mouth, “Should we be doing this?”
“I don’t know.” The whisper coasted over my lips.
My next words were interrupted as he slipped his tongue into my mouth. My lips parted further, giving him access to deepen the kiss. When he moaned, my reservations dissolved until all I could do was feel and taste Torin. I snapped. Before I could process my next move, I flipped him onto his back and crawled on top of him. I slanted my mouth over his, diving in for more, massaging his tongue with mine, nipping at his lips and swallowing each of his low moans.
“Rush.” He panted and squirmed beneath me. “I want…”
Silencing him with another kiss, I struggled to keep things from going too far. But when his hips lifted, seeking friction, a growl tore from my throat. Unrestrained, I thrust against him with the thin layers of fabric the only things that separated our hard cocks. His hands went to my ass, pulling me against him, and I grunted with approval. But when his fingers slipped beneath the elastic band of my briefs, a wash of shock snapped me out of the lust-fueled fog clouding my thoughts. I stopped cold. What were we doing?
I rolled off of him, lying next to him and staring up into the dark, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. What had just happened?
“What’s wrong?” Torin reached out and brushed his finger over my bottom lip.
Grabbing his hand, I pulled it down to my chest but still held it. “I can’t be an experiment for you, T.” It would destroy me when he moved on.
“You wouldn’t be an experiment. What the hell?” He sounded angry.
I didn’t understand. “You’re straight.”
He chuckled softly as his mood lightened. “Not exactly. I’ve thought about it before, you know? A lot. But only with you.”
My heart raced as I struggled to grasp his meaning. A dozen emotions created a dizzying mix of confusion I was having trouble separating. How had he kept a secret like that from me? Then I felt the weight of being a hypocrite settle over my shoulders. I opened my mouth several times before I managed to form words. I eyed him with disbelief. “Never anyone else?”
“Not like this,” he admitted and tried to rub his hand over my chest, but I gripped his hand tighter to keep him still.
So many questions buzzed heavily in my heart and mind. My world had just been upended and flashes of hope followed by hesitation seemed to be taking turns driving me mad.
“I’ve thought about it a lot too,” I finally responded. The admission felt like a heavy burden being lifted from my shoulders.
“So, why are we stopping?” He didn’t sound surprised, so I guessed I hadn’t hidden my attraction as well as I’d hoped.
“If you want this… If you want me”—I took a deep breath and exhaled—“you better be damn sure. I’m not interested in a one-time thing, T.”
“Who says I am? You don’t get to decide that for me, Rush.” The words were soft but firm.
“T, I’m serious. This just came out of the blue. I wasn’t expecting it, and I’m a little confused. I’m having a hard time catching up with you right now.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t handle this well at all, did I?”
“Let’s just sleep on it. I need to think and maybe you do too.”
Torin leaned up and quickly pecked my lips before settling in at my side. He tossed a leg over mine and huffed. “Have it your way.”
I wasn’t sure how much sleep I’d get after what we’d just done, but it was true that I needed to figure it out. Figure us out.
Broken Play #2
One
Shaw
“Damn, you look hot, Shepherd.” I settled into the leather bucket seat and closed the car door. The familiar scent of Bishop’s cologne mixed with the expensive black upholstery wrapped around me as I looked him over. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning over the console toward him. I took his bottom lip between my teeth and tugged. When he growled deep in his throat, I pulled back with a smirk. “You taste good too. I missed you.”
“You’ve been gone almost two weeks, Wakefield, and now I’m rock hard. You plan on finishing what you’re starting?”
“Nope.” I let the word pop on my lips. “We have business to attend to. Daddy’s away checking on another club so the son must…whatever. You have to go do your dad’s job.”
“Then stop being a cock tease.” He revved the engine, the sound a refined purr that screamed wealth. He glanced my way. “Belt.”
“Yes, sir.” I gave him a mock salute then buckled up.
He gently pulled the car out of the dorm parking lot. For all the badass vibes he exuded, he drove like my Grandma Ginger. I’d told him that once, but he’d shrugged and said my grandma was a smart lady.
“We just need to run in and check things out. My dad said there have been some complaints from customers. The club is understaffed and the manager isn’t on top of things. New club, new management, new problems.” He sped up as he turned onto the service road. “Shouldn’t take over twenty minutes, tops. I just need to talk to him and find out if he needs to be replaced.”
“Yeah. While you do that, I’m going to grab a drink.” I reached over and turned the radio up, letting the heavy bass thump through the speakers.
He shifted gears smoothly and pulled onto the highway, accelerating and merging into the stream of other cars. I glanced over at him. One large tan hand on the steering wheel, the long fingers of the other wrapped around the shifter. Hands that handled my body so well. I’d missed them over the two weeks of summer break I’d spent with my parents.
Bishop’s midnight dark eyes focused on the road while his razor sharp jawline clenched, drawing my gaze to the contours of his face and to his slight cleft chin. His unruly black hair fell across his forehead, covering a faint scar he’d gotten as a kid. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans and smelled amazing. Everything about him was sensual, dark and fucking delicious. And lucky me, I got to enjoy all of it as often as I wanted.
I’d worn a pair of stonewash jeans that had grown soft from many washes and a plain navy shirt and tennis shoes. I hadn’t even bothered to fix my hair, opting to toss a ball cap on over my messy, blond hair.
He sat forward and lowered the volume. “Stop staring at me.”
“You have something on your face,” I lied.
His lip kicked up on the side, slow and reluctant before falling back into line quickly. A twitch. A crack in his armor. I grinned.
“Maybe you should get it.”
I leaned toward him again and skimmed my lips over his jaw, pausing for a quick nip, and then traced my tongue along his skin as I made my way to his ear.
“I think I got it,” I whispered then settled back in my seat.
He groaned and I watched, satisfied as he released the shifter and moved his hand to his cock, giving it a firm squeeze.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned.
I hummed. “You going to burn me?”
His gaze flicked to me, full of promises. “Later. Now, behave. We’re almost there.”
The highway became busier as the roadways intersected and cars fought to get in the correct lane. It was a drastic difference from visiting my hometown where there was only one stoplight, one convenience store, and instead of having easy access to clubs and bars, we had backroading, tailgate parties and bonfires. Friday nights only meant one thing back home. Football.
Bishop navigated the traffic to the off ramp that led toward downtown. Only a few miles later the buildings began to grow in size and green grass gave way to concrete and metal. Bishop slowed to a crawl as we crossed into the blocks full of clubs, tattoo shops, bars and eclectic shops. The strip was full of bright lights and lines of people that streamed from doorways and down sidewalks. Music thumped. Laughter and chatter came from people out to socialize and let off steam. I watched from my window and took it all in.
Once we passed his dad’s newest club, he drove around the building and parked next to the rear exit. The sounds coming from inside were muffled as we climbed out, but when Bishop unlocked the heavy door and swung it open, the full cacophony of sounds was overwhelming.
The door shut with a heavy thud behind us and Bishop re-locked it. We stuck to the edge of the main room to avoid the packed dance floor as I followed him to the bar.
While he circled around the bar and engaged the manager, I pulled up a stool to wait.
Bishop was in his element.
After graduation, he’d become half-owner of the company his dad and mother had built together. Bishop had been groomed for the role straight from the cradle. This new club would be the first one under his watch before he grew the new chain, while his dad would continue to manage the established clubs in many major cities across the US. I knew his mother had passed away when he was twelve but he was tight-lipped on the subject.
While he’d been preparing to take the entertainment business by storm, I’d been laser-focused on football in order to have a shot at a scholarship. Graduating with a degree in journalism and becoming a sports reporter was the dream. I had one foot in the door by making friends with the right people, but it seemed miles away from what the future held in store for Bishop.
I observed the two as I waited for the bartender to notice me. Bishop stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his head cocked to the side. The manager appeared to be in his late thirties, his hair a light shade that was hard to identify under the club’s blue-tinted lights. He was rapidly gesturing with his hands, a scowl on his face which quickly dropped. Bishop’s lips moved, but the chaotic environment made it impossible to hear what he’d said. I’d bet money he was setting him straight. I chuckled to myself. He wasn’t a man who took attitude from anyone.
“What’ll you have?” I turned toward the girl behind the bar. Dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, an eyebrow ring and a tired smile greeted me. She must have been new because I didn’t recognize her.
I ordered a whiskey and coke, a rare indulgence because I didn’t drink often.
She nodded. “Single or double, short or tall?”
“Single short,” I replied and glanced back to where I’d last seen Bishop talking to the manager, but no one was there. A heavy glass was placed on a napkin in front of me and stole my attention. “Thank you.”
“Starting a tab?” she asked as she tapped the top of the industrial style bar with her nails.
I’d never paid for drinks there before and internally groaned at having to spend part of the meager amount of cash I’d returned to school with.
“Nah.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket and handed her a ten. A ten I shouldn’t be spending on alcohol of all things. Shit.
“Want your change?”
Yes. “No.” I nodded toward the tip jar. She smiled and slipped the money into a tall fluted jar. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
I swiveled around on my seat, one hand holding my glass, and settled my opposite elbow on the bar top behind me. The club was bursting at the seams with people of all shapes and sizes shaking their asses and having a good time. Alcohol burned down my throat and warmth bloomed in my stomach as I nursed my drink. The music was fast paced and my body naturally swayed to the deep bass, tempting me to join in. I peeked at the door marked Staff Only where I assumed Bishop had disappeared. Torn between standing there, forced to wait on him, or spend the time dancing, I chewed on my bottom lip. I turned around and attempted to get the bartender’s attention again.
She was busy at the other end of the bar and there was no way she could hear me over the deafening noise. I leaned forward, hoping to catch her eye. She glanced over with a cocked brow and pointed toward my drink. I shook my head and waited as she slid a martini glass in front of a girl about my age.
She tightened her ponytail as she made her way to where I stood and placed her hands on the bar, leaning forward. “You don’t want another?”
“No, but do you know if Bishop went through there?” I flicked my finger toward the employee door behind the bar.
Her brows furrowed. “Bishop?”
After I introduced myself and explained who he was, her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I just started last week and had no idea.”
She popped open the register and pulled a ten out and shoved into my hand. I pushed it back at her and reluctantly she returned the money and re-closed the till.
“Jay stepped back and I guess Bishop was with him. I was too busy to pay attention. I wish he’d hurry or at least hire another bartender.” She waved her hand toward the customers who were getting impatient and then tucked a loose dark strand of hair behind her ear. “I could use the help here.”
A quick scan of the filled stools and people fighting their way to the front made me feel guilty for pulling her away. “Thanks. I’ll get out of your hair.”
She gave me a weary smile and sauntered off. I waited another minute before making a decision and whipped out my phone to shoot Bishop a text. “Come find me when you’re done.”
I slipped it back into my pocket, downed the rest of my drink and made my way into the crush of gyrating bodies.
My body moved to the beat and within seconds a soft body pressed against my front. I smiled down at a cute girl with short brown curls. The little dating I did in high school was an experimental mix of both girls and guys and I’d learned that I enjoyed both. But I respected the deal Bishop and I had, so I backed away with a polite grin until we were no longer touching. Not that I minded the exclusive fuck buddy thing he and I had going on. Far from it. He gave me something I hadn’t even known I wanted. And during our time together, I hadn’t even entertained the idea of anyone else.
As if summoned, or more likely he caught sight of me dancing with someone, a large hand wrapped around my hip. Long fingers splayed over my stomach from behind and pulled me back against a hard chest I knew well. Then we were moving together. The girl’s eyes widened as she stared over my shoulder and I imagined that dark gaze piercing hers, claiming me. Bishop was possessive, and while that might not be for everyone, I thrived on it. He was mine and I was his for as long as our arrangement lasted. But we’d never been this open about it before.
His grip tightened and he leaned forward, placing an open-mouthed kiss on my neck. A shiver raced down my spine and I pushed back. He was hard, grinding against me and I forgot about the girl.
He was taking a chance by putting his hands on me in public since he wasn’t ready to out himself. Hell, I was taking a chance. Because while I was out back home, I’d zipped my lips quick when I observed the treatment that some of our out teammates received from rival teams.
One of Bishop’s hands had moved beneath my shirt, and his warm palm teased my bare skin. I always thought dancing could be sexual but the way he moved against me, I wanted nothing more than for him to rip my pants down and shove his cock in me, riding me hard and deep. Onlookers be damned.
I craned my head around to gauge his expression and found myself staring into a pair of obsidian orbs, locked intently on me. The blue glow enhanced Bishop’s sharp features as he gave me a knowing grin and then spun me around. Pressed together from chest to hip, he rolled his in sync with the bass. I gasped as the friction sent pleasure shooting through my veins.
Bishop leaned forward again, holding my gaze for as long as possible before nuzzling my neck. The surprise scrape of his teeth made me moan, the sound swallowed by the loud music. He followed the slight sting with a soft kiss and then pulled away. With his gaze glued to my mouth, he inched forward. The moment his lips touched mine, I froze.
Having his hands on me was enough to trigger whispers, but a kiss noticed by anyone that recognized us would be all over campus within hours. I realized how ridiculous that sounded because if anyone planned to out us we’d already given them more than enough ammo. I couldn’t believe we were doing this in public—in his father’s club.
A bite on my lower lip broke through my shock and I surrendered to him and parted my lips. He took the invitation and tangled his tongue with mine, all the while rocking our bodies together.
When he backed away, I chased his lips that quirked in amusement. Bishop took my hand and pulled me behind him. We wound through the crowd to the other side of the club where we took the stairs up to the office. On the landing we reached a locked door and he quickly keyed in the code on the electronic pad. Still holding my hand, he pushed it open and led us into a short hallway and closed the door. The shift in lighting was drastic. A dim glow replaced the blue tint and the music faded to a dull roar. I expected to be lured into the office, but he stopped short and backed me against the wall.
Bishop’s black hair was a mess of waves and curls and his skin was golden brown under the low light. We were nearly the same height, but where I was lean and toned to stay quick on my feet as I sprinted downfield, he was built for defense—solid, smoking hot muscle.
He let me look my fill as his gaze roamed over me. He moved fast, darting forward and pinning me to the wall with his entire body. Pressed close, he brought his hand to my neck, cradling and rubbing the skin with his thumb as he attacked my lips.
I moaned into his mouth when his other hand crept between our bodies and cupped my bulge. His mouth moved from mine down to my neck where he lightly sucked and licked up to my ear. I needed more and shifted my hips, pressing hard into his hand.
Slipping my hands around his back, I pulled his shirt up and slid my fingers beneath it, scraping my short nails over his skin with just enough force to drive him crazy. The kiss grew more aggressive. When I received that reaction it was difficult not to urge him on, but how far was he willing to take things?
Bishop shifted his hand from my neck and brought it between us to pinch my nipple. I hissed and dipped my fingers into the waistband of his jeans to tease his warm skin beneath the denim. He groaned and rolled his hips.
He reared back and reached for my zipper and roughly lowered it. My jeans and briefs were yanked down to pool around my ankles and my cock sprang free. He licked his lips and groaned. “This is happening now.”
His voice was raspy and deep and my body thrummed with need. He gripped my shaft and worked me with skilled tight strokes.
“Here?” My hands went to the wall behind me as he pumped me.
“Don’t move,” he demanded and dropped to his knees.
The slight worry evaporated when his lips hovered an inch from my tip. I didn’t flinch despite the urge to flex my hips. He watched and waited to see if I’d stay put. Satisfied, he rewarded my effort with a wet swipe of his tongue against my tip. It’d been too long without him and I was too sensitive. My eyes rolled back and I held my breath.
“Definitely here.” A dark chuckle made its way to my ears as he took the first inch into his mouth and then another. Slow and steady, he swallowed me to the back of his throat, tightened his lips and sucked like a motherfucker as he pulled off then dove forward again.
“Holy shit!” My shout bounced off the walls of the empty hall and spurred him on. He bobbed his head over my length and I couldn’t hold back from moving any longer. My hands left the wall to tangle in his hair. “Oh. My. God. Make me come. Please, Bishop, make me fucking come.”
He backed away and stood so fast I’d barely registered what was happening before he spun me around, knocked my ball cap off and jerked my hips back. I’d just braced myself against the wall when he brought his palm down against my ass. The sharp sting turned to blooming heat and sent tingles racing over my skin.
“I have so fucking missed this,” he gritted out between his teeth and pulled back.
The sudden loss of his touch was unexpected so I glanced over my shoulder. He held a packet of lube and was coating his fingers before he parted my cheeks. A slick finger traced a line down my crease and stopped to tease my hole.
“Always prepared, aren’t you?” My smart mouth earned another hard slap to my other cheek. That was one reason Bishop and I worked so well in bed—and against walls. He was in tune with my body and knew when and how to push my boundaries. I loved that he was big enough to manhandle my large build and enjoyed punishing me when he decided I needed it. And fuck, after two weeks I definitely needed it.
“Are you complaining?” His finger sank into me and set all my nerves on fire as pleasure shot through my body.
Moans dripped from my lips and I rested my forehead against the wall as he began stretching me. “Fuck no.”
“This will be fast,” he warned and added a second digit. “It’s been too damn long.”
We were so on the same page. “Stop fucking around. I’m ready.”
“Almost.” He added a third finger. When he seemed satisfied, he pulled out, leaving me empty and aching.
He smacked my bare ass again before the sound of ripping foil sent shivers down my back in anticipation. I spread my legs wider and pushed back.
“So impatient,” he whispered and grabbed my hips. “Hold on.”
I braced my arms on the wall and he rammed his cock into me with so much force that my knees would have buckled had he not had such a hard grip on me. A grip I was sure would leave marks.
“Yes,” I hissed as he drove into me relentlessly. Hard and rough, he gave me exactly what I liked.
I glanced over my shoulder again and caught a glimpse of his face. He stared down to where our bodies connected. His expression, contorted in pleasure, took me back to the first time we’d fucked, watching the sparks of heat in his eyes reflected in the bathroom mirror as he took me from behind. It was a sight I’d never forget. A sight I craved and received every time we were together.
“You and this ass…” He trailed off with a groan as I clamped down around him. With one large hand anchored on my hip, the other whipped around and palmed my cock. Hard and aching with come seeping from the tip, it wasn’t going to take much to send me over. I bit my lip to keep from begging him again to finish me off. He liked that too much.
He wrapped his large hand around my shaft and jacked me with quick strokes, timing them just right with his thrusts. I lost the war on keeping my mouth shut and caved. “Please.”
He granted my wish and slammed into me hard enough a sign on the wall rattled and nearly fell.
“You close?” he ground out between his teeth.
I cried out. “Fuck no, I’m already there.”
Bishop’s other arm banded around my chest and he jerked me upright with my back against his chest. My head dropped on his shoulder and I came hard, shooting ropes of come on my stomach and coating his hand.
He thrust into me three more times with jerky movements as his release hit. The groan he let loose was so deep I felt the vibration against my back.
We stayed as we were, panting and recovering.
“Well, if that isn’t a welcome home from my friend and favorite fuck buddy, I don’t know what is.” I chuckled and he exhaled hard.
“Keep talking and I’ll find another use for that mouth.” He pulled out and then led me to the office where we cleaned up in the attached bathroom.
“Are we ready to get out of here?” I asked as he shut off the lights.
He nodded. “Let’s go home.”
Recovered Fumble #3
One
Rendon
April/NFL Draft
According to the directions my brother had given me, the red brick duplex that belonged to Nash, one of Shaw’s teammates, sat at the end of a long road lined with cars. As I eased between the rows, I searched for his blue sedan and came up empty. I parallel parked my old white hatchback between two trucks that had left enough space for my tiny car, snatched my phone up from the cup holder and tapped out a message to Shaw.
“Hey, I think I’m at the right place but I don’t see your car.”
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I waited for the reply. The engine whined due to a loose belt so I shut it off and cracked my door open, prepared to climb out. When my brother had invited me for the weekend to roam the campus and possibly meet some people before I started my freshman year in the fall, I’d reluctantly agreed.
The trip from home where I lived with my parents wasn’t too far, but it was long enough that turning around was just as unappealing as the view from my windshield. As I glanced around at the cars and checked out the scene, I questioned my decision to stay.
Despite the fact that the sun still kissed the horizon, the party was well underway. I’d only been prepared for a small NFL draft watch party to see if Shaw’s buddy made the cut. Yet the atmosphere seemed much more like the college parties I planned to avoid and not a few football players sitting around a big screen like I’d imagined.
Several people loitered on the front porch and from where I sat, held what looked like beer bottles. Music thumped from inside, gaining volume each time the door of the right-hand unit opened to let people come and go. I wondered what the neighbor thought about all the noise. The porch was partitioned by a large column, but no one seemed to respect the boundary and the whole space appeared to be fair game.
Parties weren’t my thing. I’d never been to a real high school party either. That would have required being invited to one. And forget prom. I’d skipped that altogether.
My phone buzzed in my hand and I shoved my black wire-framed glasses up the bridge of my nose as I glanced down. “Oh, shit. Sorry, I rode with Bishop and forgot to tell you. On my way outside now.”
I blew a raspberry and wondered if it was too late to change my mind. The front door swung open again and Shaw stepped out and waved.
As I climbed out of the car, a light breeze rolled over my skin and rustled the mature trees that towered above the homes. My brother, a Saints wide receiver, wore his usual comfortable t-shirt, cargo shorts, and tennis shoes. He dodged the people on the steps and met me halfway up the sidewalk.
Rethinking my ironed navy-blue short-sleeved button-up shirt and khaki shorts, I hoped I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Six inches taller and much broader than my five-eight, slim frame, Shaw dwarfed me as he slung a heavy arm over my shoulder. Despite the difference in our height and weight, Shaw and I resembled each other with the bright green eyes and blond hair we’d inherited from our mother.
Shaw ruffled my hair and I batted his hand away and ran my fingers through the strands to fix them back into place. He chuckled. “How was your drive?”
“It was fine.” My gaze was drawn to the house again when a few people stumbled onto the lawn and laughed as a girl fell on her hands and knees, giggling as she was helped up.
My brother released me and stepped back. “I swear we didn’t plan on this many people showing up but word got out. Happens sometimes at these things.” He shrugged. “It’s mostly guys from the team, and some of their girlfriends. A few random people from school.”
“A few?” My eyes widened.
“Okay, a lot. But this was about meeting people before you start in the fall and a lot of these people won’t be around during the summer. Maybe it worked out for the best,” he suggested with a hopeful smile.
I nodded but inwardly grimaced as the noise seemed to escalate. “His neighbor doesn’t complain?”
“Nah. Most of the housing around here is for students and they don’t care. Jesse is a cool guy. He was actually inside earlier, may still be.” He pursed his lips then dismissed the topic. “Come on and I’ll introduce you to some of the guys.”
When I hesitated, he frowned.
“I don’t think I’m going to fit in here,” I admitted.
Shaw crossed his arms. “You might be surprised. They aren’t bad guys, I promise.”
Though I’d likely recognize most of his teammates from attending his games, I didn’t know them personally so I’d have to take his word for it. And I couldn’t tell him that after he’d left our hometown, my experience hadn’t been the same as his. Being responsible for taking the football team to state year after year had given Shaw a get out of jail free card for being bisexual. No one had given him crap when he’d come out. Well, no one did it to his face anyway.
High school hadn’t been fun for me. When I came out, I hadn’t received the same pass. Maybe because I was gay and not bisexual, but I doubted it. They wouldn’t have cared. Liking dick in any way was social suicide for a guy. Rumors and gossip followed my every step. My few friends vanished at the first whispers of any connection to the geeky queer boy. And a lot of it had been started by the hometown heroes wearing football pads and helmets on Friday nights. The moment I realized I could graduate a semester early, my full focus turned to that goal so I could escape the walls that echoed with taunts and made my life miserable.
I zoned back in on what Shaw was saying. “Most of them are watching the draft still so they are going to be preoccupied.”
My brother’s teammate, Rush, was the star center for the Saints and everyone expected him to be drafted. But if everyone was still watching, I wondered if it hadn’t happened yet. At least one day of the draft had already come and gone. Selfishly, I’d hoped he’d go first round so I could avoid the party altogether and spend the weekend with Shaw and maybe a few of his closest friends.
I squared my shoulders and promised myself I’d keep an open mind despite my reservations. “Okay, let’s go.”
He turned and I followed him up to the porch where he paused. “I’m glad you agreed to visit. It’ll be fine, you’ll see. I wish I had known a few people going into my freshman year.”
Shaw led the way inside the unit. There wasn’t much of an entryway so we stepped straight into the living room where a black leather couch and two matching chairs were packed with huge guys rubbing elbows.
Girls sat in the laps of a few guys and the arms of the furniture were used as seats. Many more sat around on the carpeted floor. Some held beer bottles, others water bottles or energy drinks, and the scent of pizza and alcohol hung in the air. Plates were scattered across the wood coffee table laden with chips and uneaten crusts. The TV was at top volume so they could hear the draft over the music. I winced at the assault on my eardrums.
The open concept floorplan afforded a view of the small dining room to my left where four guys played cards and had started quite the collection of beer cans. The kitchen opened up off the dining room and was separated from the living room by a tall bar. Three raw-wood stools, each holding one of my brother’s hefty teammates, matched the countertop. To my right, a short hall led to two doors, one open, to which I assumed was the bathroom, and one closed that must have been Nash’s bedroom. And the back door was located directly across from where I stood.
Shaw was right. In the living room, other than a few girls messing around on their phones, almost everyone’s eyes were glued to the huge TV mounted on the wall. And the others were absorbed in drinking games, poker and conversations. Not many spared us a glance.
“We have food if you’re hungry.” Shaw dragged me into the kitchen and motioned toward a huge stack of pizza boxes covering one half of the counter space. “Drinks are in the refrigerator.”
With my brain screaming to make a break for it and run back to my car, the last thing on my mind was food. Still I managed a grin for my brother. “Thanks. I’m okay right now.”
“Suit yourself, but it’s there if you want it.”
I followed him back out into the main room, but stood a step behind him.
“Hey, guys,” my brother yelled, trying to gather everyone’s attention. I wanted to find a hole to hide in rather than have so many eyes on me. “This is my brother, Rendon.”
Three or four guys glanced up. I received distracted chin nods and careless waves. Brow raised, I looked up at Shaw as if to make my point. Not my crowd.
He gave me a sheepish grin. “They aren’t always this bad. It’s the third round and everyone is getting worried for Rush because he hasn’t been drafted. It’ll happen though. He’s too valuable.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” I scanned the room, searching for a quiet corner to settle in. No luck. While I wasn’t claustrophobic, there were a lot of people packed into a small space and the tight confines put me on edge. I eyed the back door across the room and nudged Shaw’s shoulder. “Does this place have a back porch?”
“Yeah, why?” Shaw cocked a brow.
“Just going to grab some air?” The statement had come out as a question and earned the suspicious look Shaw gave me.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re uncomfortable and I feel like an ass now. I swear I thought it would be okay.”
“No, it’s fine. Just need to make a call,” I lied. The environment was overwhelming and I needed to reset my expectations.
He narrowed his eyes and studied my expression, clearly conflicted on what to do. “I’ll come with you.”
“Oh, no. You go watch the draft. You’d hate if you missed it. I’ll be back inside in a minute,” I assured him and his expression relaxed.
“You sure it’s okay?”
I scrunched my nose, causing my glasses to slip. I pushed them back into place. “Of course.”
“Okay, but come find me when you’re done with your call.”
“Will do,” I promised.
He crossed the room and plopped down on the carpet in front of the chair Bishop had claimed. I recognized Bishop from seeing him on the field. He was a huge guy that played defense. With striking black hair and eyes—and a matching dark disposition—he was intimidating and the opposite of Shaw in every way. I’d never seen the guy crack a smile, even when he made a highlight-reel play during a game.
Bishop’s eyes stayed fixed on Shaw for a moment and my brother glanced up at him, wearing a dirty grin. Gross. I wondered if everyone was aware they were hooking up or if they were all completely blind.
Rather than crossing everyone’s view of the TV, I slipped through the kitchen and slid by a group of girls laughing, one gesturing wildly with her hands mid-story, and snuck outside.
Like the front, the large connected back deck was split into two halves and divided by a column.
The last rays of the sun had disappeared and the temperature had dropped as night replaced day. The only light breaking up the darkness was provided by the indoor lights slanting through the windows.
Facing the acres of open field behind the fenced backyard, I leaned against the wooden railing that wrapped around the porch. Two sets of stairs, one for each unit, led down to the shared lawn where a few people milled around.
Tendrils of smoke curled up in front of my face at the same time the scent of a cigarette hit my nose. I glanced over and found there was a guy sitting on the top stair on the neighbor’s side of the porch. He sat in shadow but his face was awash with the glow from the lights inside. Eyes dark and hooded stared back at me. His brown hair was shaved close, facial hair groomed and with only a white tank covering his sculpted chest, the dragon tattoo that wrapped around the full length of his arm was visible. His motorcycle boot-clad feet were propped one on top of the other as he sat back with stretched out legs. He was the epitome of a bad boy.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
His lip quirked. “Hi.”
He took a drag of his cigarette as his gaze raked me head to toe. The smoke left his lungs in a cloud. “Haven’t seen you here before. You with Nash?”
The question was odd considering the number of people inside, but I shook my head. “Oh, no. I’m just visiting. My brother is on the team.”
He continued to smoke but shifted his gaze up toward the dark sky.
After an awkward silence, I stepped away from the railing to go. “It was nice to meet you.”
He glanced back at me and his lip quirked again. “I’m Jesse. And you are?”
Shaw had mentioned Nash’s neighbor, so I recognized the name. “Rendon.”
Jesse tossed his cigarette in a ceramic pot and stood. “Enjoy the party.”
He crossed the deck to his unit and as the door closed behind him, I frowned at the strange conversation but pushed it aside. Minutes ticked by as I composed myself and prepared to rejoin the group.
I was in the middle of giving myself a much-needed pep talk when sudden shouts and the sound of utter chaos broke through my musings. Curious, I opened the door a sliver.
“I knew it!”
“That lucky shit. How’d he land Texas?”
“Damn, dude. I told you not to worry.”
The voices rose as they continued to talk over each other, making it impossible to tell who was saying what, though it was clear Rush had made the draft. I found a spot against the wall and looked on while everyone huddled in front of the TV. Enough of the screen was visible that I saw Rush take the stage and pose for a photograph with his new jersey and cap.
After the first burst of excitement died, Nash stood in the center of the room, raised his hand and hushed the crowd. The music cut off and silence enveloped the room. “Pipe down. I’m calling them.”
My stomach flipped as he flashed a wide smile at the people crowding around him. It was the first time I’d seen Nash up close and in street clothes. Seeing him on TV or from the distance of the stands on game day hadn’t done him justice at all. He was tall—well over six feet—the ideal height for a top wide receiver. With short black hair, light brown skin pulled tight over sleek muscle and a voice like rich velvet, Nash was the kind of guy you couldn’t help but notice. And I did. With my gaze trained on him, I bit my lip.
He shook his head and lowered the phone. “Voicemail.”
“Give them a minute. They are probably busy and it’s got to be loud,” Shaw said.
Nash agreed but soon grew impatient. “I’m going to call Torin.”
Torin was the Saints quarterback who’d also be graduating this year. And Rush’s boyfriend.
This time Torin must have answered.
“Hey, T, ask your boy why he’s not answering his phone. Is he too good to talk to his old teammates now that he’s some hot-shot NFL player?” His playful tone negated his accusing words and then he laughed at whatever was said. “Let me talk to him.”
Seconds passed and then Nash whooped. “Holy shit, Rush, you did it! You’re in the NFL, not that we doubted you.”
He listened for a moment and his grin grew. “Oh, yeah. We have quite the party going on as we watched the draft. Say hi.” Nash switched it to speakerphone and held the phone up high.
Everyone yelled over each other but I made out my brother’s voice. “Fuck yeah, man!”
“It sounds like more than Shaw and Bishop are there,” Rush replied over the speaker with a laugh.
“Oh, the house is packed…” Nash glanced around and stopped cold when he spotted me.
His eyes were incredible—intense shades of green and yellow with dark brows that only highlighted the unique combination. His lids grew heavy and he sank his top teeth into his lower lip, mirroring my own reaction. There was no way that piercing gaze was locked on me. I glanced to my left and right and then swallowed hard when I realized I stood alone.
Nash took a step in my direction, shoving the phone at Shaw who barely managed to hang on to it. “Damn, who’s that?”
Every muscle in my body locked up tight and my feet refused to move despite the adrenaline rush causing my breathing to speed up and my heart to pound.
Shaw growled and shoved Nash’s shoulder. “Don’t even think about it, Nash.”
Nash’s gaze scanned me from head to toe. Heat flooded my cheeks and my skin broke out in chills. He tilted his head, and without taking his eyes off me, he addressed my brother. “What?”
“Rendon is off-limits.” Shaw narrowed his eyes, not that Nash would know. “Stay away from my little brother.”
I hated when he called me that. It always made me sound like a kid.
“Hey, I had no idea.” His words held no weight as he started walking again in my direction and a predatory grin crossed his face.
“Nash, where are you going? You better not be… We have to go”—Shaw spoke into the phone—“Congrats, Rush. We’ll celebrate properly when you get home. I need to go kick Nash’s ass real quick.” He tossed the phone to Bishop and charged after Nash.
Now everyone was watching as two giant wide receivers stepped around people to get to me and I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Shaw was blocked out by Nash’s massive frame as he stopped in front of me. The scent of citrus and spice cologne invaded my space and I inhaled deep. He smelled amazing.
My gaze traveled from his trim waist to the wide muscular chest the sleeveless black shirt couldn’t conceal, up his throat to his chin and holy… His lips. Lush and plump. I’d never reacted so hard to a pair of lips, but Nash had to have the most kissable mouth I’d ever seen. A slow grin spread across his face as he cleared his throat. My gaze jerked up to meet eyes that danced with humor. “Rendon, right?”
“My brother just told you that,” I murmured.
He smirked and leaned in. With one hand against the wall over my shoulder, he caged me in. “I’m Nash.”
“I know who you are.” My voice shook. Why did he have to be so hot? He had to be messing with me, because there was no way he was interested in me.
“Yeah?” He cocked his head, and the small silver hooped ring in his left ear caught the light.
“Well…” I fought the stutter that happened when nerves got the better of me. “I come to my brother’s games sometimes and recognize you.”
He hummed. “How come I haven’t seen you around?”
“I was going to school and don’t visit the campus often,” I offered when the obvious answer was because I was invisible up until about five minutes ago.
My brother stepped next to us and gritted between his teeth. “High school.”
Nash frowned and took a step back, letting his arm fall to his side.
“I graduated early and start here in the fall,” I blurted. I didn’t know why the words flew from my mouth, but it was the truth. “And I’m eighteen.”
Shaw cursed and Nash’s grin grew again.
“No,” my brother said, shaking his head with stiff movements. “Not happening.”
Nash raised his hands as if in surrender but then held one out to me. I took it in my trembling hand and he shook it. He smirked before glancing at my brother.
“I hear you loud and clear, Shaw.” His eyes latched onto mine again. Still holding my hand, he ran his thumb over my knuckle. I shivered and the hair stood up on my arms. “Well, it’s nice to officially meet you.”
“You too.” Lame. For as well as I did in school, I’d hoped if the day ever came where I was hit on, I’d have a better response. Smooth and suave or something, but that wasn’t me. Nope, I stood there like a deer in the headlights as his gaze dipped to my mouth.
My brother groaned. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Loud and clear, my ass.”
“Shaw.” Bishop’s gruff voice grabbed my brother’s attention, and he crooked his finger, beckoning him over. My brother’s expression was conflicted and he huffed. Before he walked away, he glared at Nash again and then me. “The answer is no.”
My brother and Bishop were so hooking up.
Nash chuckled and released my hand. When my brother was out of earshot, he winked and said, “We’ll see if it’s a no. Personally, I’m a fan of yes.”
As he turned and walked away, my gaze roamed over him, down to his butt filling out his shiny gray athletic shorts then to his exposed calves chiseled with muscle. His body was perfect, so unlike mine. Everything about him was hot as if put together straight from every fantasy I’d ever had. Why would someone like him want me?
I pressed my back against the wall while I regained my bearings. My heart thudded and my head swam. I’d never in my life been looked at like that and the feeling was heady. Once I’d calmed down, I scanned the room, content to keep to myself instead of being sucked into campus gossip or football-fueled conversations. Still I couldn’t help but seek out Nash from time to time. Girls and guys flocked around him, and he hadn’t so much as glanced in my direction again. I took it for what it was, a brief lapse in judgment, and he’d realized he had his pick of guys. Maybe girls too. I wasn’t sure if he wasn’t interested in them. My brow scrunched.
Some guy I’d never met handed me a beer and I stared at it with a frown.
“You look bored as shit,” he explained. “Have some fun.”
He’d grinned and it hadn’t seemed suspicious or anything. But even if I were up to drinking, which I wasn’t, I’d never drink something someone I didn’t know gave me at a party. I shook my head and walked into the kitchen, moving around the crowded room to pour the wasted amber liquid down the drain.
A husky chuckle sounded behind me. “Not a fan of beer?”
Turning slowly, I found Nash gazing down at me with his hypnotic eyes and his lips tilted in amusement.
I scrunched my nose. “Sometimes, but I didn’t know the guy who handed it to me and I’m driving.”
“Smart.” Nash turned around and squeezed past a group of girls with apologies, opened the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of water. He returned, leaning his hip against the counter beside me and winked as he offered it to me. “Still sealed and everything.”
“Oh, thank you.” I uncapped it and guzzled a long drink. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “It’s warm in here.”
“Small spaces with a lot of people tend to heat up quick. But the back deck isn’t so bad now that it’s dark.” He paused and considered me. “Want to take a breather with me?”
I dipped my head to conceal my smile before glancing back up. “That sounds nice.”
The grin he returned was boyish with a twist of cockiness that sent a jolt through my body. I’m so not prepared for this.
I followed his lead through the clusters of people and to the back door. Once we stepped outside, I half-expected my brother to come storming through the door right after us. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.
“So”—Nash leaned his back against the wood column as I stood awkwardly to his side—“are you looking forward to the fall?”
The normal question caught me off guard. I was expecting more suggestive flirting, but not that. “You mean starting college?”
“Yeah.” He took a sip of his beer wrapped in a black and gold Saints koozie. “What’s your major?”
“I don’t know, actually. I’m thinking history, but I plan to spend the first year trying to figure that out before I declare. Time to figure myself out away from home if that makes sense.”
“It does.” He nodded as if he understood. “You don’t have to have it all decided right away.”
It was my turn to ask a question. “Is it true you’re headed to the NFL next year?”
He blew out a heavy breath. “If I’m lucky, yeah. It’s been a dream since I was a kid.”
“My brother said you were a sure thing.” I peeled at the plastic label around my water bottle.
“Well, I don’t like the idea of leaving my family if I get picked by a team on the other side of the country, so it’s something I worry about. My dad’s health isn’t the greatest.” He chewed on his lip and sighed. “I’d like to get an offer with Texas like Rush, but that would be a stretch so I try not to hope too much, ya know? I’d be happy with making it at all. If it happens, I just wish I could pack up my family and bring them with me.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t expected him to share something personal with me. “I don’t know what to say. I wish you could too.”
He nodded then frowned.
“Did I say something wrong?” Leave it to me to ruin the situation.
“No.” He studied my face. “Why do I want to tell you everything? It’s weird, right?”
He didn’t wait for an answer and I was glad because I didn’t have one.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to drop the heavy stuff on you.” Nash set his beer on the railing. Digging his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a sucker, tore off the wrapper and stuck the trash back in his pocket.
“It’s fine.” I paused. “I’m glad you told me.”
Nash glanced at me with a thoughtful expression and hummed. “Yeah, me too.”
We stared at each other for a beat before I jerked my gaze away. His eyes were too much. I didn’t want to end up embarrassing myself by throwing myself at him. Not like I had the nerve to do that, but it was possible I’d do something equally embarrassing. Like drool.
Nash popped the sucker in his mouth and spoke around it, his voice muffled. “It’s an addiction.”
The change in subject had me scrambling to keep up. “You’re addicted to suckers?”
“Cherry suckers,” he clarified.
I laughed. “Could be worse.”
He pulled it from his mouth and licked his lips. “Truth.”
The door swung open and Shaw stepped through. Late, but I’d called that one.
His gaze bounced to Nash before focusing on me. “Thought I might find you out here.” His gaze swung back to Nash. “And I’m not at all surprised to find you, too.”
Nash straightened. “We were just talking.”
“I’m sure.” He eyed Nash with mistrust.
When Shaw turned his back on Nash and leveled me with a look, I couldn’t help but peek over his shoulder at Nash.
He rolled his eyes dramatically and then winked at me. Nash stuffed the sucker back in his mouth then ducked into the house, leaving me alone with my brother.
Shaw shoved his hands in his pockets. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “So, talk.”
“Look, I know I said this would be a good idea to get to know people and stuff but…not Nash. Not in that way.” He cringed.
I frowned. Nash was the only person who’d taken an interest in me and he was easy to talk to despite the nervous flutter in my stomach just being near him. “Why not?”
“Well, because it’s apparent he’s into you,” he said, like that explained everything. It explained nothing.
It was exciting that someone noticed me. Especially someone like Nash, and somehow, I knew my brother was about to ruin it. “Okay, why’s that a bad thing?”
Shaw hurried on. “It’s a bad idea, Rendon. Nash is a good guy but…he doesn’t do commitment. He’s not a one-man or one-woman guy. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
My shoulders slumped. “How do you know?”
“He doesn’t make it a secret, Ren.” His expression was sympathetic. “He’s notorious for hooking up. Guys and girls, not that it matters, but it’s always one-and-done.”
I frowned harder at the thought. Maybe it was good thing Shaw had interrupted what I had built in my mind as a special chemistry between Nash and me.
“So, he’s a cheater?” I had zero experience with this stuff.
“No.” He shook his head. “I didn’t say that. To my knowledge, he’s never been with anyone long enough for that to be possible.”
I mentally kicked myself. “Okay, I hear you.”
Satisfied, he nodded. “Are you about ready to head out?”
It was getting late and I was disappointed. Nash had been easy to talk to and I was attracted to him. Of course, he was a player. That made me feel stupid, and I wanted to head to my brother’s dorm to bury my head in the metaphorical sand. “I’m ready.”
“Okay, let me say some goodbyes. I’ll catch a ride with you since I rode with Bishop.”
“Whatever, that’s fine.” I waved him off.
“Give me a few minutes.”
I followed him inside, losing sight of him as he disappeared into the crowd. On my way to the front door, I went through the less crowded kitchen and walked right by Nash. His arm shot out as he wrapped it around my waist. “Hey, you okay?”
When I glanced up at him, his gaze trapped mine, completely ensnaring it. Like an idiot, I wanted to ignore my brother’s warning. “We are leaving. It was…” I swallowed hard. “It was nice to meet you.”
He released me. “Yeah, you too, Ren.”
We stared at each other for a minute, and he groaned. “Fuck it. I tried to do the right thing. You’re going to get me into so much trouble.” He shook his head. “Can I see your phone?”
A mixture of excitement, nerves, and worry exploded in the pit of my stomach as I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Why?”
He raised a brow as a slow smile spread across his face. “So I can give you my number.”
I hesitated. My brother’s words of warning echoed through my mind. But if it was a one-and-done thing, why did he want my number? I’d be going back home in a few short days. My hands shook as I handed my phone to him.
He typed quickly and handed it back. A chime went off and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Now, I have yours too.”
There was no way I was telling my brother about exchanging numbers with Nash, and I was pretty sure Nash wouldn’t either. The last thing I needed was another parental conversation with Shaw.
Nash reached out and ran a finger down my cheek and under my jaw. “I meant it. It was nice to meet you. I’m glad you came.”
Neither of us moved away as we traded stares. Electricity crackled between us and his gaze dipped to my mouth. I licked my lips and he groaned.
“I better go,” I whispered.
“Probably a good idea, young Wakefield.” His gaze flicked back up to meet mine.
Slowly I retreated until I bumped into someone. I spun around. “I’m so sorry.”
A big guy I thought I recognized as a Saints defensive player patted me on the head. “No worries.”
Focusing on my surroundings so I didn’t further embarrass myself, I went in search of my brother and found him outside standing close to Bishop by his car. The sleek black machine was parked on the opposite side of the road.
“Shaw, are we leaving?” I hollered.
“Yeah.” My brother jerked away from Bishop. “Coming now.” Bishop said something too low for me to hear and Shaw laughed. “Shut up.”
When Bishop hopped in his car, Shaw jogged over to where I stood on the sidewalk and we made our way down the street until we reached my hatchback.
After we climbed in, he faced me with a serious expression. “I meant what I said about Nash.”
I wondered if he’d seen us in the kitchen, but shook it off. He needed to mind his own business. He was trying to look out for me, but this was something I needed to figure out myself. If Nash was a mistake, it was mine to make.
Cranking up the car, I found an empty driveway and turned the car around. “What’s going on with you and Bishop?”
He threw his head back against the headrest and laughed as I pulled out of the neighborhood, heading toward campus. “Well played, little brother. Well played.”
My excitement dwindled with each day that passed after I’d come home from visiting my brother. There had been no call or text from Nash, and there was no way I was reaching out first. So, I waited. I checked my phone frequently, but after the second week, I gave up.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I was warned after all. I buried myself in extra shifts and overtime at the grocery store where I worked in the stock room to keep from thinking about him. Maybe it was for the best.
The more money I could begin college with, the better. My parents, Sarah and Phil Wakefield, weren’t exactly swimming in cash. In fact, most months we struggled to get by. Dad was a mechanic at a small shop in town, and Mom had stayed at home with me and Shaw until five years ago when she had teamed up with a friend and started a house cleaning service to supplement income.
They were both hard workers and put in a lot of hours, but that didn’t always equal great pay. Still, we were okay. But they weren’t going to be able to help me out much financially once I began school. My scholarship would only go so far, so I’d been working since I graduated, saving as much money as possible.
Who needed a distraction like Nash anyway?
But a month after the party while I was taking a break at work, my phone buzzed. My entire body lit with nervous energy when I saw who it was from. Nash.
“Do you have any idea how impossible you are to ignore?”
What did that mean?
When I didn’t respond he sent another text. “I’m an ass. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure I should get in touch with you being my teammate’s brother and all. And I had finals to study for, and then a short break with the family. But those are excuses. Forgive me?”
I chewed on my lip as I mulled it over. “So, why text now?”
“Because it was driving me crazy not to?”
I grinned. Though it was a bad idea, I messaged back. “Why?”
“Fishing for compliments already?” He included a laughing emoji and my cheeks hurt from grinning as I responded.
“I wouldn’t hate a few.”
“Fine, I’ll give you more than a few if you agree to come over. Not a party. I got the impression you weren’t a fan of them, so just us two hanging out. Do I stand a chance?” This time he used the wink emoji and I could easily picture him mimicking the expression.
My hand tightened around my phone. Would he want to hook up? Was that what this was? If so, he was going to be sorely disappointed with my lack of experience and skill, but excitement thrummed in my veins. Even if it were only a hookup, my interest was definitely piqued along with a healthy dose of anxiety. My fingers hovered above the keyboard as I contemplated if I should go. Slowly I tapped out a single word. “Maybe.”
The reply was instant. “Ren, are you in?”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose beneath my glasses as I tried to tell myself once again it would be a mistake. Who was I kidding? “Yeah, I’m in.”
Author of sweet and steamy MM romance.
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Quarterback Sneak #1
Broken Play #2
Recovered Fumble #3
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