“How about I touch you?” Girard panted, his chest heaving. “That’s what you really want.”
Our eyes locked, awareness flickering through his and, Christ, he knew. He knew I wanted so fucking bad to be touched. By anyone, but mostly by Girard. The idea of it utterly consumed me.
I squirmed, my skin heating to a boiling point as I watched Girard chase his release. When his come spurted over his fist, he groaned. I’d never seen anything so fucking hot in my life. I shut my eyes, letting my own orgasm overtake me, the room whiting out. And for one perfect moment, I felt free. Alive.
Humiliation couldn’t worm its way inside me, not this time.
An insistent knock startled me awake, and I blinked repeatedly, trying to get my bearings. I’d been napping on the couch, and now I stumbled bleary-eyed toward the door, only to find Kellan waiting there.
“Donovan isn’t back yet,” I grumbled, forking my fingers through my hair and wishing I could adjust my painful erection. Both Donovan and Hollister had gone home to see their families, so I had the house all to myself. I didn’t always appreciate the silence, but after another busy week of classes and games, I was pretty beat.
“I’m not here for Donovan.”
“Huh?” Ah, hell, I was supposed to help him with the bowling fundraiser today.
He folded his arms. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“No, I…” My shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I did.”
Or maybe I’d just pushed the idea of seeing Girard away from the baseball field out of my mind so it didn’t become nerve-racking. But after that fucking dream, how could it not? Holy Christ, what had that been about? It was enough that our alone time in the hotel room the previous weekend had changed the dynamic between us, to say the least. The talking, laughing, and staring was all pretty confusing and surreal. Like finally getting private time with the guy I was desperately trying not to have a crush on for the better part of a year. That probably explained it—that, and Girard walking around our room naked, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“It’s okay. I won’t rat you out,” Kellan said, then motioned over his shoulder. “Besides, Jaz is driving, and she told me to pick up your lazy ass.”
“She could’ve given me a heads-up.” I glanced at her car idling at the curbside. “Just give me a few and I’ll be right out.”
I strode to the bathroom to take a leak and splash cold water on my face. I fixed my unruly hair in the mirror, then smoothed my fingers over the creases in my worn T-shirt and gray sweatpants, figuring I looked decent enough.
“Guess you don’t check your texts,” Jasmine said smugly as I slid in the back seat. I lifted my phone and saw the message from her. Crap.
“I was napping.”
“Donovan does the same thing. If I napped that much, I’d never get any sleep at night,” Kellan said as Jasmine pulled onto the street.
“Why are you along for the ride?” I asked Jasmine. “You bored or something?”
She glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Something like that.”
Kellan turned to face me. “She’s fighting with her girlfriend, and now Jaz is giving her the silent treatment.”
Jasmine shushed him, the deep flush on her cheeks matching her lip gloss.
“What? It’s true.”
I leaned forward. “Trouble in paradise?”
The very first night Jaz and I hung out, we’d had a conversation about our shitty parents, and I’d felt this kinship with her. She was really pretty, and at one time I would’ve pursued her for a hookup, but soon enough, I found out she wasn’t interested—at least not that night—and in hindsight, I was glad for it because we most likely wouldn’t have become friends.
“You know us bisexuals—we just can’t seem to make up our minds,” she quipped, quoting one of the stereotypes she’d complained about another time we’d talked about her sexuality.
“Seriously, you should also stop having so many threesomes,” Kellan teased. “Not that the gays don’t hold part of the market on throuples.”
My brain was going to explode, being in the same car as these two. I was normally around straight people who tended to be uptight about such conversations—though certainly not others, like sexual positions. Go figure.
“Sorry, queer humor,” Kellan said, motioning with his hand to the back seat.
“No worries. It doesn’t… So, when did you know?” I blurted. “That you were gay, I mean.”
Holy shit, where had that come from?
Well, I did almost have a wet dream about another guy for Christ’s sake.
“If I knew I’d be telling my coming-out story on this trip, I would’ve prepared better,” he teased.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I was only curious.”
“No, it’s totally cool.” He and Jasmine shared a look that left my stomach tumbling. I wanted to take my question back so they wouldn’t be able to read me so easily.