“You don’t deserve that.”
I didn’t. But then, did anyone? “It sucks, ya know? I used to wonder what it was like to have a real father, one who gave a shit. He only cared about himself—not me, not his career, just himself, money, fame, and having a good time. All I am to him now is what I can give him.” I took a swallow from my beer, surprised I’d shared that with him. I didn’t typically crack open my heart and show my insecurities that way. “Fuck, I have no idea why I said that.”
I could see it in his eyes, that he was as shocked as me, but pleased I’d opened up to him. I also knew he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, and there weren’t enough words for how much I appreciated that.
Garrett shrugged. “That’s kinda how we’ve been from the start. I told you about how I feel getting compared to Houston.”
“True. You’re a strong player on your own, G. Even if the comparisons are out there, it doesn’t take away from how badass you are.”
“You’re just saying that because you want in my ass,” he countered.
“You’ll let me in there regardless. You’re always begging for this cock.” He laughed, and I plucked a piece of ice out of my water and threw it at him. “I’m sorry again about today.”
“I’ve been dealing with that for years, Rams. It’s not going away.”
“Yeah, but I haven’t. It’s not easy to sit back and hear someone you care about being called a name like that.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then took a drink of his beer. I couldn’t help wondering what he’d almost said.
The waitress showed up with our food, breaking up the weird heaviness in the air. When she was gone, Garrett said, “You have mine.”
My brows pulled together. “Your what?”
“Earlier you said you wondered what it was like to have a real family. You have mine—well, ours. Mine and Houston’s. They love the shit out of you.”
Yeah, I did have them.
We stared at each other, my chest feeling a little tight. Jesus, he really was so fucking sexy—his plump lips, the sweep of his hair over his forehead, his smile.
Garrett said, “We haven’t fucked in the game room…or your home gym. We should give one of those a go next.”
Part of me hated the change of subject, but the other part was thankful as fuck. This was stupid. It was a rookie move crushing on your friend’s brother, on your teammate, but as we continued to eat, laugh, and talk, I wondered if that was exactly what I was doing.
16
GARRETT
“You got one more rep in you?” Ramsey asked as I pushed upright from the weighted squat and the bar rattled back into place.
“Nope.” Sweat dripped down my face, but I kept my hands on the bar because I knew what was coming next. I was already regretting agreeing to work out with him in his home gym.
“Yeah ya do. Go again.”
“Last one, fucking task master.” My thighs and glutes were on fire. “I thought bye week was for relaxing,” I groused as I set my shoulders and slid the bar out of its supports. Again. I lowered slowly, quads screaming every inch of the descent as Ramsey watched from behind me.
“Get that ass out farther.”
“Your favorite words,” I gritted, catching him grin in the mirror. “I see you shamelessly looking at it too.”
“Just watching your form.”
“Right.”
“Now back up again.”
Another bead of sweat rolled down my temple as I strained to straighten. Ramsey was behind me in an instant, spotting me and helping me push the bar back into place.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my head sagging forward as I panted. “What kind of prize do I get for that one?”
“Some sweet muscle gains? A shower?” Ramsey’s fingertips drifted over my knuckles, and I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with him in the mirror as his hard cock pressed into my ass.
“Nope.” I shook my head slowly. “Want something better.”
Goose bumps prickled across the back of my neck as Ramsey brushed a kiss over my nape. His hands closed over the tops of mine on the bar. “Something like this?”
“I’m sweaty.” That was just a warning, not a refusal.
He licked the side of my neck in response. “Don’t care.”
So weighted squats turned Ramsey on. I added that to my mental file and let out a soft groan, pulse spiking as he sucked gently on the other side.
“How about you keep those hands glued right where they are,” he told me, skimming his fingers down my side, to my front, then sliding them inside the waistband of my shorts.
Ramsey inched my shorts lower, exposing my hardening cock to the cool air of his weight room as we both watched the mirror. My breathing went ragged as he cupped my balls, stroking a thumb over them while his hips rolled against my ass.