2. Brody
2 /
brody
I locked the door behind me like Gabe was hot on my heels. My heart hammered, and my hands shook so violently it took three tries to unclip Otto’s leash. The second he trotted off, I rushed into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa like the drama queen I’d become. I threw an arm over my face, trying to block out the reality of what had just happened, but it didn’t help.
What the almighty fuck was going on? After barely managing to hold it together in front of Gabe, I was now unraveling completely. Seeing him had shaken me in ways I wasn’t ready to deal with: a half-naked man—a teammate, no less—who was exactly what I wanted but everything I had to resist. The pull toward him was undeniable, and the need to touch him was nearly irresistible. It was terrifying, exhilarating, and completely out of my control. Although I’d done all I could to lock my feelings down after what happened in Boston, I still couldn’t escape the truth. I liked men. I was drawn to jocks like a moth to a flame, and now I wanted a teammate. Because of my past, that scared me more than I could bear to think about.
I’d moved into my new house last Friday, and the four days since had been a whirlwind of unpacking, setting up entertainment and computer equipment, and making sure I didn’t accidentally squash Otto under a stray box. This morning, I’d done a final sweep, making sure everything was in place before taking the still partially packed boxes to the basement and the empty ones to the garage. Otto and I needed a break, so after a quick lunch, we headed out to walk in the nearby park. Although it was stifling outside, the fresh air was a welcome change. The realtor had taken me to see the park while I was deciding whether to buy the house, and it was a big selling point. The jogging trail was lush and shady; with a babbling brook running alongside for most of the way, it was the perfect place to escape.
I didn’t know Gabe lived next door until I saw him on Friday. He’d been around every day since—watering his lawn, heading out for a run, or sometimes driving away in his beast of a G-Wagon. He was hotter than any male on two legs had a right to be, and I couldn’t even pretend I hadn’t looked out the window a hundred times a day, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
He was a living overdose for my libido. Dark and brooding, with powerful muscles, chiseled cheekbones, and enough hair on his face to give me beard burn, he was exactly the kind of man I was drawn to. The kind of man I shouldn’t be thinking about. Admiring from afar seemed harmless because I knew I wouldn’t act on the desires burning me up inside. Watching him from the safety of my living room was a far cry from doing something reckless and ending up in another catastrophe, like needing the league to broker a deal that made my departure from the Beanies look like a trade instead of being run out of town on a rail.
Whatever the drawbacks to being Gabe’s neighbor were, there was a terrific perk: he made for some spectacular jerk-off fantasies. The way he swaggered around his yard, usually shirtless and sweaty, was enough to keep me coming for days. But it was all in my head, and that’s where Gabe had to stay so I’d be safe. Dreams and dirty thoughts couldn’t hurt me; reckless behavior already had.
Over the weekend, my traitorous brain had conjured up all kinds of excuses to go over and announce we were neighbors, but sanity had thankfully prevailed. My therapist had been encouraging me for months not to let bad experiences make me fear my homosexual attractions, but I wasn’t having much luck with that. I couldn’t handle a repeat of what happened in Boston, and while I craved sex with a man—needed that connection in ways I shouldn’t admit—I wasn’t willing to risk it.
I started hooking up with guys in college, but there was never anything serious. I was still into women too, so why not have a little fun? Since I wasn’t in a relationship, no one was getting hurt. I kept things casual on both sides, and, honestly, I enjoyed it. Back then, I assumed I’d settle down one day and marry a woman. I had friends who were bi, so it all felt normal—no big deal. That worked for a while, at least until I joined the Beanies and met Wesley.
Wes changed everything. He was the Beanies’ star center, and he turned my world upside down. For a while, I thought I might fall in love with him, even though he never gave me a reason to believe he felt the same. Deeply closeted, he turned my life into a string of secret, fevered thrills. We both knew it was reckless, but the pull between us was too strong to resist. When the secret got out, everything imploded—on the ice, in the locker room, and everywhere else. Wes pinned the blame on me, claiming I’d seduced him; our teammates, who practically worshipped the ice he skated on, bought it. He walked away unscathed, while I was left to face the fallout. Saying they treated me like shit doesn’t even scratch the surface.
So why did I feel like the ground shifted every time I saw Gabe? After the disaster with Wes, I’d tried to bury my attraction to men so deep it could never claw its way to the surface again, but a man like Gabe could test my determination to the limit. Although every part of me was pulling in the opposite direction, aching to break free, I had to remain strong and keep my guard up. I may have been getting way ahead of myself anyway, because who knew if Gabe was truly interested in me? Maybe he just liked to flirt, but I couldn’t risk letting myself find out.
When Gabe jogged down the street over the weekend, I figured he was headed for the trail. If I’d seen him leave today, I would have led Otto in the other direction. Instead, thinking the coast was clear, I took us to the park. Blissfully unaware of what I’d find ahead, we took our time enjoying the fresh air and beautiful autumn colors.
“Fuck me upside down!” I screamed inside my head the moment I saw him. He’d been hunched over, powerful arms braced on his huge quads, with a soaked tank top dangling from one hand. My heart kicked into overdrive, and when he straightened up, the world tilted. Forget sculpted perfection because he was far more than that; Gabe was a vision brought to life. Broad shoulders flowed seamlessly into chiseled pecs, which tapered into rock-hard abs that gave “twelve-pack” a new meaning. Dark tufts of hair accented a breathtaking expanse of masculinity, and his sweat-slick skin gleamed like something out of a porn video.
Not that I watched porn, but I’d heard about it.
Gabe tried to make conversation, but all I could manage were vague, mumbled responses. I was too afraid to say much because sexy men had a way of triggering reactions I couldn’t always predict. Years of denial had taught me how to compartmentalize in locker rooms, but anywhere else, I was a disaster. I tried not to look at Gabe, but he was impossible to ignore. Everything about him drew me in, no matter how hard I tried to resist. Then he asked if I was all right.
Shit. Busted. My brain tripped over itself trying to find an excuse for ogling him, but I came up empty. He watched me with bottomless blue eyes. “Y-yes,” I stammered. “I’m… I’m just hot.”
He ran a hand up the side of his body, like he wanted to make sure I’d noticed. As if I could have missed it? Needing space, I stepped back, but then his eyes swept over me, and I started shaking as my thoughts went sideways. Is he checking me out, or am I about to pass out from heat stroke? Definitely heat stroke. The kind sparked by the fire he radiated in every direction.
Around the time I was about to faint, he met my eyes. His deep, hypnotic gaze drew me in, and I got dizzy. I couldn’t think about anything but taking him to bed and keeping him there for a few days.
At least I didn’t touch him—until I did. When he held out his hand, I froze, silently praying his nose might itch so he’d forget about the handshake. No such luck. I couldn’t snub a new teammate, so I stepped forward, summoned my best tough-guy voice, and said hello as I clasped his hand. The instant our palms met, heat shot up my arm and into my face, burning my cheeks. His scent—a mix of sweat, the earthy tang of exertion, and a warmth that was unmistakably masculine—went straight to my balls, sparking a surge of desire I couldn’t stop.
Old hookup reflexes roared to life, and my mind raced into fantasy mode: his strong arms pulling me close, his sweat soaking into my shirt as his mouth claimed mine. I’d be his in a heartbeat because he’d know exactly how to make that happen.
I was trying to reel in those inappropriate thoughts when my dick started getting hard. Mortified, I dropped his hand so I could cover my burgeoning boner. The sudden movement nearly made me lose my grip on the leash, and Otto—sensing his chance—pulled hard against it. A weak, almost pitiful noise escaped me as I fought to hold on, all the while desperately trying to keep my growing erection hidden.
I forced my gaze downward because if I’d kept my eyes on Gabe, my dick would have been at full mast in no time. Seconds ticked by, and when I’d gotten myself under control, I glanced up and said the first thing that came to mind: “Otto and I bought a house out here.”
Gabe smiled and said something, but with my heart still pounding and a storm raging in my brain, I struggled to understand his words. For a ridiculous instant, I thought he said he wanted to give me his number, that he’d show me around if I texted him. Then I realized he’d said exactly that.
I hadn’t been drinking, so what could explain acting like a complete idiot in the middle of the park? While I pondered that, Gabe’s lips curved into the sexiest smile I’d seen in a long time. He was waiting for me to say something, and I racked my brain for a brilliant reply. “Your number?” I asked. To make the moment perfect, my voice cracked like I was thirteen, and my cheeks blazed yet again.
He pointed at my pocket. “Yeah. Go ahead, get your phone out. You have it with you, right?”
My phone? No fucking way. Who brings their phone along to walk the dog? In fact, I’m not even sure I own a phone. That’s what I wanted to say, but he would have thought I was completely unhinged. I dug the damn thing out of my pocket, dropping Otto’s leash in the process. I hoped he would bolt, giving me an excuse to run after him and avoid the entire situation. But no, the little traitor remained glued to Gabe’s feet, looking up at him adoringly.
Resigned to my fate, I unlocked the screen, telling myself that having Gabe’s number didn’t mean I had to use it. I glanced at him. “Ready.”
His smile twitched before he recited his number. My hand shook so badly that I kept messing up, needing to backspace, but after a few painfully awkward moments, I finally got it right.
“Want to read it back to me?” he asked. “You seemed to be having some trouble.”
You seemed to be having some trouble , I mimicked in my head as embarrassment made me want to sink into the ground. I tried to ignore the surge of heat crawling up the back of my neck while I stammered through the number. I had it right, but the damage was done.
Gabe nodded. “So, you’ll text?”
I had trouble getting my phone back into my pocket because Gabe’s hypermasculine presence had robbed me of basic motor skills. “I’ll text, but right now, I’m, uh… late.”
“No problem.” He flashed another eye-popping smile. “I’m free anytime this week.”
I’m free anytime this week . I mocked him internally again, my brain short-circuiting. His words were the push I needed to get the fuck out of there before I did something appalling, like suggest going home with him right then. I snatched up Otto’s leash and muttered a quick, barely coherent goodbye before taking off down the trail, practically dragging my poor dog behind me.
Gabe called out, but I was so shocked I’d agreed to message him, I didn’t even glance back.
Ugh. Now, thanks to my moment of insanity, I’d have to text him—unless I saw him first. He obviously didn’t know we were neighbors, but it was only a matter of time. With a massive sigh, I rolled onto my side, stared out the window, and wondered what I really wanted. That took all of half a second because I’d known the answer all along: I wanted to fuck Gabe’s brains out.
Clenching my fists on either side of my head, I roared in frustration. What the fucking goddamn shitty hell had I done? Hadn’t I learned anything from the past year?
The one thing I absolutely didn’t want was a repeat of the past. Hiding a relationship? Miserable. Ending up alone and depressed? Even worse. Getting beaten up by teammates? Unthinkable. Becoming the team’s laughingstock while lawyers tossed around terms like “sexual orientation discrimination,” “hostile work environment,” “lawsuits,” “settlements,” and “nondisclosure agreements”? Pure hell.
I sat up and shook my head, forcing those thoughts away. The nightmare was over. This was a new team in a new city. These days, I found joy in small things: waking up to a beautiful morning, hanging out with Otto, and walking in the fresh air. Well, except for today, I guess.
But had it really been that bad? The nature walk was beautiful, and Otto and I had a good time. Even when things got dicey, I’d ended up face-to-face with a man far hotter than I ever saw in the porn that replaced my sex life. Fine, I admit it. I watch porn. The incendiary man even gave me his number and practically begged me to get in touch. If I’d had the self-control to make up an excuse and leave without saying yes, I’d be able to tell my therapist today was a win. Instead, I’d have to confess to a lapse in judgment that landed me in a very awkward situation. I couldn’t avoid Gabe for long because training camp would start soon. What the hell was I supposed to do?
Go find a woman , I thought. Get laid. And maybe put my brand-new house on the fucking market.