Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
“I’m just checking in on you,” I hear Maya say over the phone. She sounds like she’s rushing somewhere, so I appreciate her taking the time. “How are you? I should have called earlier, but I’ve been so busy working on all of this…”
“You off to another interview now?”
“Yeah, this blew open a can of worms, Myles. I mean, my god, the corruption. This is more than just Colton being manipulated and threatened at this point. This involves the whole goddamn legal system. I mean, even the chief of police is involved. There was never any autopsy ordered on Colton’s father, for fuck’s sake. It all looks so bad.”
I knew some of that from what I’ve seen on the news, but hearing it from her confirms it.
“Shit.”
“Yeah, so I think you fucking Colton or vice versa isn’t a big deal anymore. At least to the public, anyway. If anything, they have your back. They know you’re both victims in all of this. Releasing those images and videos of you just made those assholes look like, well, assholes.”
“Thanks, have you, um…have you heard from him?”
She hesitates, and I hear a rustling in the background, as if she’s searching for something.
“Shit, no. He just called me to tell me to publish what I had, and I did. And now this. I mean, damn, who knew it would blow everything wide open? Has he not contacted you?”
“Not really. Just some texts that don’t say anything.”
“Well, fuck. I mean, he has to have a good reason, you know? He adores you.”
I don’t really believe that, but I let her go because I can tell she’s busy.
When I hang up, I try to work on some homework, but it’s hard to concentrate, my mind filtering back to Colton every few minutes.
Mostly because I know he has a home game tonight, which means he’ll be on campus.
He’ll be here, and he still hasn’t come by to see me, to kiss me, to explain.
So I stew, fiddling with my phone until after dinner when it finally lights up with a message.
I stare down at it, my heart thrumming in my chest.
Come to the game tonight. Wear my jersey.
It makes my face flame. The fact that he hasn’t given me anything all week, and yet asks this of me.
Fuck him, I think as I shove the jersey on and do my hair.
If I see him, I want to look good. I want him to see what he’s been missing.
He’s left me to endure the giggles and whispers alone as I walk through campus, while I sit in class. This Monday, I even have a meeting with a counselor to discuss how I’m coping with all of this.
I want to scream that I’d be just fine if he were with me. If he acknowledged this publicly. If he held my hand and faced it all by my side.
Maybe, just maybe, I’d be feeling better about this whole thing if he were here.
I shove a hoodie on and stomp out of the house, making my way to the stadium where he’s going to be playing.
My hood covers my head, but my size gives me away, and I’m greeted by several people, some slapping me on the back, others avoiding me altogether.
You can’t win them all, I guess. But still, I don’t like that a few people I considered friends are now ignoring me.
I guess it’s their loss. They weren’t good friends to begin with.
I take a seat in the stadium and immediately hear the whispers around me.
Two girls are talking about Colton and me, the videos, and our relationship.
I want to turn around and tell them that we probably aren’t together anymore. That it’s over.
But I don’t. I just shove that thought away.
It’s not over until he tells me it is. So instead, I turn and watch the soccer team run onto the field.
My hands clench against my thighs as Colton appears, his long legs flexing, those tattoos glistening on his tan skin, those lean muscles bunching. I grow hot all over.
Fuck, even from a distance, he affects me.
He stops running to speak to a few teammates. All around me, the crowd is hollering at him, cheering, and a few Pride flags fly high. His gaze swivels around the hordes of people, looking for something, someone.
Me.
They land on my slouched form, and his lips twitch slightly.
It makes me shrink back, but there’s nowhere to escape.
The whispers about us grow louder as the game starts, only dissipating into screams as our team overtakes the other.
I’m riveted as Colton scores two goals, and I jump up with the crowd to cheer for him before slinking down and berating myself.
He left me alone, I remind my eager brain.
He didn’t explain why.
I try to remain calm as I watch him play, his legs so agile, sweat dripping down his jaw. He looks so fucking hot, so fucking good. I want to kiss him, want to pull him into me and let him run that tongue across my body.
When halftime comes, I’m a horny, confused mess. I’m angry with him for having this effect on me, overheated from wearing the sweatshirt over his jersey, and turned on by how hot he is.
When the cheerleaders come out and begin their routine, I stand up, needing to go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face. But before I can, I hear my name over the loudspeaker.
“Myles! I know you’re there!”
Colton. His voice is booming my name.
I turn slowly and see him standing there, a microphone at his lips.
“Myles Witkoff, come down here right now.”
I feel eyes on me, the slow-growing cheers as people wait for me to move. I move my hood off my head and run a hand through my hair.
“Come on, baby,” he says, and I can’t help but turn and step toward him, moving down the stairs as the sounds around me grow louder and louder. Cheers, whistles. Excitement.
This. This is what they wanted from us.
When I finally make it to the bottom of the stairs, security ushers me onto the field. The crowd is almost deafening.
Colton’s gaze meets mine, and he offers me a soft smile.
“Take that sweatshirt off so they can see what you’re wearing,” he says into the microphone, and I blush.
“Fuck off,” I murmur back as I do as he says, pulling the hoodie off my shoulders and exposing his name on the back of the jersey I’m wearing.
The crowd loses it when they see it, and it only grows as Colton takes a step forward, the mic dropping to his side, his other hand curling against the back of my neck.
“I’m so sorry I left without an explanation, but I promise it’s a good one. I did it for us. For you.”
That makes me shudder in relief as he pulls me forward, and his lips meet mine.
The kiss is rough, all tongue and spit, possessive and domineering.
I can’t help but sink into it, realizing how much I missed this while he was gone and knowing that I forgive him already.
If he says it’s a good explanation, then I believe him.
My hands sink into his hair, and I pull him into me, everything else fading into the background. And when we pull apart, our lips are wet, our bodies vibrating with need.
“I missed you,” he mouths, and I swallow back my emotion.
“I missed you, too.”
His hand reaches out, and he places something in my hand.
I turn my palm up and see my grandma’s lucky coin sitting there.
“You did steal it. Why?”
He leans forward and whispers in my ear. “I wanted your kind of luck. I wanted just a second of what you had. But now I don’t need it.”
“Why?”
“Because I have you. And that’s as lucky as I can possibly get. I love you, Myles.”
Tears blur my vision as I pull him in for another kiss, and I hear the crowd go wild.
This all may not have gone exactly as I planned, but it did end the way I wanted it to.
Him with me, and me with him. For the whole world to see.
The game is over. Colton is riding the high of winning, and I’m still riding the high from him kissing me and professing his love in front of everyone.
I didn’t go back to my seat in the crowd after that.
I sat with the team, most of them welcoming me with slaps on the back and fist bumps.
A few didn’t acknowledge me, but they didn’t sneer either.
So, to me, it ended well. A turning point in sports, I think.
Colton meets me outside the locker room, his hair damp from the shower, his body smelling like soap. But more than that, he looks happy. Free.
I need to know what happened.
“You look good,” I tell him, and he grins.
“It’s all the winning I’m doing.”
“Fuck off,” I laugh, and he brings me in for another kiss. It’s met with catcalls and jeers, but they’re mostly all in good humor. So we let it go, linking hands and walking to our cars in the parking lot.
“When did you get back?” I ask him.
“Right before the game. Everything had to happen now. Before things got worse.”
“What things?”
He glances around and bites his lip.
“Can I tell you at your place? I want to make sure no one overhears. It’s not public yet.”
That makes my heart skip a beat. He does trust me. He wants to share this part of his life with me. So I nod and lead the way to my place in my car. When he’s finally inside my bedroom, I pull him into me, holding him tightly.
“I was worried it was over.”
“I told you it wasn’t. I just had so many meetings, and I can’t talk about them publicly. Not yet.”
“What happened?”
His eyes meet mine. “I sold my shares of the company. I’m out.”
“I knew it,” I whisper. “I knew you would. What convinced you to?”
“Samuel. He said my dad didn’t want me to live like this. It took a few hours of really going back and forth, telling him everything I’ve been dealing with, before I decided to do it. And I did. And fuck, I feel free.”
His forehead hits my shoulder, and I feel him shudder.
“You’re free.”
“I am. I’m not beholden to them anymore. I never have to see any of them again if I don’t want to.”
“Who did you sell the shares to?”
“That’s up to the board to decide. But I really wanted Samuel to have them. He was friends with my dad, after all.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“Yeah, it does. It feels amazing, too. I can’t believe it.”
“It’s real, and it’s happening.”
“It is, and my mom and stepdad look like such assholes. I can’t believe Maya pulled it off.”
“She has a way about her.”
“She does. It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
“You are too. Hell, Myles, I’m so fucking sorry I disappeared, that I had you go to that lunch the first day all alone.
But I had to get this done when they were distracted, while they were gloating and they thought they’d won.
I needed to meet with all the board members to convince them not to ice me out because of those photos, or to turn around and sell my shares to Erick.
It took me longer than expected, but they all sided with me.
I hope you understand that I needed to be done with all of it, so now we can focus on us. On our future.”
“I get it. It just hurt, you know? Going to that lunch alone, and you not showing up. It’s a good thing I have Paulie.”
“I’m so fucking sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
I think about him kissing me in front of the entire stadium and sigh. “I already have. Just wanted you to know that it hurt to be ignored, to be left out.”
“I won’t hurt you again. I promise.”
“You better not.”
“I won’t. And I decided to start therapy to help me process all of this. Everything I’ve gone through for the past ten years.”
“That’s a good idea.”
I pull him closer, and my lips go to his neck, pressing a kiss to his pulse point.
It jumps under my touch, and I feel his cock perk up.
“It’s been so long since I’ve fucked you. I thought about you every night. Every day, really. I missed you like crazy.”
“Yeah, same.”
His eyes meet mine, and he cups my cheeks softly. “I want you to fuck me.”
That makes my head reel back. “What? Are you serious?”
“I am. I had a lot of days to think about it, and I want it…to try it with you.”
My cock is achingly hard now. “We don’t have to rush it.”
“You think I’m not strong enough to take your dick?”
I let out a laugh and then kiss him hard. “I think you might cry like a baby. I’m a lot tougher than you. I see how soccer players fake injuries on the field. Your kind can’t take it.”
He rolls his eyes and then a second later I’m on the bed, his hands shucking my pants off.
“I’ll show you.”
His eyes are twinkling as I pull my shirt off, and he kicks his clothes off. When he’s completely naked, I lean up and pull him onto me, kissing him endlessly. It’s tongue and spit and moans until he reaches over and grabs the lube.
“Open me up for you,” he says, his voice a rasp.
He turns, his ass exposed, and I’m left to do nothing but spread him open and gently press my fingers inside. He takes them slowly, first one and then two. By the time I’m on my third finger, he’s groaning, his body trembling slightly.
“Fuck, that feels weird.”
“Weird enough that you want me to stop?”
“Hell no. I’m winning this one, Myles.”
He spins around, straddling my hips, and he reaches back, grabbing onto my dick and slotting it at his hole.
“Breathe out and bear down,” I tell him.
He does the opposite of what I tell him and starts to squirm when the head of my cock doesn’t slide right in.
“Relax,” I tell him, and he glowers at me. “Or you can just fuck me.”
“No.”
He reaches behind him and spreads his cheeks, doing as I instructed earlier. And then the head of my cock pops into his tight hole.
I gasp at the sensation, holding my breath as his eyes widen.
“Fuck. That’s a lot.”
I nod, my fingers digging into his hips as his hands fall to my chest.
And then he slowly sinks onto me, an inch at a time, groaning and gasping as I enter him, and when he’s fully impaled on me, he pauses. His lungs inhale and exhale slowly, working through the intrusion.
His eyes slam into mine, and he smiles softly. “The fact that you want this so often is impressive.”
“It feels so fucking good.”
“Yeah,” he replies and then shifts his hips up and slides back down on me. It’s slow and careful, but it’s the best sex I’ve ever had. I don’t last long, filling him with my cum in record time.
He doesn’t come from the penetration, but when I pull out, I flip him onto his back and suck his dick until he does.
And then we lie against each other, touching endlessly, whispering promises in each other’s ears, until we finally fall fast asleep.
I know when we wake up, we’ll move forward through all of this together.
That’s a promise.