The Winner Takes All (Complete Collection)

12. What If I Die Before We Fuck?

12

WHAT IF I DIE BEFORE WE FUCK?

Luke

I believe I instructed my libido to take a hike before this pseudo date.

But that fucker just can’t stay in time-out. Not when Tanner’s wearing that maroon polo that stretches snugly across his pecs. Not when he smells like ballpark soap. And not when I have to add the Comets Stadium shampoo to the list of scents that arouse me so much my brain resembles a fried egg.

But I have to try to be a good boy.

I’m ordering a beer and sitting across from Tanner in this tiny booth in the back of Thirsty, a hip brew pub in the East Village. It’s frequented by an artsy, punk crowd, judging from the prevalence of ripped jeans, brightly dyed hair, and ink.

Alt music blasts from the speakers and there’s not a TV in sight. No sports tickers. No sports shows. Just tunes and brew.

Did I pick this place because it’s not a sports bar?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Maybe we can slide under the radar. A couple of guys hanging together.

Only I barely feel like we’re two dudes hanging out. I’m hopped up on hormones, like I was at the ballpark when the word payback slipped from my mouth.

“I’ll be back shortly with your beers,” the purple-haired server says after she takes our orders. “Want anything else? We have some terrific apps.”

“You hungry?” I ask Tanner.

“I’m all good,” he says with a shake of his head.

Maybe he wants to be done with this publicity date redo. Or maybe he’s just not hungry. I haven’t eaten since lunch, but I’ll grab something later at home.

“Same here,” I say to her. “Just the beers.”

When she leaves, there’s an awkward moment where I look at Tanner, wondering what to say. Besides, want to hear what you did to me in the shower ?

Just act friendly, you dick.

I stretch my neck from side to side, trying to be casual. “Good game tonight. You were on fire out there.”

“Thanks. I felt good about it,” he says, downplaying his accomplishments when the dude knocked in a couple runs and scored twice.

“You should. But next time I come to a game, you should try harder to go deep,” I say, then wiggle my brows.

That’s friendly, right? We rib each other like this all the time.

“Thanks, Luke,” he says, his voice as intense as his gaze pinned on me. “I’ll do my best to go deep… for you .”

And…that’s not friendly. But I sure do like the sound of it. I like the command in his tone too. I’m not used to guys like him. His take-charge vibe is stirring me. “That’d be great,” I say, my mind flashing a reel of fantastically filthy images. Him going deep for me, with me.

“I mean, you do know how to hit with power,” I add, and yeah. My libido is flying this plane on autopilot.

“And I like to,” he adds, low and smoky, as we play a new game—sexy, dirty flirting at a bar. I want to keep moving pieces on the game board. One-up each other in the what I want to do to you department.

I want to ask, too, how he likes it. Discover what turns him on in bed. Find out how he wants me.

But we owe Reese a picture. And we said messing around was a one-time thing. And we’re friends. I squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds, trying to kick away the images. When I open them, I blow out a breath to reorient myself.

I’m here at Thirsty. With a friend. To take a pic for publicity. That is all.

“Was it good to see your family?” I ask, taking the wheel and jerking it in a new direction.

There. Talking about his family is a surefire way to reduce the number of erections I’ll suffer from tonight.

Tanner goes with the flow, handling the shift with ease as he says, “Definitely. It’s always good to see them. But Dad’s hitting tips are not as good as Elsie’s.”

Yes! Elsie! Another proven boner destroyer. “Don’t tell Dad,” I whisper. “He’d be devastated to learn she’s your new hitting coach.”

“That woman has eagle eyes.”

“She’s like a secret weapon,” I say, and I could kiss Elsie for helping me survive my libido. “We’ll have to make sure no one knows she’s the secret to your success.”

He brings his finger to his lips, shushing me softly. Fuck, that is hot. Why is that so hot?

Maybe because his finger’s placed on his lips, which makes me think of his fingers in my mouth. Pushing them deep, making me suck on them. Then his fingers exploring me. Everywhere.

And that vacuums up all the thoughts from my brain. I’ve got nothing now. Nothing but desire as I stare at Tanner’s lush mouth, and his big hands, and his strong body that I want to lick all over.

This is going to be the longest beer of my life.

When the server returns with our IPAs, I try once more. I lift the glass, offering a toast. “To friendship,” I say. It’s the first thing that comes to mind. Maybe because I desperately need a reminder.

The corner of his lips twitches, like he’s irritated or maybe disappointed? But then he smiles. A warm, familiar grin. “To friendship.”

That’s the only thing I should drink to with Tanner. “And your brother was there too at the game?”

“Zach was. But he didn’t give me any great stock tips, dammit.”

“Aw, man. What’s the point of having a Wall Street brother otherwise?”

“I don’t even know,” he says, seeming amused. “But I did tell him about some new bands. I’m working on him. Someday, I swear he’ll have good taste in music.”

I smile. This is nice. Familiar. I know his family. He knows my mom and sister. We can chat about anything. Doesn’t have to be sex. “I don’t know, Sloan. The music at his engagement barbecue was brutal.”

Tanner shudders. “Don’t remind me. My ears haven’t recovered from all that Bieber.”

“Seriously,” I say, cringing, too, from the memory of the painful pop playing at Tanner’s family’s backyard celebration in the spring. “Maybe we need to stage an intervention? Teach him how to use Spotify to find some decent music.”

Tanner’s blue eyes brighten. “Let’s do it, Remington.”

Remington. Sloan.

Yup. I’ve done it. I’ve avoided the iceberg of lust. It’s smooth friendship sailing now. If I can just stay the course, my libido won’t win.

“It’s a plan,” I say. “And I think I saw he brought Cassie. They looked good together.”

My buddy smiles. “Yeah, even though she’s a Minotaurs fan, I can forgive her since she makes him happy.”

“Their wedding is next month?”

“They’re squeezing it in on a Sunday I have off.”

“Aww, he still likes you,” I say.

“Or he couldn’t find another best man.”

“That must be it,” I say, but I sound a little distant even to my own ears since I’m picturing Tanner in a tux. I’ve seen him in one at an awards gala and he looked fine .

I linger on that image longer than I should as he takes another drink. I watch his lips, remembering how they felt on me yesterday, and picturing him in black tie as he tears off my clothes, so he can suck my cock again.

I’m a five-alarm fire now.

I need a bucket of ice water. I guzzle some beer to quench these flames.

As I’m drinking, Tanner adds, “And Amelia wants to set me up with some guy from work.”

What the fuck?

I choke on my beer. I nearly spit it out, but instead I try to swallow it, and then I’m wheezing on hops.

I can’t get air.

Tanner’s brow knits. “You okay, buddy?”

Not in the least. I’m coughing like crazy, and I’m feeling myself turn red in the face, and I’m picturing you with this other guy.

I sputter some more.

I spin out more on images, seeing him at the wedding, laughing, flirting, fucking some other guy that night.

I hate that image, but I also love that image.

I cough even harder.

“Shit, Luke,” he says, leaning closer across the wooden table, concern in his gaze.

Yeah, I’m worried too. Worried I’m going to die from beer in my windpipe and unexpected jealousy. And I am going to die before we fuck.

Tanner pops up, grabs a glass of water from a passing server, thanks her, then sits next to me on my side of the booth.

“Here. Take a drink,” he commands, then sets a hand on my upper back, rubbing it.

Great. Just great. He thinks I can’t even handle my liquor. But I take the water anyway, and it helps ease the coughing.

His hand soothing my back feels good too.

Soon, I’ve stopped hacking up all my lungs, but there are eyes on us now. A couple guys in cuffed jeans and band T-shirts at the bar are looking our way.

A group of women with face piercings are too.

Do they recognize us? Maybe. I don’t know. Sports fans come in all shapes and styles.

But I don’t want to be recognized. I just want to have a good time with my friend.

On this… second date.

A sharp and clear realization hits me all at once.

Tonight, I want to hang out with my buddy, then take him home and tell him exactly what I’ve been picturing.

Fuck that just one-time idea. I’m ready to throw that out the window for another time. And I’m going to hunt for the chance to say that.

When I turn and meet his gaze again, his eyes are shining with desire that matches mine. “Want to forget to take the picture and get out of here?” he asks quietly, like it costs him something.

His pride maybe as he makes himself vulnerable. But he has nothing to fear.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”