Chapter 18 Adrian
ADRIAN
A Few Weeks Later–Thanksgiving
“Lincoln is such a little shit,” Beck spits out as he falls into the seat across from me at the fancy gaming table set up in his grandparent’s giant basement.
“First whatever the hell happened with Parker and Oakley during the football game, I’m sure that’s why we lost. I can’t believe I have to sing at a game again this year.
And now he won’t shut up about how hot Jordan is during my turns playing pool.
He was obviously trying to distract me.”
“And it worked too,” his youngest brother, Lincoln, calls out as he lines up to start the next game with their other brother, Harrison, after beating Beck.
“Are you even into guys?” Beck demands.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Lincoln taunts back, a huge smile in place as he winks at Jordan who’s sitting next to me.
He groans, covering his face with his hands, mumbling “Keep me out of this” from behind them.
Usually, the Caldwell sibling teasing amuses me. I’ve been friends with Beck for long enough, and his family is welcoming enough, that I even feel like one of them most of the time when we all get together. But today has been a little… strange.
“Anyone have any idea what had Oakley so upset during the game?” I ask, looking around to see if anyone knows.
“You know how protective he is of Parker. He probably thought Lincoln messed up his diabetes pump or something,” Beck offers with a shrug.
“Should someone go check on them?” Cody, Beck’s now fiancé asks.
“Nah, no one can get through to him better than Parker can. I’m sure they’ll be fine by the time food’s ready,” Beck assures him.
Cody nods, and he’s all smiles again as he turns his attention to Jordan. “Thanks for spending so much time with Nick while we’ve been in Montana. I know he’s pretty lost right now, and your friendship means a lot to him. I wish he would have come today.”
Jordan looks uncomfortable, glancing away before he shrugs. “Nick is cool, you don’t have to thank me for being friends with him.”
“What the hell am I? Chopped liver?” Lincoln calls out. I have no idea how he’s following our conversation so well while it looks like he’s still winning his pool game. “I spend just as much time with Nick as Jordan does. Do I get a thanks?”
Cody looks surprised, glancing at Beck with wide eyes before turning his attention to Lincoln. “I didn’t realize you’d spent that much time with him. It’s great to hear he has even more support.”
I knew Jordan and Cody’s best friend, Nick, had been hanging out since he moved here from Montana, but Jordan failed to mention Lincoln was ever with them. Interesting. I will absolutely be grilling him about that later.
“So how are things going in Montana?” Jordan asks, obviously trying to shift the topic, but I’m interested in Cody’s answer so I don’t call him out for doing it.
“They’re okay given the circumstances. The psychologists and cult specialists have started talking with everyone, but there are so many people that they’ve had to start with large, mostly informative, sessions, and I think a lot of people are having a hard time separating that from the Kyla presentations. ”
“Ugh, that has to be so hard.”
“Plus so many people are without work now. It’s been really difficult to figure out the next steps. The donations that have been coming in from all over the world have been a huge help, and we can’t thank you both enough for everything you’ve done to help set everything up and spread the word.”
“Eh, it was mostly Jordan,” I say with a shrug.
“You both have been a huge help,” Beck insists. “We’re trying to figure out a replacement company or not-for-profit, something that would be able to employ all the people who were displaced by Kyla’s shut down, but we’ve only just been allowed to begin the process of acquiring the campus.”
“It’s a great setup. Maybe an existing company looking for new headquarters could move there?” I suggest.
“Yeah, that’s one of the options we’re exploring.”
“What about you, Adrian?” Cody asks. “How are things going with Hudson? I feel like I haven’t gotten to talk to you in person in so long.”
“Oh my god, I thought you’d never ask! Things with Hudson are…
annoyingly perfect,” I respond with a sigh.
“Other than the fact that he’s straight, he has continued to be the ideal roommate, even now, months later.
He also doesn’t seem to own any shirts, which I’m definitely not complaining about.
Honestly, the more time we spend together, the more I never want him to leave. ”
“Does he have a move-out date planned?”
“No, but he did finally close on that house right by me a few days ago. It needs quite a bit of work to get it how he wants it, though, so he’s asked to stay with me until the remodel is done.
” And when it is, he’ll no longer need me in his life.
I sigh again. “Would it be wrong to tell him it’s delayed forever so he never moves out? ”
“Probably.” Cody nods seriously.
“The way he wants it?” Jordan teases.
I glare at him. “Just because he asked me to make the design decisions, doesn’t mean he doesn’t agree with my choices. He’s going to love it.”
“He wants you to make all the decisions for his house?” Cody clarifies, and I nod.
“Wow, he really does sound like your dream man,” Beck adds.
“Well, his dream is to move into this gorgeous house, adopt a bunch of kids, and meet the perfect woman to raise them with, so I won’t be a part of the picture for much longer. He also officially applied to adopt now that he owns the house.”
“Really? Good for him for knowing what he wants and going after it,” Cody says with a huge smile.
Jordan leans over to nudge my shoulder with his. “That was all Adrian’s encouragement, too.”
“I just pointed out that he didn’t need to wait to be happy, and he agreed. No big deal.”
“It is. You’re completely changing his life and whatever kids he ends up adopting.” Jordan insists, and I feel my cheeks heat, but I don’t know how to respond, so I just shrug again. “It’s a great thing, Adrian. Even if I think you’re treating him like your boyfriend without benefits.”
“What’s he up to today? He should have come here,” Beck says, interrupting Jordan’s teasing.
I roll my eyes. Obviously, I wish there were benefits, but I’m also very aware that Hudson isn’t my boyfriend.
“I did invite him since there’s less than forty-eight hours between games, and he didn’t have time to see his family, but as soon as I mentioned it was at your family’s house, he turned down the offer.
I think he’s planning to video call his parents for their Thanksgiving meal. ”
“What’s wrong with my family?” Beck asks, sounding offended.
“How many times do I have to tell you that the players are afraid of you?”
“Even Hudson? He’s older than me! He’s been on the team since I was in college. I’m not even scary,” he huffs, crossing his heavily tattooed arms. Combined with his glare, he very much does look scary right now if you didn’t know he was such a softy underneath the resting bitch face.
“You’re still the boss,” I remind him.
“Whatever. He could have come.”
“It’s probably for the best since he doesn’t get to see his parents much. Plus, you all have given me enough shit over the past few months about us acting like a couple. I didn’t need to show up today with him at my side and have your entire extended family thinking we’re secretly together, too.”
“Ugh, I can’t wait for our player to come out. I wish it wasn’t a big deal, but I know it will be. You’re right though. We don’t want to start speculation about the wrong person, especially when we’re about to have an actual announcement.”
“Don’t sound so surprised that I know what I’m talking about,” I tease.
“Dinner’s ready,” someone calls from upstairs, and everyone immediately stands, forgetting all about our conversation in favor of food.
The Caldwells have a huge spread every year, and I am dying to get to dessert.
Their chef always makes my very favorite fudge, and they serve it with chocolate ice cream.
It’s one of my top five desserts of all time.
Dinner is amazing as always, but I’m distracted.
I wonder what food would be Hudson’s favorite, if his chef made him something special for today, or if I should bring home any leftovers for him to try.
I even catch my mind wandering to imagine a future Thanksgiving with Hudson in his new house, sitting around a table with a couple of kids saying what they’re thankful for, surrounded by tasteful yet fun fall decor.
I might even put myself at the table.
But hey, it’s my fantasy, so I can do what I want.
By the time everyone finishes eating and visiting, it’s been dark for hours. I drove all my friends, so as much as I would have loved to leave and catch Hudson before he’s asleep for the night, I’m not surprised that my place is dark when I finally get home.
It’s been a long day, and I’m a little more sluggish than usual as I put away the leftovers Beck’s grandparents insisted I bring home with me. I want to fall into bed and stay there for days. I typically have an elaborate nighttime skin-care routine, but there’s no way that’s happening tonight.
I shuffle into my room, eyes already half closed, manage to ditch the cashmere sweater I’d been wearing, and change into my silk sleep shorts when I hear it.
A moan.
A very loud moan. My pulse skyrockets and all my blood rushes south because that was not a sound of pain.
I spin to look at my door, suddenly very awake as I confirm that I didn’t shut it all the way like I normally do before bed. Was Hudson’s door closed? Are both of our doors open while he’s making the most sexual noises I’ve ever heard in person?
I should close my door… right?
For a moment, I panic that I’ve interrupted an actual hookup, that he invited someone over, so I pull out my phone to quickly scan today’s footage from my video doorbell app.
I don’t want to be a stalker, but if there’s a woman in his room, I’m immediately shutting the door and running into the bathroom where I can attempt to drown out the noises of my dream man with someone else.
There’s no one on the video though. The only motion, aside from me, is when Hudson went on a run this morning. He’s been home alone ever since. And he was alone last night when we were watching TV; it’s not like someone spent the night and is still here.
Which means he’s the only one in his room, on the other side of my wall, with both of our doors open and jerking off.
He probably has no idea he isn’t alone in the house. I thought he was already asleep, so I was quiet and didn’t turn the hall lights on.
“Ohhhh fuuuuck,” he clearly groans, and any thoughts of shutting the door are gone as my cock jerks in response to the sound.
He might hear the door if I close it, and then he’d realize I heard him.
It would be awkward, and I don’t need to risk putting either of us through that.
I do, however, desperately need to get off.
I’m not strong enough to ignore the free audio performance he’s providing.
I ditch my shorts and grab my lube as quickly as I can.
The sounds Hudson is making, combined with the taboo fact that I’m an unknown audience member for his show, that he doesn’t know I can hear what he’s doing as I settle onto my bed and wrap my hand around my cock, have me immediately hard as fucking stone.
My dick is already leaking, and I spread the precum around the head before I add lube.
I picture Hudson’s full lips hanging open as another obnoxious moan escapes his throat.
I image telling him to be quiet, that I have neighbors and he needs to learn to control his moans, as much as I fucking love them, or I’ll need to step in and shut him up with my cock.
In my fantasy he eagerly agrees, wrapping those perfect lips around me and sucking me into his warm mouth as deep as he can.
The idea of such a stereotypically masculine man, this professional athlete with his big muscles and a full beard, submitting so easily to my pleasure has me fighting a moan of my own.
Unlike him, though, I actually need to remain quiet so he never finds out I’m jerking off to the sound of him doing the same thing on the other side of the wall.
He lets out a higher noise, almost a whimper, and I adjust my fantasy.
I don’t want to be discouraging those sounds: I want to be the one causing them.
Now he’s on his hands and knees with his ass out, begging me to fuck him.
I imagine taking my time stretching him open, using my mouth and tongue to really show him how amazing I can make him feel as I get him ready for my cock.
I increase the pressure of my hand as I continue to stroke myself, picturing my dick slowly sinking into Hudson’s hole, so fucking tight as it practically sucks me into him as if every part of him wants us to be joined in this new way.
My hips are thrusting without my permission, desperate for more, for the fantasy to be real, for the release I’m chasing, more of everything.
I must be completely delusional as pleasure consumes me, and my orgasm overwhelms my senses, because for a moment, as my eyes practically roll into the back of my head, I almost think the deep moan Hudson draws out sounds like my name.
If only.