Chapter Nine
Kason
When I woke up this morning, I definitely didn’t imagine the day ending with news of me and Anthony all over the media.
But that part I can handle. It comes with the gig.
Discovering that he never thought we were dating in the first place?
That’s a huge blow to the ego. But even more than that, it makes me sad.
I want Anthony. I want to date him, and I think he wants to date me too, but something is holding him back.
“How would we even do that?” he asks. “Just be friends.”
“Apparently the same way we’ve been doing?” I tease, hoping to make him smile and getting my wish.
“That’s not what I mean. No one is going to believe us. The media will keep saying we’re a couple even if we’re not.”
“True. But why do we care what they think? As long as we know the truth, that’s what matters.”
“Oh my God. Are you even real? How is one person so incredibly put together, and how do I do it too?”
I chuckle, appreciation settling in my chest. “I’m not perfect. I have my struggles. And I’m not that put together. I don’t know if you saw the second part of my game tonight, but I let all the shit get into my head. I just try not to let it control my decisions.”
“See? Perfect!” He winks, and I’m glad we’re able to talk about this openly.
“You are right, though. Even if we decide to only be friends, that’s not how the media will talk about us.
No matter how much we deny it, they’ll think we’re together, think we’re lying to cover it up.
The only way to stop that is to not spend time together.
” I’m really fucking hoping not to lose my friend over this, hoping that’s not what he wants.
“I don’t want to stop hanging out with you.”
“I don’t want to stop hanging out with you either, but I know it’s different for you. I know that going viral comes with a different kind of baggage for you than what I’m used to.”
Anthony nods, not bothering to deny it. “Yes. But this super smart guy I know said he doesn’t let that stuff control his decisions, so I’ll give that a try. I don’t want to lose your friendship. I’m not going to walk away from it because other people can’t mind their own business.”
My body immediately relaxes. I didn’t realize how tightly I’d been wound up until this moment. “Good.” So I guess that’s it, then. We’re friends. It’s better than nothing, but not what I hoped for.
“What about the rest of it?” he asks, surprising me.
“That’s up to you. I told you how I feel. I want to date you. I thought I was dating you. I don’t want to scare you away. It’s not like I was thinking which house we should move into together, marriage, and matching tattoos, but I’m into you. I’d like to see where this can go.”
“Still? I haven’t scared you away?”
“No.” I reach over and dance my fingers over the top of his hand. “You’ve only intrigued me more. I mean, I was spitting some good fucking game.”
“I thought it was friendly flirting! But, believe me, I noticed. I was confused and turned on at the same time.” Anthony turns his hand over, so I’m drawing circles on his palm now. “I’m afraid.”
I hate that he’s been hurt this much, that he’s so wary to risk his heart. It’s not something he shows, not something most people take the time to see, but Anthony’s…lonely. I’ve always sensed it in him, but it feels almost suffocating tonight.
“I won’t hurt you. No matter what happens, you can count on me not to do that. Whatever we do, we can take it slow.”
“Why me?” He doesn’t look at me, studying our hands instead. “You could date anyone. Why me?”
“I don’t want to date anyone. I want to date you. Ant, you’re the only person in a long time who gives me that giddy feeling every time I see you. It’s like…”
“Butterflies. I get them too.”
“Yes.” I smile. “That’s a good sign for me. You’re funny and smart. You’re kind, a good friend, loyal, sweet…sexy.”
He flutters his lashes. “I try.”
It doesn’t take a genius to realize he only replied to the comment about his sex appeal. “I love how passionate you are about dancing. It’s beautiful to watch. Not many people love anything the way you love dancing.”
“In a club. Does it bother you when people talk about that? Because they will. I already had a headline call me a stripper as if there’s something wrong with stripping.”
“People suck. Fuck them. I don’t care about that stuff.”
“What about the team? Hockey? What if—”
“Shh.” I put my finger to his lips. “You’re looking for a whole lot of reasons why we shouldn’t do this. If you don’t want to date me, you can say so. That’s the only question here. Do you want to date me? The rest we’ll figure out.”
He watches me for a moment, green eyes intense. Questioning and a little glassy. I hate that part. I want to know all the things that make him tick, want to help him heal all his sore spots, want him to see how fucking great he is.
After what feels like an eternity, he says, “Can you drop your finger so I can talk?”
With a smile on my lips, I do as he says. “Better?”
“Yes.”
“So…”
“I want to date you.”
Fuck yes. That giddy feeling is back. “You realize you said more words asking me to move my finger than answering the question, right?”
“That’s beside the point,” he argues. “So what does this mean?”
“It means we keep doing what we’ve been doing—we hang out, we go out together, we watch shows and maybe spend time together with our friends.
And if you want something more physical, I want that too, but only if you understand that it’s not the only reason I’m here.
The sex isn’t important to me. You are.”
I swear it looks like he’s short-circuiting and it’s taking his brain a few moments to fire on all cylinders again. How has no one showed Anthony his worth? How does he not see it?
“You’re so fucking swoon. I don’t get how you’re single.”
“Am I, though?”
He scoots closer. “So…dating…taking things slow…dinners and movies, more episodes of our shows, and I get to touch a really hot guy? I like the sound of this dating thing.”
“I like the sound of it too.” I sit back when Anthony turns, climbing onto my lap and straddling me. “Are you using me for sex, Anthony Damiani?”
He laughs, clearly knowing I’m joking. “No…but all your flirting has made me so fucking horny for you…Mr. Let’s Date.”
“I like that name.” I hold his face, tracing his lips with my finger. “I like this mouth too. Can I taste it?”
Anthony gives me a cocky little smirk. “I’ve never had someone ask before. Such a gentleman.”
“Baby…you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” I wink.
“Oh damn. Bringing out the big guns with the wink, but you’re still keeping me waiting.” He pretends to pout, and like always, the simplest thing is fun with him.
“If you insist,” I joke, then, hand on his cheek, I lean in for my first taste of Anthony.
His lips are soft, gentle, as we press our mouths together once, twice, three times.
My tongue snakes out, licking where I’d kissed, asking for entrance into his mouth, which Anthony immediately grants.
I taste the bourbon on his tongue, sweet and spicy.
He pushes closer, nibbles at my lip before I deepen the kiss, sweeping the expanse of his mouth.
Anthony’s arms wrap around me, knocking my hat off, fingers tangling in my hair.
He kisses me like a man starving, like he knows what he’s doing and is not afraid to go for what he wants. And right now, that’s me.
My lips slide over his throat, Anthony dropping his head back for me.
“I taste your sweat,” I tell him, lapping at his perfectly salty skin again. “I fucking love it.”
“Jesus,” he hisses, running a hand up and down my chest, plucking at my nipples, one, then the other.
Our lips are pulled back together again, two magnets that can’t stay away. It’s even hungrier this time, more urgent, like he’s been waiting for this just as much as I have. I palm Anthony’s tight ass, squeeze his muscular globes, and swallow down the pleasure-filled moan he gives me.
I’m fairly certain all the blood in my body has moved to my dick. I’m throbbing for him, throbbing for release, as I turn and flip us so Anthony’s on his back, me looking down at him.
“This will likely be quick. It’s been a long time since I’ve come with anyone other than myself, and my dick is a little excited.”
“Hmm. Let me see him.” Anthony reaches down, wrapping his hand around my hard shaft and giving it a stroke through my track pants.
A hiss pushes past my lips, pinpricks of pleasure igniting beneath my skin.
He shoves my pants and underwear down beneath my ass, my cock falling free.
It’s leaking, my head slick, more precum pearling on the tip.
“I knew you’d have a pretty cock.” This time when he holds it, we’re skin-to-skin, Anthony stroking me before rubbing his thumb in my precum.
“Did you think about it? Because I thought about yours. I can’t tell you how many times I jerked off with you in my head.”
“But you still never tried to kiss me?”
“I’m a gentleman, remember? Only if you think gentlemen are hot, though.”
“I’ve never known one before you, but I don’t have any complaints.”
I seal our lips together again, needing to taste him. How is it that he didn’t know, or dated, any good men before me? I’m going to make it my mission to show Anthony that we exist and how very much I want him.
He strokes me while we kiss. It takes everything inside me not to come right now, but there’s no way I’m finishing without him, without seeing him in all his naked glory. I force my body away from his and tug my shirt off.
Anthony scrambles to do the same with his own, both of us making quick work of our shoes, pants, and underwear. He lays himself out beneath me, all tight, olive skin, lean muscle, and the prettiest fucking cock I’ve ever seen. He has a slight curve, with full, tight balls and dark, trimmed pubes.