Chapter 15
Fifteen
Aspen
I lean back against the wall, tapping against my knee with my phone as I debate on how to spend my Friday night.
In my dorm suite.
Which I have all to myself.
For the whole-ass weekend.
Alone.
Fuck, I sound like a pussy right now. And feel like a goddamn puppy sitting by the door, waiting for my owner to come home after being gone all day at work.
Pathetic, if you ask me. And that’s coming from someone who likes dogs.
It’s not that I haven’t lived through Keene being gone during baseball season.
This is completely standard in comparison to last season.
It’s just strange to not have heard from him by this late in the night.
I know the game is over; I watched the damn thing on the local channel that broadcasts all Foltyn athletics.
Normally, if it’s close enough, I just go watch instead. Support my best friend the way he’s always supported me in whatever I decided to set my mind to. And if I can’t go watch, like tonight, he’ll call me and bitch about his mistakes after the game instead of focusing on what he did well.
It happens like clockwork, a constant cycle with Keene the second his back hits the mattress of his hotel room. Ready to lay out all the ways he saw himself as inadequate during the game.
He’s always been like that, the perfectionist he is when it comes to the game. It usually takes me reminding him of the things he did well before he calms down enough to realize that hey, maybe I’m not a trash baseball player like I think I am when I’m not on my game every single day.
I learned so much about baseball to do this for him over the years, even when the sport held little to no interest to me. But I did it anyway, because he’s my best damn friend.
It was worth it in the end, just to get him to stop stressing out about his abilities on the field.
Hell, I didn’t even dare make jokes about performance anxiety to him, knowing it would only earn a death glare and an ass chewing.
While we were in high school especially.
Shit got pretty rocky when scouts were coming around and recruiting for colleges our junior and senior years.
But...it wouldn’t be Keene if he wasn’t too hard on himself.
Tonight is different though. They flew to Arizona this morning for the four-game series over the weekend, and I haven’t heard anything from him yet. Fucking radio silence. Which wouldn’t freak me out under normal circumstances.
But with the shit we’ve been doing together lately, it’s got me feeling a little on edge. Itchy. Like at any second, our friendship is going to completely implode because we’ve touched each other’s dicks and know what the other sounds like when we come.
Not things best friends typically do with each other.
I gnaw on my bottom lip, spinning my phone atop my knee and debating calling him to check in. There’s no harm in that, right? We do this all the time. Regularly. The only thing that’s different is I’d be the one calling him instead of the other way around.
God, I need a cigarette to chill out.
Checking the time, I see he most definitely should have been back to the room by now. It’s been almost two hours since the end of the game and lights out are usually by eleven for the team while they’re on the road.
Why hasn’t he said anything?
They lost tonight, though from my end it seems like he played really well. Again, not a baseball expert, but I know enough by now to know when he plays like trash. And again, not one of those times. Yet I know he’s going to be in his own head unless he talks it out.
Jesus Christ, stop overthinking this. It’s Keene, for fuck’s sake.
Scrolling to his contact, I tamp down the sudden bout of anxiety that hits me and tap the FaceTime icon.
It rings three times, each passing one causing an increase of adrenaline to pump through my veins at an unprecedented rate. It’s stupid to be nervous about calling Keene, but I am. So much that I’m about to end the call when he picks up, but then I’m greeted with an extremely unexpected sight.
Keene.
In the shower.
He actually answered the damn phone completely naked and propped it up in the shower while cleaning himself.
Now...at this point, I’ve seen his cock. I’m well acquainted with that particular part of his body by now. And if that isn’t a damn kicker in itself, I’m surprised to find myself disappointed when I notice it’s out of view, the camera cutting off just below his belly button.
I’m quick to cut that line of thinking before I can do something stupid like ask him to show me his dick, instead choosing another opening.
“Why’re you answering the phone on FaceTime when you’re in the shower?
” I ask, trying to keep my eyes on his face while the water pours down over his head and chest. It doesn’t work, though.
The stream sends trails of water cascading over his pecs and rippling down his abs enticingly before running out of view, and my eyes greedily follow.
My own cock twitches at the thought of tracing their path with my tongue.
What the fuck is happening to me?
“Why’re you FaceTiming me while I’m in the shower?” he replies, smirking slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair before his hand reaches out and grabs a bottle of shampoo.
“I didn’t know you were in the shower, Kee. Don’t you shower at the field anyway? Why are you taking another?”
“I always take a second one after getting back. Ritual thing.”
Damn superstitious baseball players and their rituals.
He glances up at the camera, a shit-eating grin crossing his face as he pours some in his palm. “You miss me already, yeah?”
I roll my eyes, already much more at ease. “Sure, shithead. We can go with that. Not like I haven’t been waiting for you to call and bitch until my ears fall off about how shitty you played tonight.”
His grin widens as he lathers the shampoo in his hair. “I played great. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My brows rise as I settle into my pillows and prop my phone on my knee. “Who are you and what have you done with Keene Waters?”
A soft chuckle floats through the phone as he tips his head back, closing his eyes and letting the water rinse his hair.
My mouth goes dry watching the suds slide down his toned torso, coating his tanned skin with bubbles.
Even through the tiny phone screen, I feel like I’m there with him. Seeing it in real time.
I glance away, clearing my throat, and try to keep my mind off his sinful-as-hell body.
“I actually feel great about how the game went. Which is weird, knowing me. Especially with it being a loss.”
Swallowing roughly, I let out a wry laugh. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re high.”
“High on life, man. Kaleb grabbed some beers and we hung out in his room for a while. Bullshitted and whatnot. Which is why I hadn’t called yet. I just got in.”
My skin prickles at the idea of him spending time with one of his teammates alone in a hotel room. Where somehow, Kaleb was able to keep Keene out of his head when that’s what he relies on me for.
What were they doing in there that allowed Keene to let off enough steam that...?
Images, ones I never want to see or think, flash through my mind.
Kaleb and Keene together. The pinpricks along my skin only grow into a sense of revulsion when I realize.
..it’s jealousy I’m feeling. Again. Which is ridiculous because Keene is my best friend and Kaleb is straighter than an arrow. At least, I think.
I shake my head to dislodge my train of thought, bringing my attention back to my screen. Keene is silent on his end, not paying me any attention as he washes his body with soap. More and more suds cover every inch of him, and I feel my dick getting thicker behind my shorts at the sight.
It’s confusing—the way my body reacts to his. Even through a phone screen. This doesn’t happen to me with any other guys—fuck, it doesn’t happen often with girls—so why is it so different with him?
What is it about Keene Waters that’s different from the rest of the world?
I don’t know, but I sure wanna figure it out. So naturally, I do the only logical thing that comes to my idiotic twenty-year-old mind.
“Don’t you dare?”
He makes a choking sound as his head snaps to the phone, his hand wiping away the water pouring down his face. “You serious? While I’m in the shower? Reyes could come back to the room at any minute?”
I nod and smirk, rolling my tongue across my teeth.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Asshole. Fine. What do you want from me?”
Weighing my options is the smart move, though it’s something I should’ve done before I even brought the game up in the first place.
The dares...they’re just a cover. A way for us to have fun while we explore this with each other. Adding a little bit of friendly competition between us.
Exhibit A being the dare he tossed out at me today, which was really awkward when I had to tamp down a boner before one of my two hundred classmates saw it.
Which is why I’m going for some payback.
“I dare you...to prep yourself for me. Right now.”
His eyes lock on mine in challenge, his nostrils flaring. I swear I can see the water turning to steam as it hits his skin beneath the spray of the shower.
“You want me to touch myself while you watch, Pen?
His tone is playful. Taunting with a touch of defiance. It always is when we get like this, in the middle of a dare.
My smile is wicked. “Damn right I do. I wanna watch as your fingers stretch yourself for me. Making yourself feel so good, Kee.” I lick my lips, feeling his lust through the phone screen. “I wanna see you come apart while you imagine my cock sinking deep inside you.”
His throat works to swallow, and I can see his mind spinning.