Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Idon’t know why, but I end up at his soccer game the next night.
It’s a home game right on our college campus, so I tell myself that I’m just here to support the team, that I’m just showing a bit of school spirit.
But the reality is, I came alone and I’m wearing a dark sweatshirt, the hood covering my head like some kind of Peeping Tom looking in a window.
And that’s exactly what I do. I watch him.
I tell myself not to, but my eyes are glued to the way he moves across the field, the way he passes the ball to a teammate, the way he smashes it into the goal.
He leads his team with impressive focus, and it’s clear, even from here, that he runs the show.
They all look up to him. He’s the captain for a reason.
Do my guys look at me this way?
I don’t know.
I run a hand through my hair, accidentally pushing my hood back, and I quickly tug it back down.
I want to be as inconspicuous as possible, especially as my eyes rove over his body.
The way his body fills out the jersey, the way the muscles in his legs bunch as he runs down the field, those knee socks hugging his calves.
I hate that he looks good as he does it.
And once again, he drives the ball into the goal. The stands erupt in cheers, but I stay seated. I fist my hands on my thighs to make sure I don’t get to my feet.
I don’t want to celebrate his accomplishments. I really don’t, even though the way he commands the field is thrilling.
Has he ever come to my rugby games to watch me play?
The thought stirs something inside me as my eyes drift back to him.
It’s halftime, and I watch him drink water from his bottle, his throat bobbing as he swallows, sweat dripping down his temples.
His hair is wet, his cheeks flushed. He’s grinning, slapping the hands of his teammates, his eyes flickering around the stands, like he’s looking for someone.
Like he’s expecting someone.
Maybe someone he’s interested in? Another girl?
I lean further back, blending into the crowd.
I don’t want him to see me here. It will give him ideas, make him think that I’m into him or something.
And I don’t want him to think that. This is just me attending a game in team support. I have school pride. It’s nothing more.
Suddenly, I see his gaze skim over the row I’m in before those dark eyes flash back to me. The weight of his stare settles on me roughly, and my cock twitches in my pants.
Fuck. Fuck!
There are hundreds of people here. There’s no way he can see me or sense that I’m here. That would be impossible.
Yet, his gaze lingers, hot and heavy.
He’s definitely caught me.
I shrink back in my seat, my eyes not leaving his. His mouth quirks, and he winks at me, blowing me a kiss.
He leans his head back and laughs, then turns around and runs back onto the field.
I squirm and fidget, hating the attention. People are whispering, looking around to see who that was for. Rationally, I realize no one could know it was directed at me, but still. That fucker. He did it anyway.
I blame the loss of my lucky coin for this.
If I had my coin, then I wouldn’t be in this situation, and his gaze would have never found me.
I need my coin back.
I’m so fucked.
I wait until the crowd is focused on the game once more and then stand up and stride up the stairs and out of the stadium, pulling my hood off my head and gulping down long breaths.
Shit. I should never have come here tonight. I should have just stayed home.
But I came, and he saw me.
What the fuck do I do now?
I ignore him, that’s what. I’ll pretend he doesn’t exist.
I only go to the gym when I know Colton isn’t there. Don’t ask me how I figured out his schedule, or you may think I’m a stalker. But I did it for my sanity. It’s how I’m going to make it through the rest of this semester without him touching me again.
I don’t want him to touch me.
I never want it to happen again.
But my string of bad luck only continues because a week of successful avoidance ends when I see him unexpectedly at ten in the evening in the gym showers. I don’t know why he’s here so late.
But he is. And he’s completely naked, soap running down his tan, tattooed skin. His muscles flex as he rubs shampoo through his hair.
And these showers aren’t sectioned off for privacy. Of course they’re not. We’re men. We like to engage in homoerotic behavior like communal showers and call it straight. So, this is just one big tiled room with several showerheads on each wall.
And not a curtain in sight.
So, I can see it all.
And yes, I look. I can’t help it. He’s right there.
Thankfully, his eyes are closed, so I just stand in silence for a moment, my gaze roaming his chest and thighs before settling on his dick. It’s thick and long, hanging between his legs.
Goddamnit.
He has it all, doesn’t he?
Those eyes snap open, and I move into action, grabbing my bag and chucking it onto the bench behind me. It misses and falls to the floor. A muttered curse falls from my lips as I bend down to pick it up, setting it back where it belongs. But I know I’m blushing, and I know he can see it.
Fucker.
Without another thought, I pull my tank top off and peel my shorts down my thighs. I’m facing away from him, but when I turn around, I see that he’s watching me.
“You going to join me?” he asks, biting his wet bottom lip.
“Fuck off,” I murmur, but feel my cheeks heating.
Of course I’m going to join him. I’m not going to run away from this. I refuse to be scared off by his naked form, wet and slick under the spray of water.
This is my gym, too.
Thankfully, we’re the only ones here, so no one can see my blush but him. There are a few guys in the gym still working out, but no one is in the locker room except us. There’s no one here to witness what is probably going to happen to my dick.
As I step inside, I walk to the farthest shower from him. I can feel his eyes on me, a slick slide as he takes everything in. What does he think about my body? Does he like what he sees? I shake that thought away. No way am I going there. I don’t care.
I flick the shower on, cold water hitting me. A curse slips from my lips, and the bar of soap that was sitting limply in my hand falls to the floor. I can hear his chuckle echo around me.
He thinks this is funny.
Well, fuck him.
My skin burns as I bend down to retrieve it, knowing he’s still checking me out. It’s not enough that he’s managed to put me on my ass a few times, made me cum my brains out, but to watch me completely naked while I scrub myself clean is a new level of humiliation.
It’s a new level of vulnerability.
Shit, my dick is getting hard.
I turn around so he can’t see the effect he’s having on me, and I wash quickly, my skin prickling as his gaze never leaves me.
Thankfully, it only lasts a few scorching minutes before I hear his shower turn off and the pad of his footsteps as he leaves. Thank fuck for that.
I turn my gaze over my shoulder and see that I’m the only one in the showers. Maybe he’s left. Maybe I can finish up in peace.
But it doesn’t quite work out that way because as I’m grabbing my towel and drying myself off, I see him lounging back against one of the benches, a thin towel wrapped around his waist, slides on his feet. His gaze flicks up from the phone in his hand, and he smirks.
Shit, why the fuck is he still here?
I don’t ask and don’t say anything, just grab my bag of clothes and make my way around the corner and into the far recesses of the locker room.
No one ever comes back this far, so if he does, I know he’s actively seeking me out.
And if he does that, I want to make it clear that he’s coming to me, not the other way around.
As soon as I drop my bag, I inhale roughly, scrubbing a hand down my damp face. Why the fuck was he just lounging there in a towel? He should have left by now, should have fucked right off.
And who was he texting?
Was he telling someone about me? About us? What we did?
I don’t get a chance to think too much about it because a moment later, he’s in my space.
“You hiding from me?” he asks, his voice low.
“No. Just wanted some privacy from your pervy eyes. Why the fuck are you following me?”
His lips twitch, and he steps toward me. I step back, but he just progresses until I’m backed into the lockers, the cool metal against my bare back, my heart rate kicking up.
“I’m not following you, and I’m not a perv. I just wanted to see the dick I touched a few times up close.”
“Fuck off.”
“You don’t have to be so rude. You can tell me to leave, and I’ll go.”
I don’t say anything, and he chuckles, his fingertip sliding under my towel, the touch making me shudder slightly. Shit, I need to tell him to leave, but I’m unable to do that. The words are stuck in my throat.
They’re just fucking stuck.
He flicks his wrist, and the towel slips down my legs and puddles at my feet. An exhale leaves me as he stares down at my dick, which is now hard and standing at attention.
Damn thing. Damn guy.
I don’t know why I’m having this reaction to him.
I hate him!
“Very nice,” he mutters and then meets my stare. I swallow, my throat clicking, nerves settling in about what’s going to happen. About what I’ll let him do to me.
“I’m not gay,” is all I manage to murmur.
“Neither am I, but I can admire a nice dick, can’t I?”
“Fuck off. You’re making fun of me.”
“Am I?” He runs a finger up my thigh, and I bite my bottom lip to keep the whine inside. I will not moan. I’m already as fucked as I can get.
“Yeah, you are. I know guys like you. You’re just…you’re just showing off.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re bigger than me.”
He huffs a laugh and then cocks his head. “So you were looking at my dick.”
“Fuck no, I wasn’t.”
“You were, but that’s okay. I don’t mind your eyes on me. For some reason, it doesn’t bother me at all.”