Chapter 16
Nash
Nash
Penthouse apartment #3
Zamir
How the fuck did we not know we lived in the same building ON THE SAME FUCKING FLOOR?! *mind-blowing emoji
We figured this out yesterday when we were done fighting like children, and he caught up to me as I was walking out of the practice facility.
Nash
I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, but I really am too exhausted to be fighting with you today. Get your ass a blunt or something. You need to chill the fuck out.
Thank fuck the league is starting to chill with testing for weed. We get piss tested once before camp, and that’s it. It helps a lot of the guys with the constant pain we’re all in from playing for years on end.
Zamir
I’m walking over now *eye roll emoji*
I open the door, and my breath hitches; he’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a cropped Marilyn Manson shirt. I’ve seen this asshole naked in the locker rooms, but this is what stirs my cock? Let’s be honest; he stirs my cock no matter what.
I’m not going to make it. Fuck, he’s going to see me ogling him. “Ignore what it looks like in here; I haven’t had time to decorate yet.” I usher Zamir into my practically empty apartment. I moved in here days after my junior year of college ended so I could settle in before training camp. It still didn’t give me a ton of time, and honestly, I have no clue what I want to do with the place.
“I have a guy that did mine if you want his number.”
“Guy?” I didn’t even know there were guy interior designers.
“Check the sexism at the door, big guy. Men can be interior designers, too.” He huffs out a laugh. “You can come to look at my place once we’re done and see how good he is for yourself.”
“I wa—I wasn’t saying guys couldn’t be designers. It just shocked me you had a male designer is all.” I give him a timid smile and turn toward my kitchen, which is off to the right of the door. I’m trying to put as much space between us as I can. This place is sickly open, which doesn’t help my lingering eyes; I can’t help it when it comes to him. The pull I have towards him scares the fuck out of me.
I used to think it was just an obsession I had from always looking up to him since we went to the same college, but I’m starting to think it’s a lot more than that. The coaches at Palm never shut the fuck up about him and the championship team that he played with his junior year. It got old really fast, but I have always admired how he was so open with his sexuality.
I could’ve gone to any team in the league, but of course, I landed myself on the team with Zamir Prifti. Now, getting to be around him through camp and the last couple of practices, I get to really study him and how he carries himself. He keeps to himself for the most part, but with us having to work hand in hand, it lets me get a peek inside that wild mind of his. It’s like he knows exactly how to get under my skin, saying god knows what in his native language. I lunged at him and got a front row seat to some kind of wickedness that took over his whole body yesterday at practice. He had me pinned down faster than I could even blink, and I’m not a damsel in distress myself. My father made sure of that with all kinds of self-defense training, but Zamir was on a different level. It makes me wonder how his home life was. What has to happen to someone for them to be able or have to react like that?
Opening the fridge up, I holler over my shoulder, “You want a beer? I have some bourbon too.”
“I’ll take some bourbon. I’m surprised your young ass even drinks that shit yet.” I won’t tell him my dad used to make me sit with him in the living room and sip it when I was barely sixteen. I can hear my dad saying it now, “Drink it. It’ll put some hair on your chest.” But yeah, I can hang with the best of them now
“I acquired my taste at a young age, you could say.” I pour him a glass. Hopefully, he takes it neat.
Handing over his glass, trying to break the silence, I say, “You ready to watch some film, bestie?”
He’s giving me a questioning look, but not one that scares me, and asks, “Why have you been acting the way you have towards me? You are so happy around everyone else, but with me, you act like you can’t stand to be within ten feet of me.” I can hear the hurt in his voice, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Not that everyone is super close to him, but he’s at least civil with everyone, except me, and I brought that on myself.
I don’t know if I should be completely honest with him. I really haven’t even admitted any of this to myself yet, and with him being in my face daily, happily walking around, content with himself and his sexuality, it made me resent him even more. But if anyone can guide me through what I’ve been feeling lately, I think it would be him. “You make me feel things I was raised to think I would be banished to the depths of hell for.” I wring my hands together in front of me. “I think I’m attracted to men.” I blurt it out like my ass is on fire, and he’s just smiling at me. I wanted to add, “or maybe it’s just you,” but I’ll keep it in for now.
1“I knew it!” That’s not what I was expecting, but okay? “But why has that made you act the way you have with me?” He looks genuinely confused.
“I’m jealous of you,” I say, barely above a whisper.
His eyebrows knit together. “Why would you be jealous of me, Nash? You’re young, drafted number one, getting pussy thrown at you, I’m sure.”
He wants me to say it, and I will, but I can’t look him in the eyes. “I’m attracted to you, Zamir.” I breathe out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, looking down at the floor, but continuing to say, “You live so beautifully, not caring what people say about you or your sexuality.” He grabs hold of my chin.
“Don’t hide from me, Nash, and I don’t want you acting ashamed that you find me attractive. I only want to know why you wouldn’t feed into it with me.” He’s smiling at me now. “I’ve been unashamedly flirting with you since you’ve gotten here, and you’ve shut me down every time. I was convinced you were a homophobic piece of shit from Texas.” I flinch at that last part because that’s exactly what my father is and what he tried to feed my brain from the youngest age possible.
“You’ve been flirting with me?” I don’t recall anything that seemed like flirting the past couple of weeks, but what do I know?
“Are you kidding? Look at you.” He steps away from me, running his eyes up and down my body. I shift in place under the heat of his gaze. Fuck, I can feel my cock stiffening.
“Zamir, we’re supposed to be watching film.” I try to change the subject, but he won’t have it.
“Too bad we’re on the same page now, Djale I Bukur. No more fighting this.” He’s motioning his hands between us. “You’ve got a new road roomie, though, and we’re going to have lots of fun this season.” He’s rubbing his hands together like he’s scheming up the next big move.
We head over to my huge cloud couch, and I sit down in the corner. Zamir may as well sit on top of me. He’s so close, but I can’t say I’m mad about it.
I can’t stop thinking about giving into these desires that have been coursing through me for so long. I don’t feel like this with any other guys, but it’s like our souls have a pull to one another.
Maybe we can just be teammates and friends. You can find your friends attractive, right?
He turns to me, putting his game face on. “Back to business. We really do need to watch some film. No matter how we’re getting along now, we’ve still been sucking dick as a pair on the field.” My mind immediately goes to his cock in my mouth, and I have to bite back a groan. Coach is serious about us getting along, but maybe he’ll get off our backs once he sees us being civil.
“Fine. I’ll turn on the game when you played the Devils last season.” We play them as our season opener in two weeks at home. I make a mental note to text Ellie and see if she wants to come watch me since she loves football so much. I wonder if his family is supportive of him playing. “Is any of your family coming to the opener?”
He huffs out, “No, they wish I’d get a compound fracture and never be able to play again.”
“Shit, my dads bad, but that’s just graphic.” A distant look crosses his face, but he snaps out of it like he remembers where he is, turning to the TV.
I’ve finally got the game on, but we’re both in our own world. I finish my beer off and turn towards Z to see if he needs a refill. He takes the last swig of his bourbon, and I watch his neck and bulging adam’s apple move up and down as he swallows. I go to grab the now empty cup from his hand, grazing his finger, and there it is, the smallest bit of contact, lighting my ass on fire.
I lock into his emerald eyes and can’t look away this time. We’re both still holding the damn glass, almost fighting for power. I hate to tell him, but I don’t give up control easily. The other night with Ellie was the first time I’ve ever taken the back seat in any sexual encounter, but I can’t say I hated it either. Older women might be my thing. He might have to take charge since I’ve never fooled around with guys before.
He goes to stand, and so do I; we’re face to face now. I’m an inch or two taller than him, but he doesn’t let that intimidate him. His slutty little waist peaking out of that crop top is making my knees wobble. His whole outfit should be outlawed. He’s looking into my eyes but at the same time dipping those pools of green down to roam over my lips and back up again. Just to tempt him even more, I drag my tongue out to wet my bottom lip, and on the way back in, pull my lip between my teeth. A low groan comes from him, and he grits out, “You wanna play, Djale I Bukur?”
“I feel like we shouldn’t be doing this,” I blurt out.
“I love the taboo; tell me more.” He runs his nose up and down my neck, inhaling, and I catch myself tilting my head back to give him better access. Fuck, I want him so bad, but what if this goes south. What if I hate being with a man? Your cock’s rock hard… I don’t think that’s a worry at this point.
Before I can even say yes, he’s grabbing the front of my neck with his free hand and smashing his lips to mine. He gives a gentle squeeze, almost like he’s testing me, and an unexpected whimper comes out of me. “You like being choked like a little slut?”
The feel of his stubble rubbing mine shouldn’t feel this good. I’m running my free hand up the tight muscles of his chest, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and into the nape of his hair to pull him closer to me. This feels so wrong, but I don’t think my dick can get any harder.
Nothing could make me believe at this moment that I’m not into Zamir. Not even my dumbass dad made me believe that attraction can only be towards the opposite gender.
I pull away from him slightly just to appreciate those now swollen lips, and I can tell he’s trying to gauge if I’m going to flip out or not. His hand is still on my throat, but not squeezing, sadly. I don’t freak out, but I grip the glass again, harder this time to pull it out of his hand and walk over to the kitchen.
“We can’t get feelings involved.” I’ve never seen him look hurt, but I think I just hit him where it does. “I just don’t think I can with a teammate, you know?”
“Yeah, for the team, right.” He sounds distant. “Have you messed around with guys before?”
“I kissed a guy friend in college, drunk on a dare once.” That’s when I knew I was bi, but I never said anything to anyone; I was denying it even to myself then.
“Fuck! I don’t do this, Nash. I don’t entertain baby bi’s. If you’ve even come to terms with it. I’ll support you either way, but be upfront with me. I don’t want to get hurt.” He’s acting like I’m down on one knee asking for marriage? I just told him I’m attracted to him and maybe want to explore these curiosities.
“Just help me explore. Nothing else. No feelings, just fun.” Sadness is taking over him. “Why do you look like I just ran over your chihuahua?”
He bursts out laughing. He’s bent over his legs, gasping for air, howling. “Why a fucking chihuahua? You could’ve just said dog or grandma.” He’s laughing between his words. “You’re fucking funny, man.”
I answer him honestly, “Because everyone would expect you would have some big bad dog, like a Doberman or Pit, with all your tattoos and bad boy attitude. But in all reality, you have your sixteen-year-old family chihuahua that has no teeth and bites everything within a ten-foot radius.” He’s laughing so hard now he’s not even making a noise, tears running down his face. He has his hand up in front of my face, telling me he can’t take anymore.
Finally catching his breath, he rushes out, “How did you know we had a chihuahua? I had to leave Jaws back home since we couldn’t have pets in college. And they hold their own for real. You see a chihuahua, and you’re running.”
“I fucking knew it!” Now I’m the one cackling. I figured we would get along. I just had to get over myself enough to give him the time of day.
I’m in my thoughts as I get us more to drink. My dad is the old white man you absolutely grow to hate. Homophobic, bible-thumping, chief of police in El Paso, Texas. His only saving grace was my mother, Abigail. She passed away my senior year of high school, and we still don’t know what from. I think that makes it even harder not knowing what the cause was.
She was a lot more accepting than my dad had ever thought of being. He really went off the deep end after she passed. I felt so bad leaving my sister, Willow, behind when I left for college, but I had no choice. I had to get away from his psychotic ass.
That kiss was so much better than my drunken dare kiss, and from the way Zamir is stalking up to me in my kitchen, I’d say he wants to do it again.
1.OUT THE ROOF - Chase Atlantic