Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KELLAN
I’m completely naked when I wake up. Which I realize quickly because I’m in the softest sheets probably ever made.
Miles better than anything my own family could afford growing up.
I run my hands over the smooth fabric, enveloped in warmth and comfort that would make it so easy to close my eyes again and drift back to sleep.
Instead, I blink the brightness away and run my hands over my light stubble, remembering last night.
Wells snaps into my mind, flashes of us in the shower coming into focus.
I’m in his apartment. I fell asleep in his bed.
I remember sitting down for a few minutes to fortify myself before braving the cold and the darkness.
I’d kissed him because I’d wanted him to kiss me. In that controlling, consuming way he’d kissed me on Halloween. I wanted to get lost and swept up in how good it felt to simply let go of everything I usually need to manage in my precariously balanced life.
And he delivered.
We made out in the shower, with me pushed up against the wall. Our bodies grinded together until the bathroom was so thick with steam that it felt like we were in a rainforest. Until I couldn’t breathe. Could barely think.
When he’d slowed, his hungry kisses turning into light nips before they ended as soft brushes against my hot skin, I felt a sort of peace inside of me that I hadn’t known existed.
He’d gestured toward the bedroom, then. I’d wandered into his sanctuary alone, expecting him to follow me in soon.
The moments before I’d fallen asleep had been… nice. There was some kind of soft music playing through speakers I couldn’t see. The room was bathed in a hazy glow. And outside, the snow had been falling steadily, adding to the atmosphere.
I place my hand on the empty side of the bed. Did Wells sleep here, with me?
Now, the sky is a blinding white, snow dotted across the buildings that I can see from the massive glass window separating me from the world outside.
Suddenly, reality crashes through the moment.
“Shit.” I pop up and hunt around for my phone. I’m definitely late for practice.
Laid out on a chair near the bed are my clothes from last night which… he washed… and then folded? He’s actually going to succeed in giving me a complex about how I smell.
But still, I lift the shirt up to my nose and inhale the scent that I recognize on him, a comfort and familiarity in it that I like.
The bedroom door is shut, and I brace myself as I open it and head into the hall. I’m assaulted with the delicious smell of breakfast, and my stomach grumbles loudly. I could make it through practice without eating, but it’s not exactly ideal for me.
I take a deep breath and step from the hallway into the kitchen. Wells is standing with his back to me, cooking something on the stove.
“I see you finally hung my jacket up,” I say when I clock the bulky garment hanging next to his own on the rack affixed near the door.
He turns around and shovels an ungodly amount of scrambled eggs on a plate. My mouth waters, and I hope he doesn’t hear the gurgle my stomach makes again. I’ve been hungry before. This isn’t a big deal.
He points his spatula at the plate. “For you.”
“I’m late to practice.” I still need to find my phone, considering I don’t even know how late yet.
“Downtown is basically an ice rink. Classes are cancelled, so I assume that practice is, too,” he says with a surprisingly teasing smirk before adding, “unless they send around a Zamboni to fetch you.”
I match his smile and sit down in front of the plate, across from him at the bar seating running along the island. “I hope you understand that feeding me is not a good way to get rid of me.”
He shrugs. “I’m making peace with it.”
I’m shoveling a delicious-looking bite into my mouth when I still. “Really?”
His eyes meet mine then. And he shrugs again, like it’s not his goal in life to give me emotional whiplash. “What can I say, I like to keep things interesting.”
“So, you’ve accepted me as a person who you don’t think is a complete asshole?” I’m skeptical, to say the least. Even if I desperately want it to be true.
He makes this little smacking sound with his lips that I should find annoying, but instead it’s endearing. “Jury’s still out. But I am definitely in the ‘tolerating you way better’ stage.”
I laugh. “I guess that’s progress. I do really appreciate breakfast though. I’m hungry as hell.”
“I had a feeling you were more amenable when you were well-fed,” Wells says, raking his eyes across my hoodie-clad chest. Suddenly, I wish I hadn’t put all my clothes back on.
It’s back. The persistent need that roars to life whenever Wells is close. Especially when he’s looking at me the way he is right now.
Unfortunately though, my cock and my stomach are warring for my attention, and the one that hasn’t been tended to for longer is winning out.
I shovel in another bite, already halfway done with my plate. This man really does make a mean scrambled egg. “Why do you need me amenable?” I ask, distracted by the perfect fluffiness on my tongue.
Wells gestures toward the window. “I wasn’t kidding about downtown. We got about six inches of snow overnight that froze over into a solid block of ice. You’re stuck here, at least until it warms up enough so that the plows can get through.”
“Or I can risk a broken leg and brave the outdoors, just so you don’t have to deal with me,” I tease.
I mean… we spent the night together. Maybe we didn’t have full-blown sex, but I don’t think that even Wells is the type of guy to kick someone out post-hookup into the middle of a storm just to protect his precious boundaries.
I can see from Wells’ expression that my joke falls flat. He clears his throat. “You’re welcome to do whatever you want. I was just saying that you don’t need to do something dangerous on my account. I won’t bite.”
“Unless I want you to, right?” God, I cannot keep my mouth shut when it comes to him.
His eyes flash, and I know that he’s thinking about the shower, too. “Are you flirting with me?”
My plate empty and my stomach full, I sit up straighter on my bar stool. I can focus on the important things now. “I usually prefer directness, but it is sort of fun.” And definitely the most fun when it’s Wells.
He grabs my plate and places it in the sink behind him. Turning back around, he says, slightly accusingly, “You are just so weirdly chill for someone who says they’ve never hooked up with a guy before.”
It’s my turn to shrug. This again. “I’m not really sure what you want me to say.
I don’t have a lot of extra time to get bogged down in the details.
” It’s not like I haven’t thought about this, because I have–at least to the degree that I have extra time to think about anything.
Which isn’t much, if I’m being honest. But I just don’t see the point in picking apart something good.
Games need to be won. Rents need to be paid.
Classes need to be passed. But this? The way I feel when I’m with Wells?
It can exist in whatever state it wants to be, and I’m just along for the ride.
“So you have?” Wells clears his throat. “Hooked up with a guy before?”
I shake my head and give him a cheesy smile. “If you count toward the tally, then yes.”
I love the exasperated grumble that he lets out. “Why are you being so obtuse?”
“If you want me to be offended, you should probably use words that I understand,” I say, giving him a blank stare.
“It means–”
I turn my smile up. “I’m just fucking with you.”
He scowls. “And making my point entirely. You just said that you pride yourself on being direct.”
“Maybe I also like to keep things interesting?” I parrot back, our eyes locked intensely on one another.
The electricity sparks between us. So simple.
So inevitable. I lick my lips, missing the taste of his mouth on mine.
Which won’t happen again unless we can reach some sort of common ground.
“But in my defense, I have been very direct with you. I’d argue that you’re the one being obtuse just because you don’t like my answers. ”
Wells scoffs, breaking the intensity of the moment. “Not liking them and not believing them are two different things.”
I stand up and stretch, and I watch as Wells’ focus shifts down to the skin between my waistband and hoodie.
Mutual attraction seems to be about the only common language we share.
“I don’t know how to make you believe me, and honestly, I don’t really think it’s my job to try.
What’s going on between us has nothing to do with anyone else. ”
“Ah… the closeted man’s motto,” he challenges immediately.
My shoulders tense, and I can feel heat flowing through my veins. “What the fuck, Wells? I really don’t understand what you want from me.”
He stalks around the island so that we’re face-to-face now, his green eyes intense. “I want you to be honest with me. Why me? You’re Kellan O’Reilly. The king of Radford University. What are you getting out of this?”
“I am being honest with you. I told you that–this exact moment not-withstanding–I like being around you. That, usually, I like how you make me feel. But you seem so insistent to put me in some kind of box that makes you feel comfortable.” I give him a hard stare.
“Which makes you look like a narrow-minded jackass, if you want real honesty.”
“Oh, so now you’re giving me a lecture about what it means to be gay?” He’s so angry. So… scared. And I don’t know why. He’s the out one for christ's sake!
I throw my hands up. “You want honesty, Wells?”
His Adam's apple bobs forcefully before he spits out, “Yeah, I do.”
I look judgmentally around his beautiful, spacious apartment. He’s just a rich prick, like I first thought. My fault for being surprised by it. And now he wants me to put my life on display to help him understand what’s happening between us.
Well, fine. He’s going to get it. I’m sick of his sanctimonious ass thinking that the world revolves around him.
I step closer, so that we’re almost touching.
“Between practicing for three-to-four hours a day, games, going to class, and working twenty-hours a week at a shitty job that doesn’t let me get nearly enough sleep, I make just enough money to give to my mom so that she and my little brothers don’t lose their apartment.
” Something flashes across Wells’ face that I ignore.
He tries to say something, too, but I cut him off.
“Which I have to do because my step-dad, who’s the biggest piece of shit you’ll ever meet, ran off earlier this year and left my mom holding the bag.
” I’m breathing heavily now, determined to let it all out before Wells can stop me.
“And that this season, my senior year, is my last chance to get noticed by NHL teams in the hopes of getting picked up next year. If I don’t, I’m just destined to be another piece of white trash from South Warwick who’s going to end up boosting cars or working some hourly job that’s never going to pay the bills. ”
Wells places his hand on my heaving sternum. “Kellan, I didn’t–”
“I’m not done,” I growl, intent on ripping my emotions out of my chest and putting them on full display for Wells to face.
“Until this moment, you’d become the thing in my life that was a relief from all of that.
From everything I’m supposed to be and everything I need to manage to keep my life on track.
And what, Wells? You don’t like that you don’t understand me.
You haven’t even tried to understand me.
” I practically spit the words at him, turning on my heel and walking over to the sofa.
I sit down on the obscenely soft leather–no surprise, it is insanely comfortable–and melt into the cushions.
“I’ll be out of here as soon as I can, but feel free to ignore me until then. ”