Chapter Nineteen
Hunter
I should return the favor after Lucas’s incredible blowjob—I can’t remember the last time I came twice in one night—but the past week comes crashing down on me, all the emotions of the first time with him, walking out, being miserable all week…
missing him. That’s what I was doing, wasn’t it?
I’d been missing Lucas. Then the game, realizing I wanted to talk to him about the game, coming here, deciding to keep doing whatever the fuck we’re doing.
It’s a lot, and I’m not sure how to process it.
“I’m tired,” I admit.
Does he want me to go home? Do I want to go home? Everything feels upside down and confusing with Lucas, while at the same time, it’s so easy.
“Go to sleep, then,” Lucas says, as if that’s obvious.
“I could go if you want.”
“Stay, Hunt.” He peels himself from me, but I wrap my arms and legs around him like a barnacle.
“Don’t go.”
“Just taking a quick piss and turning out the lights. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” I let him up, wishing I didn’t have to.
He’ll be gone for only a couple of minutes.
It’s not normal to feel this clingy, is it?
But then, he’s not a random guy I’m fucking.
This is…Lucas and me. How is there a Lucas and me?
Before the guilt can swoop in, I shut that thought down.
I refuse to focus on that anymore. I won’t let myself.
I watch him walk into the bathroom, his tight ass on display. I want to ask him about his tattoos. Do they mean anything? I don’t have any myself and have no idea what I would even get. I’d probably look ridiculous with them, like I’m trying to be someone or something I’m not, but they fit Lucas.
He finishes in the bathroom, then turns out the lights and comes to bed. The lights from the city shine through his windows, so I can still see his body, and God, he really is fucking beautiful. Slender, that sexy V at his hips, all that ink…
He pulls the blankets over us. “What time do you have to be at practice in the morning?”
Shit. I would have gone straight to sleep without setting an alarm. That’s not like me at all. “Ten.”
“I’ll make sure you’re up.” He grabs his phone and sets the alarm. “Recovery day tomorrow, right?”
I smile at how he knows the schedule, even though he swears football isn’t his thing. “Yeah. Film review. I’ll probably see the trainer and get a massage, and we might do some light lifting.”
Lucas nods, lying beside me but not touching me. Without letting myself contemplate it, I grab him, pulling him to me. I roll to face away from him, wanting to be held, and he immediately understands, molding our bodies together, wrapping an arm around me.
“Good night, Lucas.”
“Night, Hunter.”
And more easily than I have in a long time, I drift off to sleep.
*
The morning isn’t awkward. We shower together, and I give Lucas a handjob since I didn’t make him come a second time the night before. Then I put on the clothes from last night.
“I’ll call you later.” Am I supposed to call him? Are we going to randomly hook up or hang out, or is this something more? Lucas isn’t my boyfriend, maybe I won’t ever have another boyfriend again, but it’s not a casual fuck either.
“Okay. I have a shoot today, so I might be late tonight. Depends on how it goes.”
“Sure.” I shove my hands into my pockets. I’m not used to this. I had a best friend who became my boyfriend. Then it was only him until he died, and from there it’s just been people who wanted to fuck. “You can come over to my place after if you want. If you’re busy, you don’t have to, but—”
“You make me come my brains out. If you invite me, I’m coming,” Lucas says, making me chuckle.
“Using me for my mad orgasm skills,” I tease.
“Obviously.” Lucas smirks, and I can’t help but step closer, wanting to taste it.
He lets me but seems surprised at first, stiffening before relaxing and kissing me back.
“Bring a bag,” I tell him.
“Yes, sir.”
Just like every other time, I hope no one recognizes me as I leave Lucas’s place. My house is more private, and we won’t have to worry about that. Plus, I want him in my space, want to be with him there, surrounded by my things, so he leaves behind good feelings there too.
I text Lucas my address. I moved after Ellis died, hadn’t been able to be in the space we shared. Too many memories. Laughs, touches, arguments, the place where I delivered my betrayal…on the day he died.
I get to the practice facility, and Coach has us do a light workout before going over film and what we need to do to win on Sunday.
When that’s done, I take an ice bath, get a massage, and after a quick trip to the trainer, I head home.
It’s after five, and traffic is a bitch.
I have no idea when to expect Lucas. I shower and change, throw on a pair of lounge pants, then turn on some music.
I have salmon in the fridge, so I get that ready to cook, planning rice and broccoli with it.
My phone rings on the counter, and I smile, wondering if it’s Lucas telling me he’s on his way. When I see it’s Desmond, I’m both disappointed and glad. I haven’t talked to my best friend in a few weeks.
Desmond and I met in college, played together for all four years, before getting drafted to different teams. Des was the first person to really have my back on the team, making sure everyone knew he wasn’t down for any homophobia bullshit.
My game has always spoken for me, but back in college, before it meant as much as it does now, Des had spoken for me, and I’ll always be grateful for his friendship. He knows me better than anyone.
“Hey, man,” I say, hearing the smile in my voice.
“What’s up, brother?” he says with that thick, husky voice.
“Not much. Just making dinner.”
“You played your ass off last night. Three and O so far. You gonna keep that record until you play us and we beat you?”
“You can fuck off with that shit. I love beating you at home.” Des plays for KC and Coach Blake. They don’t have the best relationship. Des hates him, but he does his best to pretend otherwise.
“Nah, man. That shit ain’t happening on my watch,” he jokes back, the two of us busting each other’s balls, before he says, “You sound different.”
I do? It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, but what comes out is, “Shut the fuck up.”
“For real. You sound good, man. Lighter. You’re playing like it too. What’s going on with you?”
Lucas. I’m spending time with Lucas, and he makes me feel…free.
Of course, I can’t say that. No one can know about Lucas and me, not even Des, even though I trust him. I’d feel like too much of a piece of shit if he knew. At least if this is just between Lucas and me, I can pretend I’m not doing the absolute worst thing.
“Nothing. I just…fuck, Des. I’m tired of being tired. I don’t have the energy for it anymore. Maybe that’ll change tomorrow or next week, but right now, I just want to be me.” Whoever the fuck that is.
“Good. That’s real good. You deserve it. I know you don’t think you do because—”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” I cut him off.
Desmond chuckles. “I feel you. I won’t push it, but whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it, all right? I’m not playing. I miss you being happy.”
I sigh, leaning against the counter, reminding myself how lucky I am to have him in my life—Des and Lucas both. “I miss being happy too.” As wild as it sounds, considering the life I’ve been given, I haven’t felt lucky in a long time.
We shoot the shit for a while longer, me getting distracted from cooking dinner before the doorbell rings. A smile pulls at my lips. “I gotta go, Des.”
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that doorbell.”
“I gotta go,” I say again.
“I’m happy for you, brother.” The sincerity in his voice settles something inside me, but still, I feel the need to be honest.
“It’s not what you think.” How can it be?
Not with the history between us. Even if that wasn’t there or I wanted to give it a try, I doubt Lucas would.
He’s not the relationship type, and despite my behavior the past couple of years, I always have been.
That aside, all it would do is ruin his relationship with his family even more.
I couldn’t handle being the one responsible.
“I hope it is. You deserve it. I wish you’d see that.”
I don’t know how to change that and doubt I ever will. “Thanks. Talk to you soon, man.”
“Talk to you soon.”
I end the call and open the door to see Lucas there, an overnight bag over his shoulder. He’s wearing loose-fitting jeans and a white T-shirt, his signature rings and necklace in place.
“Hey, Lucas.”
“Hey.” His blond hair is hanging over his forehead, his expression somehow both tired and mischievous. “You gonna invite me in? You’re eating me alive with your eyes. You want to fuck me again, don’t you?”
I grin, zero percent surprised at anything he said. It’s so Lucas—playful and a little cocky, not letting me pretend to be anything other than what I am, which is admiring the sexy man in front of me.
“Should we do it right here?” He grabs the hem of his shirt, pretending to pull it over his head. My house is back from the road, my porch secluded, so I feel safe doing this here with him.
“Shut the fuck up and get inside.” I grab his hand and tug him in, closing and locking the door behind him.
Lucas drops his bag right there, not bothering to ask where he should put it or trying to scoot it out of the way. Maybe that should be annoying, but it’s not. Somehow, it’s endearing.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I admit, not bothering to even try to keep the words inside. Not anymore.
He startles like he didn’t expect that, his pupils flaring. “I’m glad I’m here too, Hunt.”