Chapter 17
Ryan
I’m surprised I can even see straight as I escort Marty back to his room. I don’t know what the hell has got me so worked up. It’s not like I wanted to kiss Gisele.
I told myself it was because I didn’t want Marty to be uncomfortable.
That had to be the reason I was so defensive about it.
That had to be why, when I saw him leaning in for it, heat fired up in my chest, which flared up even more at the thought of them going at it.
Then when they kissed, it was like a knife.
Not sure why it’s affecting me like this when Marty was doing what I told him to do last weekend.
I finally get him back into his room and close the door.
“What did I do?” he asks, wide-eyed.
Aside from depriving me of that mouth so you could give it to Gisele?
What?
That’s such a fucked-up thought. This was the whole point of making out with him to begin with.
He wears a concerned expression as he says, “I couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Huh?”
As if I wasn’t confused enough. After having had my tongue down this guy’s throat, I can’t imagine why that would even cross his mind.
“Isn’t that why you got me out of there? Because I messed up with Gisele?”
“That wasn’t it.” I run my fingers through my hair, closing my eyes and trying to think this through like I would after fucking up a play.
“So I did good?”
The knife in my chest is twisting.
“What the hell is going on?” I spit out, grabbing at my chest.
“Ry, you okay?” Marty approaches. “Do you need to sit down? You look like you’re having an anxiety attack.”
Despite how thoughtful he’s being, I shoot him an angry look. “How was it?”
“What?”
“The kiss. You enjoyed kissing Gisele, didn’t you?”
“It was…fine.”
The pain intensifies, and I realize what I’m dealing with here. It reminds me of when I get jealous over another guy taking a touchdown I thought would be mine.
“I think I might be jealous,” I admit.
Marty’s sympathetic expression shifts quickly—now he looks pissed, which throws me even more.
“Oh, so you can fuck two girls at once in my bed, but I kiss one and you have to have her too?”
The hell is he on about?
“I should have known better than to agree to this,” he says.
“I have one nice experience with a girl, and that’s too much for you while you were flirting away with Dax…
and I’m sure you guys will be fucking in no time, but no, please, it would be terrible if anyone else in this frat got to have some fun with someone you haven’t already fucked. ”
I’m starting to realize why he’s so worked up, but before I can respond, he starts for the door.
“I swear, you’re even more of a frathole than I thought.” He turns the knob, but I’m already at the door beside him, pressing my hand against it to keep it closed.
“Let me go,” he insists.
“Aren’t I supposed to be the idiot here?”
His brow creases, and before he has a chance to come up with any other ridiculous theories, I rush him, taking that mouth again.
Those lips give me much-needed relief, that knife being pulled from me, allowing me to enjoy this moment.
I shove him back against the door. Despite how annoyed he seemed, he doesn’t resist me, relaxes as I push my tongue up against his, toying with it in a way that helps bring me down from the heat I’d worked up.
He moans into my mouth, and as I taste the peach in the cider he was drinking, I once again feel like myself. I finally pull away.
“I’m so fucking confused,” he mumbles.
“I was jealous of you kissing Gisele because I wanted you kissing me. Make more sense?” But even as I say it, I realize it doesn’t make much sense even to me.
“Is that why you were trying to stop us from kissing?”
“I guess so.”
“What do you mean you guess so?”
“I’ve never had this feeling before. Like, my friends can hook up with whoever they want. Or girls can go hook up with whoever after me, and I’ve never thought twice about it. I don’t get why this is different.”
Marty chuckles, which activates that pain in my chest again.
“What’s funny about that?”
“You must admit, it’s a little funny. You’re saying you were jealous of me, a guy you don’t even like, kissing a girl?”
“I didn’t say I understood it, but it’s what happened. Don’t act like I’m the only one either. You were awfully worked up when you mentioned me chatting with Dax.”
That smug smirk across his lips disappears real fast. “I was worked up because you were being a hypocrite…or at least, that’s what I thought. Now I’m not even sure what to think.”
“That makes two of us. And by the way, I maybe haven’t liked you since you got me into trouble, but lately…you’re not the worst to be around. Still, why would I be jealous over you? No offense.”
“None taken.”
I consider where this could be coming from.
“This is uncharted territory,” he says, “so it’s reasonable to assume we might not understand everything that’s going on. Let’s talk it through.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
Marty steps past me and starts pacing.
“That definitely doesn’t help me relax any.”
“I think best when I’m moving. If you don’t like it, look away.”
I take a breath and turn to face the wall, though it doesn’t take the edge off when I know he’s doing it right behind me, so I turn back to him.
He stops pacing. “What if you were jealous of Gisele?”
“Okay, we established that.”
“No, I mean, you mess around with girls all the time. You know exactly how to please women…whether I like to think about it or not. But what if you’re jealous because, now that you know you like guys, you don’t know how to please them the way she would.”
“I haven’t had any issues getting you off,” I tease.
But it’s a good point. “When I think about football or messing with girls, I know exactly what I’m doing.
I’m a pro, I’ve put in the hours and seen results, but this is all so new, something I’m unfamiliar with…
maybe the thought that I wouldn’t be good at this bothers me, puts me on edge. ”
Marty cringes. “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re getting worked up because you don’t know if you would be as good in bed with me as Gisele?”
“Not you, specifically, but men in general.”
He rolls his eyes. “You know that’s what I meant.”
I take a deep breath, relieved to have some clue about this.
“So…we’re good?” Marty asks.
“Yeah. Sorry for freaking out. I just didn’t know what was going on, and—”
“It’s okay. It was a weird night for me too.”
“No, I shouldn’t have interrupted you and Gisele.
It was a dick move. I was cockblocking, and that’s not the kind of guy I am.
” I approach him and rest my hand on his shoulder.
It’s what I would’ve done with any of the guys if we’d had an issue, but this feels different, especially after what I’ve done with him.
“I guess it’s part of us sorting through this new stuff we’re feeling, and I’m being weird.
I’ll probably be a great lay for a guy.”
He quirks a brow. “There he is again. My cocky, asshole roomie.”
I laugh. “Hey, it’s not like I’m cocky for no reason. You like everything I’ve done with you.”
“And as you keep talking, you make me regret it even more.”
“Shut that pretty mouth of yours.” My gaze lingers, and his lips part, like an instinct, his mouth inviting me to take it once again. But as I move in, he turns away, catching me by surprise.
“Something wrong?”
“Um…so if you realized you’re feeling insecure…”
“I didn’t use that word.”
“Uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t use that word either.”
He huffs. “What word would you use?”
“I’m feeling underprepared.”
He snickers. “Well, if you’re feeling underprepared for being with guys, what do you think you’re gonna do about that?”
I shrug. “Dax seems interested. Maybe he would practice with me.”
The muscles in his shoulder tighten against my hand.
Weird.
“But that’s like going to an NFL player when you’ve never held a football before, right? Don’t you think you should have a little experience first?”
“Like…find someone else to mess around with?” I ask, and as he angles his head, I realize what he’s getting at. “Oh, like you and me?”
“Why not? I don’t know what I’m doing either.”
I laugh. Sneaky Mart.
“Why is that funny?” he asks.
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
“And that is?”
“It’s adorable, actually.”
He scowls. “What is so adorable that you think I’m doing?”
“It’s pretty obvious you’re projecting because you’re worried about hooking up with someone experienced and not knowing what you’re doing, so you’re trying to convince me to do more stuff with you.”
“Whatever,” he says, pulling away and starting toward the bed.
“Where is this attitude coming from? I told you it was adorable.”
Odd that a lot of things he’s done have been adorable to me lately.
He spins back to me. “It’s patronizing. And you know what, maybe you’re not wrong.
I’m not a fucking manwhore like you who can go do whatever with anyone.
And I don’t know that I’ll do much better with men than I do with girls, so while you’re out there figuring it all out, what?
Are you gonna give me lessons on how to flirt with guys too? ”
An idea springs to mind. “That actually makes sense.”
“Fuck off.”
His face is red, his jaw tense in that all-too-familiar way before he turns and starts for the bathroom.
“Whoa, whoa. Hear me out. You gave me an idea.”
When he turns back to me, he’s still got a shade of red in his cheeks. I definitely stirred something in him, and for a change, unintentionally.
“What is it?” he says through his teeth.
“The lessons part. What if, like we’ve been doing with flirting and girls, we helped each other out with other stuff…”
“Like?”
“Fucking, duh.”
His eyes bulge. “Wait, what?”
“We both already know we’re into guys. We can research this stuff together and then experiment like we have with kissing and jerking off.”
“You’re talking about like blowjobs and…” He stops himself.
“Anal is the word you’re looking for.”
“I know what it’s called.”