Chapter 5 #3
“Oh.” He leans towards me. “Do you have more cereal trauma you need to dump on me?”
“Not today.” I laugh, but truthfully, after all of that, I feel pretty raw. “Remind me at some point to tell you why I hate Rice Krispies Treats. Now, for fuck’s sake, tell me something about you.”
He looks out the window as he ponders this.
I get a moment to enjoy the way his nose wrinkles while he thinks.
He’s got a good nose, perfectly centered on his face.
It’s either never been broken or he has one hell of a plastic surgeon.
I’ve seen his mom. It could be the second option, but she is starting to look like a lizard.
He turns to look back at me. “This is a lot of pressure.”
I smile at him as I eat more of my fries. “How so?”
He leans towards me again. “Did you ever have to try out for a team and the kid who went before you completely knocked it out of the park? You just knew at that moment that no matter how well you performed it would never compare to the kid who slapped the perfect one-timer into the net from the top of the circle.”
“Are you telling me my childhood trauma is comparable to one of your miracle goals?”
“Shut up,” he says, laughing. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, that we’re competing over whose life is more fucked up.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “We’re always competing. Don’t act so surprised.”
Connor
Now it’s his turn to narrow his eyes at me. “We don’t need to compete over this,” he says, then with a wink, adds, “You don’t stand a chance, anyway.”
I sit back in my seat and laugh some more.
I’m slightly unnerved by how we both keep ending up in stitches, even after he shared what he shared.
I guess it’s true what they say, laughter is the best medicine.
But deep down, underneath the laughter, I know there’s more.
I want to know it all. And I hate that I want that.
I hate that he’s tapped into this thing about me that I keep hidden.
My attraction to him was so much easier to ignore when we were rivals.
When I didn’t get glimpses of who he is as a person and what makes those deep-brown eyes of his look so filled with the darkest depths of his soul.
Finally, once our laughter dies down and I can take a breath, I tilt my head and look at him.
“Quit stalling,” he says and takes another bite out of his burger. “You’re not getting out of this.”
No. I don’t suppose I am. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks again as I contemplate how to say what’s on the tip of my tongue. That thing that’s been itching for me to voice for ages, but my father has made clear it should remain unspoken.
“We’re waiting.”
“Oh.” I look around the room. “Is there an audience?”
“Yes,” Gavin presses, staring me down. “Out with it.”
I swallow. It feels like my stomach has dropped through the floor. I’ve never said this out loud and Gavin is probably the last person I should be telling. How am I supposed to know if I can trust him?
“Come on, Connor. Fair is fair.”
I can’t take the intensity of his pushing anymore. Finally, I whisper, “I’m gay.”
He lights up like the Luxor and points at me. “I fucking knew it!” he yells and claps his hands together.
My jaw drops and my eyebrows shoot up. “What?”
He shakes his head at me. “I’m never wrong.”
I get my features back in order and fix him with my gaze.
“Never wrong about what?” I ask as my heart rate picks up.
As far as I know, most straight men don’t spend time speculating on these sorts of things.
And there have been a few moments in the past two days that had me wondering about him.
Moments that felt an awful lot like flirting.
He stares back at me. “Who’s gay and who isn’t.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And why would that be of any particular interest to you?”
He shrugs and pops what’s left of his burger into his mouth. “Because I’m always on the hunt for who might enjoy me slamming them against the boards, if you know what I mean.”
My mouth goes dry. Because yes, I know what he means. And yes, I might even have had fantasies about it. “Have you?” I ask.
“Have I what?”
“Slammed anyone in the league against the boards.”
“Yeah.” He laughs. “Everybody.”
“Not like that, asshole. Like you were just implying.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“So there’s no one else like us?”
“There might be.” He shrugs. “I’ve definitely gotten a few vibes here and there, but no one who’s been a definite yes or who has been forward enough about it.”
I roll my eyes, feeling defeated. “So no one who’s as obvious as me.”
“You’re not obvious.”
I don’t believe him.
“Really, Connor. You hide it well. You just can’t hide from me.”
“Great,” I say and slump in my chair. “Don’t tell my father that unless you’re looking for a payday. The only man I’ve ever been with got paid handsomely to keep his mouth shut.”
Gavin’s expression turns hard. His lips press together, and his eyes burn with rage. “Your father is a real fucking piece of work.”
“To be fair, he only paid the man because he was blackmailing me with a tape he made of our one-night stand.”
Gavin growls and shakes his head. “I take it back. You win. This shit is way more fucked up than my cereal trauma.”
There’s a lump in my throat that I try to swallow down as I offer him a sad smile. “That’s only because I can’t claim to have been eating Cap’n Crunch while my father wrote the asshole his check.”
This makes his expression soften slightly and he takes a deep breath. “I’m guessing it’s safe to say that there’s no boyfriend waiting for you in Chicago.”
“Definitely not,” I say with a laugh that brings some lightness back into the room and causes him to relax again.
Even still, his statement causes my heart rate to kick up. Maybe I’m not the only one whose stomach inexplicably drops at the thought of one of us being attached. His phone call is suddenly more intriguing. My lips twist to the side.
He nods his chin at me. “What’s that look for?”
I tilt my head towards my shoulder as I continue to look at him.
Now I have to know. Who was he assuring he wasn’t embarrassed by them?
Is it another man? Does he have a boyfriend that no one knows about that he’s not afraid to claim?
It’s eating at me worse now than it was when I thought he was talking to a woman. “Can I ask you something else?”
“We’ve gone this far. Shoot.”
I rub my hands on my pants. They’ve gotten clammy. “I didn’t mean to listen in earlier, but I couldn’t help it.”
He leans back and crosses his foot over his thigh. “I guess that’s to be expected when we’re living in tight quarters. Not a lot of privacy here.”
“No, there’s not,” I say and take a breath, steadying myself for his answer. He looks at me expectantly. “Was that your boyfriend you were trying to convince to come to Milan?”
He bursts out laughing again. “God, no,” he says. “I was talking to my dad.”
“Oh!” My eyebrows lift and my cheeks grow red again.
He reaches across the table and presses my right cheek with his big, calloused finger. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. You know that, right?”
No, sir. I did not know that.