Chapter 7 #4
For a second, he wanted to hesitate on the threshold, but he told himself he hadn’t come in here to stand a dozen feet away from where Lane was lounging against the headboard, so he walked right over to the foot of the bed.
Lane looked up from what he was looking at on his iPad.
“What’s up?” he asked.
It was terrifying, but it shouldn’t be. Not to ask for what he wanted. Not to show Lane what he wanted.
“I forgot something,” Trevor said, and firmly telling himself that Lane wouldn’t freak out and wouldn’t kick him out, put a knee up on the bed, and a second later, was leaning over Lane, brushing a kiss over his mouth.
He kept it sweet and tender, before finally pulling back.
Trevor’s heart was thumping hard, so loud he was sure that Lane could hear it.
But actually, maybe he couldn’t, because there was a look of total and utter shock on Lane’s face.
Not a bad shock, but a shock nonetheless.
And okay, maybe that was fair because Trevor was a little shocked he’d wanted to do it, too.
“Was that . . . was that okay?” Trevor hated how he stumbled over the question.
Lane swallowed hard. Patted the spot next to him on the bed, and when Trevor didn’t immediately take it, looped an arm around Trevor’s waist and tugged him right down.
“Yeah,” Lane said.
Trevor waited for him to elaborate but he didn’t. Was this an invitation to stay? An invitation to spend the night in Lane’s bed? An invitation to kiss him whenever Trevor wanted to?
But instead of saying anything, Lane just leaned over and let his mouth brush his shoulder. Once and then twice.
To his own surprise, Trevor found himself settling against Lane’s warm side. Against his bigger body. It felt good. Right.
A few minutes later, Lane murmured to him, “Is this . . .” as he picked up his iPad.
“Sure,” Trevor said, expecting Lane to be watching some stupid reality TV show or maybe a sitcom.
But instead when Lane unlocked it, it was film again, but not from last week’s game, but a game they hadn’t played yet. One of the teams was one of the two possible opponents the Thunder would face after their first bye week.
Trevor watched, fascinated, as Lane watched each play multiple times, zooming in and out and making notations on the screen with a stylus. It was clear with how comfortable he was with the whole process that this was something he did all the time.
It wasn’t quite as nerve-racking to ask as it had been to come kiss Lane good night, but then that had turned out pretty good, hadn’t it? That realization gave Trevor the last little boost of confidence to ask, “Do you do this all the time?”
Lane glanced over at him. “Um. Yeah?” He hesitated. “Sometimes.”
But Trevor had a feeling that the first answer had been more accurate than the second.
“You share any of this with Aidan or Coach Zane?” Trevor asked, though he already knew the answer because Lane had been so defensive about it the first time. He just didn’t know why.
Why do all this analysis and work and then keep it to himself? Lane wasn’t a selfish player or teammate, not at all.
“Before you get started, just . . . don’t,” Lane said, but he didn’t sound upset, particularly. More worried than anything else. Like he could already tell that Trevor was going to want to dig into this like a dog with a bone and refuse to let it go.
Well, he was right about that.
“Why not?”
Lane rolled his eyes and reached over, ruffling his hair again. But this time his hand just didn’t leave. Stayed, instead, sifting back and forth through the strands in an instinctive and reassuring motion that made Trevor feel warm all over.
Liked, which was kind of a revelation, because Trevor wasn’t sure he’d have said that before this moment, Lane actually did like him.
“Because you’re going to want it to be a whole thing, a big thing, and it doesn’t need to be. It’s just something I like doing.”
God, that was such bullshit. Sure, he probably did like doing it, but that didn’t mean Lane’s little hobby couldn’t be something the whole team could benefit from.
“Yeah, except you forget I’m a football player too—”
“I’ve never forgotten that,” Lane said, with a deep rumble.
“Okay, I’m just saying, I watch film too. I’ve been watching it for years.”
“Not well,” Lane interrupted.
Trevor shot him a hot glare, and Lane grinned. “Stop interrupting me.”
“Then stop looking so cute and pissed off when I do it,” Lane retorted fondly.
Trevor didn’t know what to even say to that. He tried to regroup. “I mean, I know what this is, and how hard it is to do well, and that it’s not exactly in your job description.”
“If I want to be good, it is.”
“Okay, but why not share this with Aidan? Or Zane? Or Mo? Or any of the other coaches?”
Lane just shrugged.
“That’s not an answer,” Trevor said.
“If I knew you’d be this into interrogation, I wouldn’t have invited you to stay,” Lane grumbled, but Trevor was beginning to see things much more clearly, and he was pretty sure that was a total fucking lie.
“Sure,” Trevor said.
Lane made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Are you done?” he asked, but when Trevor looked over at him, he was still gazing back with just as much affection as before.
“Yeah,” Trevor said. “I’ll . . . be right back?”
Lane raised an eyebrow.
If Lane was inviting him to do what Trevor thought he was inviting him to do, then he was going to just take it. Lane had told him to, hadn’t he?
“I’ve got to brush my teeth. Change into my pajamas. Grab my Kindle.”
Lane relaxed. “Alright,” he said.
Trevor had begun to drift a little, as he’d lain in bed next to Lane before, but now as he stood and headed to his room to get ready for bed, his heartbeat was racing.
Lane hadn’t only not argued or stopped him, he’d just let Trevor.
It made Trevor want to push, a little, to see where the limits were.
What wouldn’t Lane let him do?
On one hand, Trevor thought as he brushed his teeth, he wanted to know. He wanted to see the whole field of play laid out before him, clear and well-lit.
On the other hand, it was exhilarating to discover each new and different section for himself. Areas he’d never imagined were even there, suddenly available to him. Areas he realized he was welcome in.
Maybe it was okay to just let the latter happen.
Take Lane at absolutely his word, not just assume that he meant sexual exploration, and take everything he wanted.
When he returned to the bedroom, he had his Kindle and his phone charger, which he plugged in on the other side of Lane’s bed, on the table that was clearly unoccupied, because all it had was a lamp.
Trevor put his phone onto charge, picked up his Kindle, and settled back into the spot he’d left.
For a second, he felt Lane tense against him as he cuddled up close. But then he relaxed.
Trevor opened the book he was in the middle of and smiled to himself as Lane leaned over and pressed another kiss, in the exact same spot, onto his shoulder.