Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Zeke
To nobody’s surprise, Dean Hutchins emailed a reminder to all the fraternities about being responsible with advertising non-school-sanctioned events.
And to Charles’s complete surprise, he followed up with a private email to both Sigmas and Kappas only that congratulated us on such an innovative and community-focused fundraiser.
Being slated for the Olympics and placing in the Pan Pacific Championships has its benefits. Besides, you know, the Olympics. I’ve always been on Dean Hutchins’s good side, which will be a huge help if these dumbass rumors go south.
The thing that really pisses me off, though, is that the rumors are things that actually happen at other colleges.
Hazing is dangerous, alcohol poisoning kills, and the things that happen to sorority sisters at parties …
I shudder. Straight up lying about this stuff makes it worse for the people who come through with legitimate complaints.
And none of the complaints against us so far are legitimate.
There’s a reason no names have been mentioned.
With one hand tucked behind my head, I push it from my mind and type out my next message.
Me:
What’s your biggest fantasy?
After the other night, Charles and I have been texting back and forth a ridiculous amount.
He was actually fun to hang out with, which isn’t something I ever thought I’d think of Charles.
Fun to trade orgasms with, yes. Fun to have his mouth wrapped around my cock, well, obviously, though the bar isn’t high on either of those things.
Fun to just … have fun with. Yeah, that isn’t something I was prepared for.
Charles:
I’m supposed to write something sexy here, right?
Me:
That’s what I was hoping for, but now you have me interested. Give me the slutty answer and then the real one
Charles:
The slutty one, huh? I’m not sure I want you having that kind of ammunition
Me:
I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours
Charles:
Deal. But you go first
Me:
Siiiigh. What you can suck my cock like a champ, but get all shy talking about sex?
Charles:
… I hate that I had a reaction to that
Me:
Oh reeeeally? Now you have three things to tell me
Charles:
You’re pushing your luck
Me:
And you’re not answering any of my questions
Charles:
You’re infuriating
Me:
So you’ve said. I think you like it
Charles:
Against my will, I think I do too
Me:
Ha! You admitted it. Now. Fantasy. Make it dirty
Charles:
And now you’re being insufferable. But fine. My slutty fantasy is you fucking me somewhere we could get caught
I sit up, eyes almost falling from my head. I’d been expecting some celebrity name or whatever, but if he wants to make this about us, I’m on board.
Charles:
Oh, shit, you’re not answering. Is that weird? Did I make it weird?
Me:
You’re blushing, aren’t you?
Charles:
Fuck off
Me:
That’s not a no
Charles:
Did I mention insufferable?
Me:
First time I’ve heard it
My smile is out of control.
Me:
I like your fantasy. I like the idea of slowly sliding inside you, hand sealed over your mouth so you can’t make a noise as we listen to the people around us.
To slowly, achingly work you up until you can’t hold back.
To feel you spasming against my body, trying to hold in the delicious moans that end up coming out anyway.
To see the way you blush as you come down from your high and realize what we’ve done …
Charles:
And now I’m hard. In the library. I officially hate you
I chuckle, picturing him shifting in his seat, trying to hide his erection under the table.
Me:
Pity I’m not there. I could have helped you out
Charles:
Sure you can’t do Hush Hush tonight?
I can almost hear the needy tone in his voice.
Me:
I told you, the next time I’m inside you, it’ll be your ass. And we’re not doing that there
Charles:
I’m regretting all conversations we’ve had until this point
Me:
Then let’s change topic. What’s your non-sexy fantasy?
Charles:
No way. I can’t talk about that when all the blood is in my dick. We’ll have to take a rain check
Dammit. I had to push too far. I don’t regret it, but I maybe could have been a little smarter about the whole exchange.
If I hadn’t finished frat duties late tonight and didn’t have swimming early tomorrow, I’d be walking through the library doors this very minute. I type out another message on a whim.
Me:
Coffee tomorrow then? You haven’t yelled at me in a while
He takes way too long to reply for someone who’s stuck in place, hiding his boner.
Charles:
It’s a date
Even though we planned to meet at Deja Brew, when I walk in and find Chad has picked up an extra shift, I grab both coffees to go. For my “study session,” as far as Chad knows. Then I hightail it out of there and just manage to catch Charles at the corner.
“What are you …”
“Let’s go for a walk instead.” It’s getting warm for early spring, so the suggestion shouldn’t raise any suspicion, but he narrows his eyes anyway.
“Chad’s working, isn’t he?”
“You know what, I didn’t even notice.”
He rolls his eyes and takes the coffee I bought for him before leading the way down the street. “Your frat brothers won’t assume something’s going on because they see us together.”
“It’s not that.” It’s sort of that. But how do I explain to him that I’m not embarrassed or anything; it’s more that I’m … protective. I want this for us. Only us. Outside opinions will only piss me off.
“Uh-huh.”
“Always the skeptic.”
“For good reason.” But he doesn’t sound annoyed, more that he’s teasing me.
“I figured we wouldn’t be able to talk more about these fantasies if people we knew were around.”
“Speaking of, you never did tell me yours,” he says.
“Oh, mine is easy. Locker room sex. What every athlete wants and can never have.”
“You’re telling me you’ve never hooked up with another swimmer in the change rooms?”
“Bit hard when there are only dudes in there.”
“And?”
“And?”
He stares at me like I’m crazy. “I’m a dude.”
“Yeah, that hasn’t escaped my notice.”
“So …”
I shrug, trying to play it off because this isn’t something I was planning to get into with him. Ever. “Look, I always figured I was kinda into guys but never enough to do anything about it. Then you offered, so I thought … if I was ever going to try it, I might as well say yes.”
He gets these little lines on either side of his mouth as his lips pull tight. “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”
I laugh. “Don’t take that tone.”
“What tone?”
“The pissy tone you get right before you start ranting.”
He lifts his chin and turns away.
“Hey …”
He doesn’t answer, and I shouldn’t find it funny, but I kinda do.
“Charlie …”
“Dammit, Zeke, you can’t use that name every time you want something.”
“Clearly, I can.”
He pins me with a look, and I give in.
“Fine. Here’s the truth. Maybe I’ve found guys hot before, but I’ve purposely not gone there.
You agreed to a secret, and even that was a huge risk for me.
I’m aiming for the Olympics—it’s literally my life goal—and even though there have been gay swimmers before me, it’s not easy.
Some of the guys I swim with are assholes, and some of the coaches are complete homophobes.
I’ve seen it in action. Until I make it there, I can’t risk being overlooked purely because of one person’s opinion of me. Because that’s all it takes.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Most people don’t. People who are supportive don’t or won’t believe that there’s still outright hatred. Most people like to pretend it doesn’t exist anymore because it’s easier than facing the truth.” I wave a hand. “Anyway. That’s too serious for today. Don’t mind me.”
“Does it make me a total asshole that I kind of like that you told me that? I mean, the whole thing is stupid, but … yeah. I … You haven’t said that before, have you?”
“Who am I going to tell?”
He gives my arm a small nudge. “I’m lucky that I had my dads growing up.”
“Dads, as in plural?”
“Yeah, they’re gay. I’ve never had to worry about being supported by them, but … well, my Gramps has … opinions.”
My mood sours. “He’s one of those types, huh?”
“Yes, and he likes to pretend he isn’t. He won’t be outright homophobic because it’s in poor taste, but he gets close.
I used to think he was awesome. But he has very clear ideas on what a man should be, and his son doesn’t fit that mold.
Neither do I, but he doesn’t know that because I’m good at pretending. ”
“Geez … sorry.”
“It is what it is.”
We walk without saying anything, sipping from our coffees occasionally.
“That’s actually part of my fantasy …” he says.
I screw up my face. “Your … grandpa?”
He shoves me, and I love the laugh that bursts from him. “Not like that. Fuck …”
“What did you expect me to think?”
“Literally anything but incest being your first guess.”
Okay, he has a point. “Sorry, I’ll try again. Oh, a fantasy, Chuck, tell me more.”
“Better.” He takes a long breath. “I don’t want to be a lawyer. Law bores me to tears, and the only reason I’m doing it is to hopefully keep all the family on speaking terms. He already resents Dad; I’m worried this will be the thing that cuts all contact.”
From what he’s saying … that doesn’t sound terrible. “Would that be the worst thing?”
“Urg. No? I don’t know? I hate conflict—”
“Could have fooled me.”
That at least makes him smile. “Actual conflict. Gramps has all the money—he could easily cut us off, and what then? Will he threaten to do the same to the rest of the family if they don’t follow his lead with us?
He handpicks favorites from each generation, and my cousin and I are his little trophies.
His good grandsons who are carrying the family name.
” Charles scrubs his free hand through his hair. “It’s a lot of pressure, either way.”
“What would you do if you could choose?”
“Be a teacher.” He ducks his head. “It’s … it’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“I could see you as a teacher.”
His expression lights up when he turns to me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re passionate, remember? It’s something all teachers should be.”
“I don’t think passionate about sex is the requirement. Actually, I think it’s the opposite.”
I crack up laughing and play-punch his jaw. “You know what, I think I’m starting to like you a little too.”
“A little? Don’t go overboard.”
“Well, I’ve gotta keep that overinflated ego of yours in check somehow.”
“My ego? Do we need to have a conversation on self-reflection?”
I open my mouth to bite back when Charles glances up and we lock eyes, and I swear the breath punches from my chest. I’m … struggling to remember what the hell I was going to say.
“Zeke?”
“Uh, there’s a park over there,” I manage to get out, nodding across the road and ignoring the pit in my gut. “Let’s finish these there.”