Chapter Fifteen Los Angeles
Piper walked toward the sideline, chest rising harder than it should have this early, sweat already cooling under his shoulder pads. He reached for his bottle, and looked down at his phone out of habit more than hope. One message, from Noah, finally.
A surge of dopamine shot through his entire body. He opened it. Piper.
Piper stared at the screen.
There was nothing romantic in the wording. If anyone else saw it, it meant nothing. Probably why it landed like a hook to the ribs.
How the fuck am I supposed to answer to my name, this dude is a mess. Piper thought to himself as his fingers hovered over the keys. Noah? He hit send.
Tank came up beside him and cracked his own bottle open. “Sup, my dude.”
Piper locked the phone and slid it face down onto the bench.
“Who are you texting with that face?”
Piper took a drink before answering. “Vivienne. I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with me today.”
Tank snorted. “Then throw less hard. You’re making the children nervous after yesterday’s aggressive performance.”
That got him, finally. Not a full laugh, but enough of one that Tank noticed.
“There,” Tank said. “That’s better.” As he ran to harass another teammate.
Piper's phone buzzed, Noah again. Sorry I have been radio silent, had to go to Walla Walla to deal with my family…long story…miss you.
He read it twice, I kind of miss U2, hit send, then locked the screen again and hated how much steadier he felt. He ran back on field to continue practice.
Film after that, then treatment, then two meetings that should have required his full attention and got maybe sixty percent of it.
By the time he left the facility, the sun had burned through the morning haze.
He drove home in silence with the windows up, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping once against his thigh every time his phone buzzed.
Kind of? Asshole. Anyways I actually miss you, Noah replied.
Piper read that one three times before replying. Your standards are low. The answer came back immediately. I like interesting dudes. Helps when they are as hot as you are.
He should have put the phone down after that. Instead, he kept it in his hand at every red light.
Joan, I am still that fat kid in my head, hot isn’t really what I see in the mirror, but I will take it.
***
By seven-thirty he was in his kitchen wearing a Vuori tank top and sweatpants and standing barefoot on the cool floor with the refrigerator open and no real plan for dinner. His refrigerator contained a dozen eggs, protein shakes, and several boxes of Uncrustables, his favorite snack.
The phone buzzed again. If I FaceTime you, are you gonna act weird?
Piper stared at the screen. Go for it.
He shouldn’t. He knew that. He knew how this worked now. One choice. Then another. Then another. He wanted this but knew the distraction would cost him at some point.
He picked up the phone, anyway.
The screen filled with Noah’s bedroom and then his smiling face.
“There he is,” Noah said.
Piper walked toward the living room windows. “There I am.”
“Nice to see your face. What are you doing?” Noah asked as his smile got bigger.
“I’m eating an Uncrustable for dinner.”
Noah laughed softly. “That’s such a Piper Ashton meal,” and leaned back against his headboard. He was shirtless, one knee bent up under the covers, Versace briefs clinging to his skin. The sight of him, ordinary and unguarded, did something in Piper’s chest, then traveled down to his cock.
Piper walked to his bedroom. “How is Seattle?”
“Wet. Loud. Darius thinks I’m a distraction for the team.”
“Why?”
“Said the media’s doing too much on the two of us.”
That shut Piper up. Noah noticed immediately. “There it is.”
“What?”
“Well the two of us are sort of a story everywhere right now. If they only knew we were fucking.” Noah laughed, then continued, “most people would sell their first born child for this kind of press.”
“It’s just a lot and I want to focus on football,” Piper said as he sat on the bed.
“Is it ever about football?”
Noah shifted on the bed, every muscle yelling at him.
“Look, I’m injured, famous, making bad decisions, and all I can think about is you.”
“That’s the most self-aware thing you’ve ever said to me,” Piper said with a smile.
Noah smiled. “I contain multitudes.”
The quiet that followed didn’t feel awkward. It should have, but instead, it felt easy. Piper was not used to easy, not like this.
Noah’s expression shifted, softening just enough that Piper noticed.
“You are looking hot with that Uncrustable.”
Piper frowned. “Wish we were eating Uncrustables by candlelight,” Piper said as a smile surfaced.
“Champagne and Uncrustables sounds like a date.”
“I like it,” Piper said.
Noah nodded, followed by a mischievous smirk.
“Okay.”
Piper looked down at the floor, then back up. “That’s all?”
“What do you want me to say?”
He didn’t have an answer to that. Noah smiled faintly. “See. You’re not the only one allowed to be weird.”
Piper let out a breath that almost counted as a laugh.
“Are you tired?”
“No.”
“You absolutely are.”
Noah opened one eye. “You gonna leave me if I am?”
“So, we are together now?”
Noah smiled without opening his eyes fully. “I’ll let your question answer itself.”
The silence stretched.
“Say something to me.”
Noah opened his eyes. “What?”
“Say something. In Spanish.”
Noah looked at him. The room was dark. The sheet was at Noah’s hip. He was on his side, facing Piper, one arm under his head, the other flat on the mattress.
“Why?” Noah replied.
“Because I hardly ever hear you speak Spanish.”
“You’ve heard me speak Spanish.”
“A few times. On the phone a couple times but that doesn’t count.”
Noah said, “Quiero que estés a mi lado.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not telling you.”
“Noah.”
“Look it up.”
“I’m not going to look it up.”
“Then you don’t get to know.”
“Teach me something.”
“You want to learn Spanish now.”
“I want to learn one thing.”
“What thing?”
Piper thought about it.
“Something you want to do to me right now.”
Noah was quiet for a second. Then he gave a mischievous smirk.
“Okay.”
“Repeat after me. Quiero follarte hasta reventarte el cerebro.”
Piper tried. He got it wrong at first. Noah corrected him, and Piper said it again, and then a third time.
“Tell me what it means.”
“Not yet.”
“Noah, what does it fucking mean?”
“Just learn it, Google Translate is a thing. Good night, sexy.”
“Good night, Noah.”