4. Chapter 4
One week later, I’m one failed attempt away from begging Connor.
I ended up crashing on the couch after people left the party, since two of the organizers were my buddies and I didn’t want to go back to the dorm room.
The very tiny dorm room, where I would see Connor sleeping shirtless in a very comfortable bed that could definitely fit two guys if they huddled close together.
I woke up the next morning with a healthy dose of morning wood and decided things were back to normal. Everything was normal, and I wasn’t into Connor.
I was so wrong.
I went out later that night, already thinking about how I’m going to get laid with someone who is definitely not him.
Bummer. I got back to the dorm, tail between my legs, only find him in the shower.
Heard he was in the shower, didn’t walk in on him, even though I did have an internal debate over it.
And there it was. One little thought about joining him in the shower and it was up and proud.
Now, here I am, munching on a granola bar, trying to come to terms with two truths.
I’m not straight.
I’m into the asshole who organized my shirts by color, after he opened the shared closet one day and the stuffed mess that were my clothes fell on his head. The one who checks to see if I did my class assignments. The one who made a chore chart and pinned it to the door.
Of all people, why him? There were so many hot guys on my team. I see their cocks swinging all the time in the showers, and we get physical on the daily. At least a couple are gay, or at least bi. One even slapped my ass and winked at me after we won the last match of the previous season.
Why did it have to be the bossy, infuriating, emotionally unavailable control freak who sleeps across the room?
Why can I only get hard when I think about him, see him, hear him talk in that low, calm voice? This morning, when I saw him leave for a run in a shirt that was too tight for his own good, I almost crashed into the bathroom door trying to get some privacy.
Connor’s straight, which doesn’t help my case. I can’t grab him by the collar and throw him on the bed, though I would pay to see the look on his face if I did that.
I finish eating and bury my face in my pillow just as I hear the door open.
He takes a couple of steps inside before stopping.
“I’m not sleeping,” I mumble into the pillow. As much as he got on my nerves, he was probably the most considerate guy I’ve ever met.
“Oh, good.”
He walks past me and I shift my face to look at him. He takes off his shirt, the image of his torso with a thin shimmer of sweat after a run going straight to my cock. Have I always been aware of the way he smelled too?
He turns to look at me, his mouth open and ready to say something, but stops abruptly.
He caught me staring. There’s no universe in which I could delude myself into thinking that what I was doing wasn’t staring.
Gawking, he would correct me. I’m unable to look away as he pins me with his eyes.
Those icy blue eyes that I suddenly want to see up close. Very close.
His throat bobs as I hear him audibly swallow. But before I can think anything of it, he turns around and heads to the shower.
I groan, pressing my face back into the pillow and my hips into the bed, willing the hardness to go down before my very straight roommate comes out and sees the tent in my pants.
***
By the time he gets out, I somehow managed to not think about him in there and hide any evidence that I was thinking about him at all. At least until he sits down on his bed and levels me with a questioning look.
“Are you doing one of those stupid no nut challenges?”
I almost spit out the water I was drinking.
“What are you talking about?”
“One of your buddies stopped me in front of the gym and asked if you’re alright. He said he hasn’t heard you brag about any hookup since the beginning of summer and you make this weird face when girls approach you.”
The words hit me in the gut. Shit, so people noticed. And they ask Connor about it. Just my luck.
“Nah, man, he’s talking out of his ass.” I wave a hand as casually as I can, trying to put an end to this conversation.
“I noticed it as well.”
I look at him with what must be my best impression of a deer caught in headlights. Others noticing was one thing; him noticing was entirely different. And now he’s giving me that look I know very well, waiting for me to explain and not accepting a change of topic.
I pick up my phone, hoping to give the clear signal that this conversation is over. But after a couple of minutes of mindless scrolling, when I look up, he’s still staring at me. My whole body feels his gaze on me.
Fuck it, I’m wearing gray sweatpants, even if I say nothing, he’s going to notice at any point now. Knowing him, the worst he will do is let me down gently… and then proceed to move out of the dorm.
“I have a problem.” I finally admit. “I need your help.” The last part comes out through gritted teeth.
His eyebrows shoot up and he leans in, elbows resting on his knees.
After a few moments of silence, I decide I might as well get this over with.
“I can’t get it up. That’s why there have been no stories.” I dip my head, avoiding to look at him.
“Since the beginning of summer?”
He doesn’t seem fazed. I nod.
“You poor thing.”
It goes straight to my gut, groin and cock at the same time. A shiver runs through me at the low, husky tone. When I look up, there’s a shadow of a smirk dancing on his face.
Then he stands up and starts walking towards me.
“Well, let me see what I can do about that.”