Chapter 9
Keaton
We made it to the hotel in record time. Every second of check-in felt like torture, despite the cheery receptionist who was trying to provide top-notch customer service.
Once we had the key in hand, we hurried to the elevator, only to end up sharing it with an elderly couple who just happened to be going to the same floor.
The moment the doors on our floor slid open, I started moving, tugging Rowan down the carpeted hallway toward our room.
He fumbled with the key card, and the little green light finally blinked after a couple of failed attempts.
The door swung open, and we stumbled inside before I kicked it shut behind us, the loud click echoing through the quiet room.
“Is every date of ours going to end with you this desperate to get me naked?” he teased, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke.
“Probably. You got a problem with that?”
“Not at all.”
He slammed me back against the door, his body pinning mine. I wrapped a hand around his neck and crushed my lips against his. The kiss wasn’t gentle or sweet. It was a frantic attempt to forget the run-in with Ridgway and all the other shit that’d happened over the past few days.
I didn’t want to think anymore about Devon, Florida, or the future and what it meant for us. All of that was too big, too complicated. Right now, in this hotel room, we could take a moment to focus on each other.
Rowan’s hands were everywhere, pulling my shirt off as if he couldn’t breathe until he reached my skin.
I was doing the same, my fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, and finally ripping it open to send buttons flying in my impatience to touch him.
I needed to feel him, to confirm he was mine and that we were really okay.
His shirt fell open, and I flattened my palms against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my hands.
“Keaton,” he groaned against my mouth before biting my lower lip, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to stake a claim and remind me who I was with.
I responded by sliding my hands down his back to grip his ass and pull him harder against me.
I could feel his thick erection pressing against my own through the layers of our clothes.
The friction wasn’t enough, and I rocked my hips into his, seeking more.
He broke the kiss, his breathing harsh and uneven.
In the room’s dim light, his eyes were dark, almost black, yet they burned with an intensity that made my knees weak. “Turn around,” he commanded.
I obeyed without hesitation, anticipation flowing through me. I heard the rustle of fabric as he stripped off his ruined shirt, then the metallic clink of a belt buckle. My jeans felt impossibly tight as my cock ached with a need that bordered on pain.
He came up behind me, his bare chest pressing against my back, his skin hot and damp with sweat. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he splayed his hands across my stomach, holding me close. “I’m going to fuck you against this door. I’m going to make you forget everything but my name.”
I could only nod, my throat too tight to form words. Rowan’s knuckles brushed my skin as he unbuttoned my jeans. Soon, he tugged them down, along with my boxers, and let them pool around my ankles. The cool air hit my exposed skin, and I shivered.
A moment later, a cold, wet finger circled my hole. “Where the hell did you get lube?”
He held up a single-use packet. “I came prepared.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Awfully optimistic of you.”
“Just hopeful.” He kissed the side of my neck. “Now relax.”
His touch was gentle, a single finger circling lazily while pleasure radiated through me.
I pushed back against his hand, a silent plea for more.
He chuckled and slowly slid that finger inside me.
He moved it in and out, while his other hand gripped my hip, grounding me.
When he added a second digit, I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips.
He curled them just right to brush against that spot inside me that blurred my vision.
“Right there?” he asked smugly.
“God, yes,” I gasped, my forehead pressed against the door. “Don’t stop.”
He scissored his fingers, stretching me, preparing me. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, screaming for more. I was so close to the edge, so desperate for the main event that I could barely handle the anticipation.
“Please, Rowan,” I begged. “Now. I need you now.”
Luckily, he didn’t make me wait any longer. He withdrew his fingers, and I felt the loss immediately. I heard the tear of another packet, followed by a slick sound as he coated himself. Then his hands were on my hips, gripping me tightly, as he positioned himself behind me.
He thrust inside me, and the world narrowed to the sensation of him filling me. The sharp, intense burn quickly melted into deep, throbbing pleasure. He stilled for a moment to let me adjust, his forehead resting against my back and his breathing ragged.
“Okay?”
“More than okay,” I managed to say, pushing back against him and urging him on.
He started to move, slow and deep at first, before settling into a powerful rhythm that stole the air from my lungs and filled the room with the sound of our bodies slapping together.
I reached down and wrapped a hand around my aching cock, stroking myself in time with his powerful thrusts.
The dual stimulation was almost too much.
I could feel the pressure building, a tight coil of heat in my stomach, threatening to snap.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with exertion.
I turned my head, craning my neck to look at him over my shoulder. His lust-filled eyes locked onto mine. Seeing him lost in the moment, so completely consumed by his desire for me, finally pushed me over the edge.
My orgasm crashed through me, a blinding wave of pleasure that left me gasping and shaking. I came hard, my release spilling over my hand. My body went limp, and I would have collapsed if Rowan hadn’t been holding me up.
He wasn’t far behind me. With a groan, he buried himself deep inside me one last time, his body shuddering as he found his own release. I could feel the pulse of him as he filled me with his hot cum.
I rested my forehead against the door and closed my eyes.
Nothing had changed since earlier. Florida was still on the table.
Devon was still an issue. The future was full of questions neither of us could answer yet.
So maybe we hadn’t fixed much of anything.
But for the first time since LA, I found myself hoping that whatever happened next, we were finally fighting for the same thing again.
No one was usually up when I got home from a shift at the bar, so I was surprised to find Mason stretched across the couch in the dark, wearing an old hoodie and sweats, one arm draped behind his head as some rerun played on the TV.
Between taking a break from training at Titan and spending time with Rowan over the past few days, I hadn’t seen much of my roommates.
After LA, I hadn’t been in any hurry to go to the gym.
I’d gone in once for cardio and ended up having a brief and awkward talk with Devon, but otherwise I’d kept my distance and found other ways to get my cardio in.
Mason glanced over when I walked in. “Hey.”
“Why are you awake?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
His answer came quickly, but without any of his usual energy. Mason was known to be loud, but the last time I’d seen him, he’d been quieter than normal. Not rude, just off lately.
I leaned against the wall and studied him for another second as headlights flashed briefly across the living room windows before disappearing as a car passed.
I decided to rip off the band-aid and ask him point-blank. “You got a problem with Rowan and me?”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“You’ve been different since we told everyone.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have.”
He looked back toward the television. “I don’t have a problem with you guys dating.”
“Okay.”
He said he didn’t care, and I was going to take his word for it, especially since he wasn’t known for having a filter when he had something to say.
I pushed off the wall and headed toward the hallway.
“Keaton …”
His voice stopped me, and I turned back. “Yeah?”
“What made you stop hiding it?” he asked, not looking at me.
I furrowed my brow. “My relationship with Rowan?”
He nodded as he grabbed the remote, muted the TV, and sat up.
I thought about it for a moment. “Because hiding us almost cost me the person I love.”
For once, his face showed no grin or sarcasm, just nerves that suddenly made the last week make a whole lot more sense.
I walked back toward him and dropped into the recliner, wondering if something more was going on. “Is there a reason you’re asking?”
He let out a long exhale and stared at the beer bottle on the coffee table. The label was half-peeled off, probably from him picking at it while he sat there, thinking too much.
Silence stretched between us for a few seconds before he muttered, “I just ... I don’t know. Watching you two come out like that kinda fucked with my head a little.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve spent years wondering what would happen if anyone knew.”
“That you were into guys?” I was starting to put the pieces together.
His eyes stayed fixed on the TV screen. “My family’s weird about appearances, not in a blatantly homophobic way, but still weird enough to care about shit like that.”
“We’ve never really talked about your family. What are they like?”
“Rich.” He snorted softly. “Busy. My parents basically live in different countries for half the year. My brother runs an investment firm with my dad, and my sister married a surgeon. Everybody’s impressive and has their whole life mapped out.”
“And then there’s you.” I grinned.
“Yep,” he agreed. “The guy who skipped college, fights people in cages, and lives with other dumbasses who like getting their asses kicked.”
“Speak for yourself. I do the ass-kicking in my fights.”
He smiled. “I always figured that if I told them, it’d become a thing. Not because they’d kick me out or disown me. They’d just look at me differently.”
“My dad wasn’t the accepting kind,” I admitted quietly. “So trust me, I get not telling your family.”
Mason looked over at me. “What happened when you finally did?”
“Never happened. My dad died when I was seventeen, and my mom and I aren’t close.”
Some people wanted closure with their parents. They wanted acceptance. They wanted one big emotional conversation where everything finally got fixed. I’d stopped wanting that years ago. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d talked with my mom. It had to have been months ago.
“Damn.”
“Rowan’s parents were more like parents to me than mine ever were.”
Something in his eyes softened as if he understood what I meant. Family wasn’t always about blood. Over the past couple of years, the guys had filled some of that void for me too, and I suspected Mason knew exactly what I meant.
“You know what’s wild?” he asked.
“What?”
“I think I sensed something other than hate between you and Rowan before you two said anything.”
I chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“You looked at him like you wanted to fight him, and everybody who got too close to him.”
“That’s because I did.” I smirked.
He grinned back. “Seeing you two together makes coming out feel a little less scary.”
“You know you don’t have to figure everything out tonight,” I told him.
“Yeah, I know.”
“And you don’t owe anybody some dramatic coming-out speech either.”
He looked relieved to hear that. “Good. Because I’d probably make some lame joke, and no one would believe I was serious.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Rude.”
“It’s true.”
Mason snorted, then went serious again. “You ever worry that one of you will wake up one day and decide all of this is too much? Being together, being out, dealing with everything that comes with it. Especially in our world.”
“All the time.” The answer slipped out before I could even think it through.
He blinked. “Seriously?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Relationships are hard enough. But you know how guys in this sport talk. A lot of them act like being gay makes you weak, soft, or a joke. Even when they aren’t saying shit in a hateful way, the insinuation is still there.
” I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “I thought hiding made the most sense, but it made everything worse for us. That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about things getting hard once everyone knows. ”
That wasn’t something I would’ve admitted even a few weeks ago. Back then, I’d convinced myself secrecy would protect me, my career, Rowan, and whatever future we might have. Now all I could see was how badly the sneaking around had fucked him up. It’d fucked me up too.
“We’re still figuring shit out,” I continued. “But I know I don’t want him to feel like I’m ashamed of him.”
Mason leaned back against the couch cushions, scrubbed both hands down his face, then looked at me again. “You know what’s stupid?”
“What?”
“I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that nobody would care that much about me that I never really stopped to think maybe somebody would.”
Underneath all the jokes, sarcasm, and bullshit, it sounded as if Mason was lonely, which made me feel for him.
“You’ve got people here.”
His eyes flicked up to meet mine. “I do?”
“Yeah.”
For a second, he looked like he wanted to argue about that. Instead, he grabbed his beer bottle and took a sip. “Still feels odd to say it out loud.”
“You don’t have to do it perfectly.”
“That’s good because this conversation’s already awkward as shit.”
I laughed. “A little bit.”
“You’re not going to say anything to the other guys, are you?”
“No. I’d never do that to someone.”
“Good.” He pointed at me with the bottle. “Because if you did, I’d have to fight you.”
“You’d lose.”
“Debatable.”
“It’s really not.”
That earned me another laugh, and some of the tightness left his shoulders. He stood, leaving his beer bottle on the coffee table because some things never changed. “You can tell Rowan if you want, though. I don’t care.”
Normally, I would tell him to throw the bottle away, but tonight I let it go. “You sure?”
He shrugged. “You two are pretty much a package deal.”
The corner of my mouth pulled up. “Yeah. We are.”
He disappeared down the hallway, and I sat there for another minute after his bedroom door closed, the muted TV flickering in the dark living room.
I understood Mason a little better now, and it made me think about Rowan, about how much had changed in such a short time.
A few weeks ago, neither of us could’ve imagined sitting at a breakfast table, casually telling our roommates we were together.
Now Mason had trusted me enough to tell me something he’d been holding onto for years.
When I got to my room, I pulled out my phone and shot off a text:
You awake?
The typing bubble appeared a moment later.
Rowan
Barely. Why?
No reason. Just wanted to tell you I miss you
Three dots appeared again instantly.
Miss you too baby