Chapter 19 #2
“Baby,” Ramsey drawled, “do you want me thinking about a three point plan now?”
The answer was unequivocally no, so it just made sense for Nate to kiss him quiet and then turn the tables, him dragging Ramsey towards the bedroom.
A shaft of weak mid-afternoon sunlight cut across the room as Nate pushed him onto the bed and crawled over him. Ramsey groaned deep as Nate blanketed his body, their mouths moving together hot and wet and sure.
Ramsey’s hands were in his hair, then digging into his shoulders. Reaching down and pulling his sweatshirt and then his T-shirt off. Palms hot on Nate’s bare skin as he arched up, rubbing his cock against Nate’s.
Nate felt breathless and needy, already. Every time they slept together it was better than the last. Ramsey was an addiction he’d never get out from under his skin, a burning craving he was looking forward to spending his life gorging on.
“Can’t get enough of you,” Nate murmured, kissing Ramsey’s neck and then pulling back so he could wrangle Ramsey’s shirt off.
For a second he rocked back onto his heels, taking in the incomparable view in front of him. Blond curls spreading out like a halo, blue eyes shining up at him, full of awe and affection and lust. Pale skin, rippling with muscle, still vaguely tinged with the sun of a faraway summer.
Nate trailed his fingertips down his chest, then lower, tucking them underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down the rest of the way.
Ramsey’s cock was straining against his dark blue briefs, and the Nate watched every tiny shift of Ramsey’s expression as he cupped it, smoothing his palm down its length.
Ramsey’s teeth dug into his plush bottom lip, already slightly swollen and wet from Nate’s mouth.
“Want you,” Ramsey said, the words escaping him, soft and true.
Nate knew Ramsey meant every word. He also knew what else his words meant, the other word that replaced want in Ramsey’s head. He heard it just as good as if he’d said it.
Words were fine and good, but they were nothing compared to the way Ramsey was looking at him now, love shining in his eyes.
He was always beautiful but he was most beautiful when he was looking at Nate this way, his heart written into every line of his face.
“Love you too,” Nate said, leaning down to tug Ramsey’s briefs down. He caught just a glimpse of Ramsey’s face and how it broke open, every bit of his feelings laid bare, before he tucked his head down and sucked the head of Ramsey’s cock into his mouth.
Ramsey’s whole body jerked, and his hands found Nate’s hair, digging into his scalp. “God, yes, please,” he cried out above Nate.
And what else was Nate supposed to do but give him everything he wanted? Lavish the kind of pleasure on Ramsey that he deserved? He slid his tongue down the underside and then took more into his mouth, savoring the taste and the weight of him.
His own cock throbbed as he built up a good rhythm but it was easier than he’d thought to forget about his own desire and focus on Ramsey’s.
So easy to lose himself until Ramsey was clutching his head, every muscle clenching and he was groaning deep as he came down Nate’s throat.
Nate raised his head and took in the incomparable view laid out before him—Ramsey melting into the mattress, bliss painted across his features, blue eyes soft and languorous and full of love.
“Come here,” Ramsey murmured and Nate didn’t need another invitation.
He shoved his sweatpants down and groaned as he got a hand around his dick, aching and as hard as he’d ever been in his life.
As he straddled Ramsey’s waist, his hand tucked itself around Nate’s and around Nate’s straining dick.
“God,” Nate groaned. Just his touch felt good, but Ramsey’s? And them moving together? On a whole other level.
Once when he was drunk, Deacon had told him that when you fell in love, even the simplest handjob could feel life and mind altering. He got it now.
Ramsey’s other hand dug into his hip like he could press all five fingerprints into his skin and claim him forever, and that was all it took to send him over the edge. Nate shuddered as he watched stripes of come land on Ramsey’s chest.
Marking him right back.
They’d belonged to each other before this, but it felt like more.
Not just the sex, but that they’d acknowledged the owning of it, now.
“Damn,” Ramsey said as Nate gazed down at him for one more second, saving this view for every time they were apart. Of course if he had any say in it, he’d get a lot more views just like this.
Then he collapsed gently onto Ramsey’s body, cradling his face with a palm.
Ramsey sighed, a happy exhale of a sound. “I’m not moving.”
“Didn’t ask you to,” Nate murmured into his shoulder. He pressed a kiss in. Wanted to see that on his skin too. Not to prove to anyone else who Ramsey belonged to, but so he could see it.
“Good,” Ramsey said smugly. He hesitated. “Eventually, though. ’Cause Barty’s gonna freak out and I’m gonna have to deal with it.”
“I thought you said that text was enough. No three point plan necessary?”
“Oh, it’s not, but let’s just say it’s not like me to skip it.”
Nate had known it. Had also known what Ramsey throwing all his normal chess-mastering to the wind meant.
Tucked that knowledge soft and sweet against his heart.
“You gonna tell me you let it go for me?” Nate teased.
Ramsey rolled his eyes, but he looked pleased and happy and in love, and that was all Nate had ever wanted. “Are you gonna be insufferable if I say yes?”
“Pleased, yeah? Insufferable, no.” Nate leaned in and kissed him. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Come join me whenever you’re done with Barty.”
Sure enough, when Ramsey retrieved and checked his phone, there were three successive texts from Barty under his initial text.
***
how do I know this is even you?
doesn’t sound like you. the new you?
The new you, Ramsey thought as he stared at the screen.
How to tell Barty that this wasn’t a new him, but instead the real him. The person he’d long buried behind the walls that had made up the foundations of his self for so long that for a minute he had actually wondered if what everyone was seeing was new.
But no. The guy who’d emerged with the advent of Nate into his life wasn’t new at all, but old.
He dialed Barty’s number, hoping that in the last half an hour he hadn’t magically gotten busy—or busier.
He detoured into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and to talk to his agent, again.
“Oh, so now you can talk to me,” Barty snarked into Ramsey’s ear as he leaned against the counter.
“Sorry,” Ramsey said unapologetically. “We had to re-renegotiate and that took . . .time.” Less than five minutes, actually, but Barty didn’t need to know the detailed breakdown between the negotiation and the sex they’d needed to have after about it.
“Sure,” Barty said, a knowing edge to his voice. “You going to tell me about this personal problem anytime soon?”
“There’s not much to tell,” Ramsey said lightly, even though that wasn’t true at all.
“Please,” Barty insisted. “You were sure you wanted me to trade you to the Leafs—which was fucking crazy, by the way. Sure, I could’ve done it—”
“Only because I laid it out for you on a silver platter,” Ramsey reminded him. Barty was a good agent, but Ramsey was better, and Ramsey wasn’t going to let him get ahead of himself.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now, right?” Barty retorted.
For a second, Ramsey almost told him to do it again. He didn’t want to figure out how to do long-distance. It was going to suck, sometimes. Maybe even a lot of the time. But then, he thought of how willing Nate was to do it, selflessly, just so Ramsey could stay with his team.
Instead, he said, “No, no, it doesn’t.”
“And you’re okay with staying in Buffalo,” Barty clarified.
Ramsey took a breath, let it out. He’d never imagined himself in a relationship of any kind, nevermind a partially long-distance relationship with not just another professional athlete, but a football player.
“Yes,” Ramsey said.
“And you’re not going to change your mind.”
Ramsey rolled his eyes. “You forget who you’re talking to, Barty. I’m not gonna fucking change my mind.”
“Hey, you already changed your mind,” Barty reminded him.
“I . . .” He hadn’t, actually. Because he’d never wanted to make the decision in the first place.
He’d only been thinking of how best he could fiercely protect this miraculous situation he’d found himself in.
And maybe, just a little, he’d been acting defensively, remembering Wes and Marcus, and how that had ended.
“Actually, no, I didn’t change my mind,” Ramsey corrected. “I just needed a reminder of what I already knew was true.”
Barty was quiet for a moment. It was unlike Barty, so Ramsey should’ve expected what he said next, but even Barty could surprise him once in awhile. “Like the sound of your personal problem. Though, if I’m being honest, it doesn’t sound much like a problem but a solution.”
Ramsey froze. Because it was true. In so many ways—in every way that mattered—Nate was the key to his lock.
“Yeah, uh. Yeah. That’s true.”
“Good,” Barty said. “Let me know when you want to talk more about it.”
“How do you know—”
“You will,” Barty said firmly.
Ramsey had initially hired Barty because he couldn’t negotiate for himself, and Barty had seemed like the best possible option. Creative but not too creative that he’d ignore Ramsey’s clear directives.
But maybe he’d been underestimating Barty this whole time.
“I will,” Ramsey agreed.
Barty chuckled under his breath. “Go talk to your personal problem, okay?”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Hanging up, Ramsey tossed his phone onto the couch to go join Nate in the shower.
The next morning, it was still early when Ramsey let himself into Wes’ apartment. He needed more clothes and to deal with some emails on his laptop.
He’d assumed Wes would be there, but he hadn’t expected Wes to be sitting on one of the barstools, giving him the eye as he walked in.
“Hey, Dad,” Ramsey teased lightly, hoping it might alleviate the incoming lecture. “Yes, I had a great time. Yes, I was safe. I promise.”
Wes rolled his eyes. “I had breakfast with Brody and Dean yesterday.”
“Yeah, they told me that they were going to.” Ramsey set his overnight bag down on the couch.
Wes shot him a look. “You’re really serious about him.”
Ramsey supposed that now was as good of a time as any to have this conversation. Maybe he could’ve put it off, but there was no point in doing that.
“Yeah. We’re figuring out how to do this long-distance thing,” he said.
The moment the words entered Wes’ consciousness, he shut down. Whole face went pale and blank.
“That’s a—”
“No, it’s not,” Ramsey said steadily, before Wes could add mistake to the end of his sentence. “You think so because you blame the distance on fucking up your relationship with Marcus.”
Wes’ face went from bleached, like a bone, to bright red. “That’s not . . .no. And it did.”
Ramsey had never wanted to say any of this to Wes. Had gone out of his way to not say it, but maybe that had been doing both of them a disservice.
Still, he kept his voice soft and gentle, even though he knew the words would land like body blows.
“No, it wasn’t the distance. It was that you picked football over Marcus, over and over again, and now you’re still on the sideline.
Maybe that’s on you. Maybe it’s not. He never got it, why you had to do it, and that was on him.
This is a hard life, for anyone, and it’s not anyone’s fault that it didn’t work out between you two. You know what is your fault?”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” Wes said bitterly. He’d turned away now, probably to try to hide the pain in his eyes, but Ramsey didn’t need to see it to know it was there.
“Not calling him and telling him that you regret it,” Ramsey said.
Wes didn’t say anything for so long that Ramsey actually thought that maybe he’d fucked it up. That maybe it wasn’t inevitable, and he should’ve never said it.
“You promised—” Wes finally said, but Ramsey wasn’t going to let that stand.
“And I did keep that promise,” Ramsey said, approaching Wes with a careful hand between his stiff, tense shoulder blades. “I kept it as long as I could. But this is ridiculous, Wes. You love him. He loves you. Don’t let this stupid argument come between you.”
Ramsey wasn’t surprised, but he was disappointed when Wes shrugged him off with an aggravated movement. “Just because you’re happy and in love now doesn’t mean you know anything about it. And yeah, I am thrilled that you are. It’s about time. But you’re taking a risk.”
“I know,” Ramsey said. “That’s what love is. Taking a risk. Hoping it pays off.”
He never had wanted to before, but Nate made every terrifying possibility worth it. Every deliriously happy moment was the payoff for that risk-taking.
Wes’ shoulders slumped, and Ramsey wasn’t surprised at all when he folded into Ramsey’s arms. He’d even known he’d need to catch him, and he did.
For a long time they didn’t say anything, just held each other.
“Feels like everything’s changing. You’re going back to Buffalo. I’m . . .I don’t know what I’m doing,” Wes finally said, his words muffled in Ramsey’s shoulder.
“Yeah, you do. You do know,” Ramsey said. “You play quarterback for the Toronto Thunder.”
“No, I . . .I don’t. I really don’t.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re there, in case anything happens to Aidan. It might, and when or if it does, you’re going to be ready.”
Wes was quiet a beat longer. “I don’t want to text him. I don’t want to call him. I love him but I don’t want to do either of those things.”
Ramsey couldn’t force him to reach out to Marcus. That much was something he’d had to come to terms with before. “Okay,” he said easily, but he already knew he wasn’t going to stop trying.
Or that deep down, Wes wouldn’t stop wanting to.