Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
JENSEN
The beers go down easily. Conversation turns to what people from our grad year are doing now, who we think will win the Stanley Cup next, heckling over two rounds of pool before we return to our booth, all the while circling around the past and how it almost feels like we’re rewriting it.
“It’s offensive you even need to ask,” Barrett says, his permanently happy face trying to pull into something sour. “Of course Jonathan Bailey is hotter than Ezra Palaszczuk. Have you seen those slutty little glasses?”
I stretch my arm along the back of the booth and turn to him, my knee knocking against his.
We gave up sitting opposite when the table kept getting between us.
I don’t know what exactly the table was disrupting, but with it gone, it’s a lot easier to look at him.
To touch him. To be overwhelmingly surrounded by Barrett and everything I’ve missed.
“I guess now is a bad time to tell you I wear glasses?”
His mouth drops. “No you fucking don’t.”
“No,” I admit. “I don’t. But I could.”
Barrett chokes back a laugh. “I mean, you are a real academic.”
“This is true. I study a lot.”
“I don’t want to know what you study, do I?”
“Hockey, obviously.” I throw him a duh look. “And blow jobs, fucking, threesomes—”
“Do you have those often?”
“Eh …” I tilt my hand side to side. “During the season, hookups are usually quick and through apps. Over the summer is when I can have more fun. Lachie goes home, so it’s only me there, and I have a few people I can call. One couple is really good at, uh, sharing.”
“This summer sounds like it’s going to be a whole lot more boring than that.”
“I’m not sure boring is the right word for it.” Between Kasen, my parents, and Barrett, I’m on an emotional roller coaster. “Celibate, maybe.”
“We can go to Montreal together to hook up?”
At first, I think he means so that we can hook up together, and then my brain checks back in.
To hook up … separately. This weird, slimy feeling creeps over me, like it did when he was talking about Trevor.
All I could picture was him and Trevor in the locker room, in our hotel room, hanging back in the showers when the team had all left.
I assumed I just found it hot.
I’m not so sure that’s what this feeling is though.
“Sounds like a plan.” And that plan will be to make sure it never happens. Barrett can hook up with whoever he wants, but I’m a firm believer that two best friends do not need to see each other doing that. In fact, it’s probably a good thing he never told me about Trevor.
I don’t think shelling him at practice would have gone unnoticed.
He leans in, full lips teasingly tilted toward me. “Think if we go dancing with our shirts off that I can poll people on the prettiness of my nipples?”
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“I’ll be hanging on to it at least for the summer. Can you blame me? You used to find me hot.”
“Used to?”
I’m not planning the words or how they fall out like that, but the implication hangs between us.
Yes, I used to find Barrett hot.
Regrettably, I still apparently do.
Our eyes connect, and I can read the heavy question in his gaze. Which makes it easier to ignore.
“Have you ever dated?”
“Very occasionally.” He’s still studying me but manages a half smile. “When you can’t make a relationship your priority, people lose interest fast.”
“Fuck them.”
“Fuck them, huh?” He shrugs. “I did. Well, some of them, anyway.”
My gaze drops from his face to his chest, the wide shoulders, where his strong hand is resting on the table, prominent vein running along the back of it.
Barrett shifts closer as he stretches, and I don’t know if he realizes he’s done it or not, but I’m hyperaware of every inch from my body to his. “What about you? Have you dated?”
“Nope. When I first got to St. Louis, I was all about the fun. Now, I wouldn’t mind it, but fitting someone into my schedule, especially living with Lachie, feels like more trouble than it’s worth.”
“You’ll just have to keep having threesomes, then.”
“Guess I will.”
His brown eyes shine under the dim lighting. “I never would have guessed, out of all our friends, that you’d be the one having threesomes.”
“I never guessed you’d be the one fucking men. Even we had our secrets.”
“Well, I’m not the only one fucking men.”
The ache deep in my gut has to be the only reason I say what comes out next. “No. And I fuck them really good too.”
Barrett swallows. “Favorite position?”
“However gets me off.”
“That’s such a Hawke answer.” He reaches over and pokes my stomach, stirring that ache in my gut. “I like it from behind.”
“Weird. I would have picked you for a boring missionary guy.”
His straight eyebrows lift a little. “If you think missionary is boring, you’ve never experienced it properly.”
“Really?” My tone is heavy with disbelief. “What’s so good about it?”
“Firstly, the angle. Secondly, having a heavy body weighing you down. The grunts in your ear. Watching a man’s face as he comes.” Barrett’s voice has dropped, and I inch closer to catch every word. “Being wrapped around each other, sweaty and overheated.”
I’ve had a lot of experience being wrapped around the people I sleep with, but it’s never felt the way he’s talking. It’s fun and hot. Fueled by lust. A quick fuck before we all go back to our lives.
My dick thickens as his words play on repeat in my mind.
Like it’s been ten minutes instead of ten years, the urge to reach over and touch him is as familiar as breathing.
How many times did we shoot the shit at the river, shirtless and ridiculous, while I fought every urge in my body against looking too long?
How many times did we play video games, and I’d have to remind myself to keep my eyes on the screen?
And all those times in the locker room when I’d only allow myself to glance over for the very fast count of three.
I try it now.
Counting to three.
But I get there, and the moment passes, and I keep on looking.
“You’re right. I’ve never experienced that before.” My voice is deeper than usual, and I’m sure he picks up on it.
“That said—” His lips twitch. “—there’s nothing like being railed from behind.”
“You bottom?” I shouldn’t ask, but it’s out before I can stop myself.
Barrett takes a very long sip of his beer, watching me over the rim. “What?” he asks, smacking his wet lips. “You don’t?”
“No, I do, but I—”
“Let’s just say that I have my preferences, but I’m, uh …” His gaze runs over me, and I swear the heat in the bar is cranked right up because I’m sweating. “Flexible.”
I scowl. “As flexible as Trevor?”
“That almost sounded jealous, Hawke. Did you have a thing for him?”
“Fuck no.” I don’t deny the jealousy though. I should. Because it’s not like I wanted to fuck Barrett during college. That was more of a high school thing. And, okay, maybe there were a few times in college I almost suggested we fool around for fun, and yes, my dick is blindingly hard right now.
But that doesn’t mean I’m jealous.
Just … sort of hate that Barrett felt comfortable enough to go through that with Trevor and not me.
“How did that get started, anyway?” I ask, like I can’t help myself. Someone—probably the beer—has taken over my mouth and isn’t slowing down. “He put on a little show in the shower for you? Offer to massage away the aches from a game.”
Barrett’s eyes narrow teasingly, setting off a flurry in my gut. “This isn’t a low-budget porn film we’re talking about.”
“What, then?” My tone is short, probably because I don’t actually want him to tell me, but I’m going to keep pushing for it anyway. Because again. My mouth.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.” No.
“We were at a party. I overheard him on the phone to his mom in one of the bedrooms. Apparently, she wasn’t happy about him planning to come out.
When they hung up, I figured I’d go and comfort him, and we got to talking.
He told me everything. So I figured it was my chance to act on what I thought I’d been feeling. ”
I jump as Barrett sets his hand midway up my thigh.
“I touched him here,” Barrett murmurs, gaze still locked on mine. “Told him I knew how he was feeling.”
His hand inches higher, and it takes everything in me to stay still. To stop my eyes from rolling back.
“That I was here for him if he needed it.”
“And?” The word barely makes it past my teeth.
“And he got on his knees and sucked my cock.”
My own cock throbs.
With startling clarity, I know exactly what party it was too. Or at least, one of the parties they hooked up at. I was looking for him to do shots with me when the both of them walked out of a bedroom. I thought nothing of it, but Barrett had been in the best mood all night.
Because of fucking Trevor.
I push away from the table. “I’m getting us more drinks.”
Instead of heading for the bar though, I take the back exit that loops around to the small parking lot. The door complains as I shoulder through it and out into the cooler night air. At first, I glare at the sky, unsure why it’s night, then I realize hours must have passed.
Hours. With Barrett.
That’s how easy it still is with him.
Or at least, that’s how I’ve always felt.
Apparently, he doesn’t think the same.
If he did, I would have been the one he came out to. I would have been the one to suck his cock.
It’s not a question in my mind. While I might not have been in love with him or anything like that, the idea of getting to spend college having sex with him would have blown my fucking mind.
How much easier would it have been to share a room with the guy you’re fucking instead of faking a stomach flu for your roommate?
But no. Fucking Trevor got all that.
The back door creaks open, and I know it’s him without looking.
“You ready to go home?”
“Sure.” I don’t wait for him as I take off toward the car.
“What’s up with you?” he taunts. Like he enjoys having me on edge.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” We reach the car, but he crosses his arms and leans against the passenger door. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Why the fuck did you tell Trevor and not me? You didn’t trust me?”
He doesn’t answer. Just stares at me like he’s amused. “Is that what you’re really pissed about? Because you didn’t tell me either.”
“I—”
“Wanna know my guess?”
“No.” Because I have a feeling he’ll know the exact reason I want to storm out of my skin.
“I think you’re mad because you wanted to be the one to suck my cock.”
I scowl and go to pull away, but Barrett bunches his hands into my shirt, so I don’t get far.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You wanted to be the first mouth I ever dipped my dick into.”
I slam my hand against the side of his car and stare him down. “Yes, it should have been me. Fuck you for choosing Trevor when we could have gone through all that together.”
There are a few seconds where all we do is breathe. Where I let myself want like I’ve never been free to do for him before. Barrett is still incredibly attractive, but there’s something about the way he’s grown up that’s moved my interest from fuckable to desperation.
“Well …” he murmurs. “You know now.”
My gaze slowly sharpens on his, the brown depths that hold the weight of too much for someone our age. Instead of all the worry and stress that’s been there the last few days, they’re burning with interest.
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
The tug in my gut is urging me to read into it. To process how he’s still gripping my shirt, and the space between us is all but gone. My heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest, and my head is growing hot, feet unsteady, and he’s looking and I’m looking and—
“Fuck it.”
My mouth is on his before I have time to think. One hand on his jaw, one diving into his hair, tongue plunging in to meet his. All I can taste is the beer we were drinking, and then Barrett feeds me a deep, rumbly moan.
My dick is so hard it hurts.
But he’s kissing me back.
Finally.
Like that, the years of distance are gone.
But the ache I have for him only grows hungrier.