Chapter Seven
“Hey, we’re all headed to the Gaslamp District tonight. Who’s in?”
Matt shook his head. “No thanks, Trey. But you all have fun.”
Shane decided to pass, too, and as they climbed the stairs to their rooms, he asked, “You don’t drink, do you? I’ve noticed how you always go for the sodas.” When Matt flicked him a glance, he added hastily, “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.”
“Nah, it’s not a deep dark secret. I just don’t like the way it makes me feel, that’s all. Plus I’m not much into the dudebro scene. How come you’re not going?”
“Too tired.” Shane let out a rueful chuckle. “Too old, I guess.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re ancient. What are you, twenty-six?”
“Almost twenty-eight.”
“Wow, that is old. Jesus Christ.”
Shane sighed. “You really like pushing my buttons, don’t you, Soup?”
“Only ’cause it’s so easy to do, man.”
Matt wasn’t wrong, and most days Shane couldn’t decide if he liked it or hated it. One good thing, Matt didn’t strike him as the game-playing type. With this dude, what you saw was what you got, and that Shane definitely liked.
“So how old are you?” Not wanting to say good night yet, Shane settled his butt against the railing outside Matt’s door, arms crossed over his chest. Matt mirrored his pose.
“Twenty-three.”
“Why’d you wait so long to come to BUD/S? From what you’ve said, you never wanted to do anything else.” There were a couple of guys in their class who were right out of high school. “Did you go to college?”
“Yeah, I did, but only ’cause my uncle made a deal with me: If I went to college before BUD/S, he’d come pin my Trident on. Otherwise, he’d come to my graduation but he wouldn’t pin my Trident.”
Shane winced as he thought how Matt must have taken that. “Yikes. Talk about a hard bargain.”
“I was so pissed, you don’t even know.” Matt’s voice throbbed with remembered anger. “That’s my ultimate dream, and he knew it. He had me over a fucking barrel, so I went off to UND kicking and screaming.”
“How’d it go?”
“Pissed me off even more that he was right, that cagey old bastard. College was—Let’s just say I learned a lot about myself, stuff I wouldn’t have wanted to learn while going through BUD/S; know what I mean?”
Shane flashed back to his own college days. Friendship and laughter. Pain, betrayal…
Shaking off the memories, he grunted, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“I needed to grow up a little first, I’ll admit it.”
At that Shane couldn’t help but laugh. “Nah, you would’ve made it either way. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so tenacious and determined in all my life.”
“I haven’t made it yet, though, so don’t fucking jinx me,” Matt said fiercely. “If surf passage keeps kicking my ass, I might not make it.”
“Hmm, you do suck at surf passage.” Shane enjoyed Matt’s sudden glare of outrage. “I have to say, I get a huge kick out of seeing you fail at something around here.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“Sorry.” Shane laughed. “Couldn’t resist. You’re way too easy to rile.” And you’re sexy as hell when you’re all spun up.
“Only you, clown. Only you.” Matt pushed his door open. “With everyone else, I’m all sweetness and light. But you—”
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
Shane’s impulsive words hung in the air between them as Matt froze in the doorway.
Did you really have to say it like that? You’re not fucking asking him out on a date, dumbass. He gulped. Are you?
Unable to do anything now but see it through, Shane waited tensely for the scorn to rain down, possibly followed by a punch to the face.
Relief made his knees go weak when all Matt said was, “What’re you thinking, pizza at the house? I guess it’d be nice to get a jump on our laundry so we have the rest of the weekend to relax.”
Grasping at the lifeline, Shane burst out, “Yes, that. That’s just what I was thinking. Yep.”
“Cool. Gimme ten.”
He disappeared into his room and Shane slumped back against the railing.
Dammit. If he wasn’t careful, he was gonna end up getting his teeth kicked in.
Still, there were times he had to wonder if the attraction he was fighting was really that one-sided.
Every now and then he could swear there was heat in Matt’s eyes when he looked at him.
And that night he’d licked his lips clean of spaghetti sauce, Matt’s gaze had been glued to every movement of Shane’s tongue.
Wishful thinking? Or could this turn out to be a golden opportunity for them both? If only Matt would let his guard down long enough for Shane to find out.
* * *
Matt ripped a loud, obnoxious belch, not even bothering to cover it with his hand. He dropped his head to the back of Shane’s couch. “That was some good pizza. Is there any more? I have room now.” He rubbed his stomach, laughing at Shane’s disgusted look.
“Didn’t they teach you any manners on the farm?”
“Apparently not.”
Matt linked his hands over his belly and stared at the TV through slitted eyes as Shane aimlessly flipped through the channels.
Their laundry was done—starched, folded and ready for Monday—and the pizza was devoured.
No reason Matt couldn’t go back to his room now, except…
he didn’t want to. He should leave, especially when he remembered how his pulse had leapt at Shane’s dinner invitation earlier, how for a split-second he’d wished Shane was asking him out.
“I love Fridays,” Shane murmured from where he was ensconced in an overstuffed leather recliner, his feet up, one knee raised and waving idly back and forth.
He worked the remote with one hand, the other tucked behind his head so that his loose tank top fell to the side to reveal a firm brown nipple.
Matt’s mouth watered. Were Shane’s nipples sensitive like his own were?
Did he like them played with during sex, to have them sucked and bitten until they were swollen and throbbing?
Matt stifled a groan, grabbing for a throw pillow and putting it as casually as he could over his lap.
“You okay?”
Shane was looking over at him, and Matt was grateful as hell for the dimness that hid his face.
“Yeah,” he croaked. “Just fuckin’ full. I probably shouldn’t have eaten so much.”
With a loud yawn, Shane got more comfortable in his chair.
“We burn like six thousand calories a day, dude. We can eat whatever we want.” He pulled up his shirt and contemplated his own abs.
“No pizza showing. We’re good.” Without bothering to cover himself back up, Shane arched his back in a stretch, his low groan of contentment making Matt wonder what he’d sound like when he came.
“Shit.” Needing to get away from his increasingly carnal thoughts, Matt cast the pillow aside and stood. “I’m gonna go on home. Maybe go for a run on the beach.”
“Are you serious?” Shane gaped at him. “Take a night off, would ya? Let’s watch a movie, have a beer. It’s Friday night, for fuck’s sake. Alexis is at her boyfriend’s…”
Matt grabbed his duffel. “A beer? I don’t drink, dumbass.” And especially not around you. That’d be the height of stupidity and I’m already being stupid enough.
“Well, have another fucking soda, then!” Shane slammed the foot of his recliner down. “C’mon, Matt. Stick around and stop being such a goddamned loner for once.”
“Whatever.” Matt headed for the door, hearing Shane heave a sigh as he reached for his discarded sneakers.
“Wait for me.”
“What?”
“I have a great five-mile route around here. Let’s go. Run with me.”
Shane tied his shoes with impatient motions, grumbling something under his breath about people who didn’t know how to relax.
All Matt could do was gape at him, still clutching his duffel.
Just leave, idiot.
“You coming? Oh, wait a sec!” Shane veered off toward the laundry room and emerged a few seconds later spinning a basketball on his finger triumphantly. “There’s a little park a block over. How ’bout that rematch?”
When Matt hesitated, Shane crinkled his nose at him. “Dude, come out and play,” he wheedled. “You know you want to.”
Matt did want to, way more than he should. “Fine, whatever,” he found himself saying. Besides, what was gonna happen on a basketball court?
The night was foggy, a light rain falling as they ambled to a tiny neighborhood park a short distance from Shane’s house. It was deserted, the halogen streetlights nearby bathing everything in a soft, yellow glow.
Shane led the way toward the basketball court and started dribbling the ball. “Just a friendly game of one-on-one here, right?”
Matt nodded, plucking at his damp T-shirt, which was sticking to him in spots. Shane laughed when he noticed. “Well, once again we’re wet. If you wanna get sandy, too—” He nodded toward a large sandbox nearby, his eyes alight with mischief.
“Pass.”
“Okay.”
Shane fired the ball at him and Matt just had time to grab it before it smashed him in the face. “You asshole!”
Going into a loose guard stance, Shane beckoned to him almost lazily. “C’mon. Take your best shot.”
Matt sneered and dribbled for a minute, sizing him up, before driving toward the basket.
Shane blocked his way, an immovable force, but with some fancy footwork Matt managed to get around him.
To his disgust he missed the shot, the ball bouncing harmlessly off the rim.
Shane made no effort to snag the rebound, so Matt grabbed it and set up opposite him again.
“What the fuck? You even gonna try here?”
“Maybe.”
Their eyes met, and Shane beckoned to him again. “So…you gonna shoot?”
“When I’m damn good and ready.”
Mindlessly dribbling, Matt turned his back, tensing as he felt Shane come up behind him to raise his arms above Matt’s shoulders, moving in so close Matt could feel his heat. The smell of rain and sweat teased his nostrils.
“Get outta my way,” he mumbled.
Shane gave a low, hoarse chuckle almost directly in Matt’s ear. “Make me.”
Matt feinted to each side, which Shane countered with ease. Desperate, he spun and aimed a clumsy jump shot over Shane’s head, this time missing the basket completely. The ball bounced off into the darkness as Matt crashed hard into Shane, who staggered back and grabbed hold of Matt’s waist.
Blood roaring in his ears, Matt told himself to back off, but his legs felt weak and rubbery, refusing to obey.
“Hey, you okay? Did you twist your ankle?”
“Shit.” Matt stepped back, goosebumps springing up all over as Shane’s hands slid along his hips before dropping away. “No, I’m okay. Sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize.” Shane quirked his lips. “I kind of enjoyed it.” He trotted off to retrieve the ball, leaving Matt standing there stunned.
He enjoyed what? Touching me?
Heartbeat once again thundering in his ears, Matt took up a guard position near the basket as Shane advanced on him slowly and steadily, at the last minute evading Matt’s block to score on a perfect layup.
He flashed Matt a triumphant grin, but Matt couldn’t even be mad, engrossed as he was in watching the play of muscles in Shane’s back and shoulders, his palms still tingling from their contact with his sweaty skin.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think Shane was flirting with him…
“We gonna play ball or what?” Shane’s impatient voice had Matt glancing over at him. “I can see your abs turning to mush from here. In fact—oh my God—I think you’ve grown a potbelly.”
Despite knowing how ridiculous that was, Matt couldn’t help but look down at himself.
Shane lost it. “Hahahaha.” He cackled. “You’re too easy, Soup.”
With an annoyed huff, Matt stalked over to him. “Gimme the ball,” he snarled. “It’s my shot.”
Shane smirked at him, twirling the ball on the tip of his finger for a moment before shoving it at Matt’s chest. “Take your fucking shot.”
Matt backed up to center court. “You ready to feel some pain, clown?”
Dropping into guard stance, Shane raised his eyebrows insolently. “Nah, you’ve been on a losing streak all day. Why stop now?”
Growling, Matt drove toward the basket, but with lazy grace Shane chopped the ball out of his hands and scored. Matt fought for the rebound and faced him again, breathing hard. “So much for a ‘friendly’ game of one-on-one, huh?”
Shane grinned.
Matt hadn’t imagined basketball to be much of a contact sport before, but they managed to turn it into one, hitting each other with flagrant fouls along with elbows to the gut, pushes and shoves. It seemed to Matt that Shane was taking every opportunity he could to touch him.
“C’mon, take a shot,” Shane drawled while Matt paced back and forth at center court, dribbling, his body screaming with adrenaline and arousal. “If you make it, we’ll call it a win.”
“And what do I get if I win?” Matt had meant for the words to sound challenging, but to his horror they came out low and husky.
Shane’s nostrils flared. “Well, how ’bout you win first? Then we’ll, uh, discuss it.”
Matt’s legs felt heavy, uncoordinated, but he pushed toward the hoop at a slow lope, easily evading Shane’s half-hearted guard.
He’s letting me win.
Just as the thought flashed through his mind, his right foot slid out from under him on the slick concrete.
He flailed for purchase, the ball skittering away.
With a shout Shane lunged to grab him around the waist but Matt’s momentum was too great.
He crashed helplessly to the ground, dragging Shane along with him.
They sprawled on the wet pavement, gasping for breath.
Shane hovered above him, his face flushed with exertion, his eyelashes spiky with sweat and rain.
As they stared at each other, the desire swirling its way through Matt’s blood hit fever pitch.
His fingers tightened on Shane’s biceps, and Shane lowered his head, parting his lips…
Holy shit, he’s gonna kiss me. And I’m gonna let him.
“No,” he choked, wedging his arms in between them and shoving Shane away. “We can’t.” He stumbled to his feet and snatched the basketball up from where it had come to rest against a chain-link fence.
“Matt!”
Matt ignored him and ran as fast as he could toward Shane’s house, thanking God he hadn’t locked the door. Once inside he flung the basketball away and grabbed up his duffel, rushing back out onto the porch, only to find Shane leaning against the support, arms crossed over his chest.
Matt froze as they locked eyes, the yearning in Shane’s weakening his resolve. Backing slowly down the stairs, Matt whispered, “We can’t. You know we can’t.”
Shane didn’t try to stop him as Matt hurried to his truck and peeled away from the curb with a chirp of the tires.