7. Jonah
CHAPTER SEVEN
jonah
So this week has gone way better than expected. Calvin and I are gelling well on the field. He blocks well for me, and I have no doubt when our first game comes next week, we’ll be unstoppable.
Off the field? Yeah, that’s nonexistent. And I should be okay with that. Sure, I used to hang out with my teammates quite a bit in Texas, and if I’m being honest, I miss that. I’m a social guy. I thrive on being around others.
The problem is I couldn’t give a fuck about the rest of the team. My mind seems to be firmly planted on only one of my teammates, and he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
Our last conversation about anything other than a play on the football field was in the locker room when he told me not to push the bullies. I’m tempted to pick a fight with Shields and Adler just to get Calvin to talk to me, but they’ve been fairly quiet this week, and I’m enjoying that too much.
Still, I can’t get him out of my head. Thinking about that day in the locker room, him still sopping wet and dressed only in a towel, trying to lecture me on not taunting the bullies and then they’ll go away—as if that’s really how bullies work. It’s amazing I managed any words at all.
I’m almost positive he was hard beneath that towel of his, but I forced myself not to look.
To not offer to help him out with that. Because even if he was interested, with the amount of repression this guy is dealing with, there was a fifty-fifty chance between him accepting or me getting knocked out.
Well honestly, with this one . . . probably about thirty-seventy.
Every night since, though, has been spent with my hand wrapped around my stiff cock, replaying the way his muscles rippled, all wet and sexy and begging to be licked until I come with his name only a whisper on my lips.
It’s becoming a problem.
One I should probably try to rid myself of, but me being me, I can’t seem to do that.
I finish dressing just in time to see Calvin buttoning his jeans, still shirtless as he shuffles through his bag trying to find a shirt to cover that delicious chest. He stops, catching me ogling him and raises a suspicious brow in my direction. “What?”
Okay, dummy. Look away. Walk away. Do something other than saying what’s on your mind right now.
“What are you doing now?”
His brow is permanently furrowed in my direction now. “Getting dressed?”
He finds a shirt and pulls it on, while I silently mourn all that nakedness and snort. “I mean after you get dressed.”
Some of the guys are still around, but I don’t think anyone is paying attention to our conversation. I wouldn’t care if they were though—but I know Calvin would. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I ask, not surprised, honestly, but wanting to know more. “It’s Friday night. We don’t have a game.”
“So?” he asks, his face scrunched in annoyance.
“So.” I stand up confidently, wanting him to trust me, and sling my gym bag and backpack over my shoulder. “We should hang out.”
He looks horrified. Definitely not how I wanted him to look when I asked him to hang out with me, but it’s fine. “What? No,” he says, grabbing his own bag and pulling the strap over his shoulder, then heading for the door.
Too bad for him, I’m really fast and catch up with him just as he pushes through the heavy metal doors of the gym. I fall into step next to him as we walk toward the parking lot. “Why not?”
“What do you mean? Why would we hang out?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
He stops walking and turns to look at me as I do the same. “We aren’t friends. This isn’t a thing.”
The right side of my mouth ticks upward in a flirty grin—and yes, I know that’s dangerous and reckless—but I can’t help it. He looks so cute, all big and flustered. “Why not?”
His mouth is stuck in a scowl, but I think he’s thinking about it. Perhaps wondering why he’s fighting me so hard, just like I am. He needs a friend. That much is clear. Everyone needs a friend, and I can be that for him.
Sure, I wouldn’t mind licking him, but that’s . . . totally fine. I can take it or leave it. Although I much prefer taking it, if I’m honest. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m drawn to him. That I want to be his friend and get to know him, despite not understanding why that is.
I’ve always kind of been like that. I like the underdog—the outcast. I don’t like the idea of anyone sitting alone, so I was always the one to join the lonely. And no matter what Calvin Duke wants me to believe—he’s the loneliest of the lonely.
“I have shit to do.”
“On a Friday night?” I ask, not trying to accuse him of lying to me, but come on.
“Yeah. Lots of shit,” he mumbles, starting off again toward his truck—which is conveniently parked next to mine.
“Homework?” I ask.
He thinks it over for a minute and must decide that will appease me because he nods. “Yup. Lots of homework.”
“Cool,” I say, unlocking my truck. “I have some too. I was going to wait until Sunday night, but you can be my accountability partner and make me less of a slacker. My house or your house?”
He nearly trips over his own feet, and I smile but manage not to laugh. “What? No. I’m not your accountability partner. This is not a thing.”
Goddamn, he really is cute when he’s flustered. I bite my bottom lip and then can’t help the snicker that leaves my mouth. “Why not?”
“Stop saying the same thing over and over.” His hand waves as he unlocks his truck and tosses his bags into the passenger seat, but he’s not climbing in and driving away. Oh yeah, he wants a friend.
“Why?” I say, knowing I’m poking the bear a little bit here, but I can’t help it. Again—adorable.
His face turns red and he sputters, “Because it’s annoying.”
I laugh. “So if we go to my house, there are two adorable little gremlins there who will likely be all over you—literally because they love to use people as a jungle gym, but they’re cute as hell.
And there will also be a really sweet, really nosey woman there who’ll probably ask you so many questions you’ll for sure feel annoyed.
But I think you’ll like her, and my brother probably won’t be home for another hour because he always has admin shit to do after practice.
” I shrug. “Or we can go to your place if it’s quieter because one thing my brother’s house isn’t is quiet. ”
And I secretly love it. In my house, growing up with so many siblings, you’d think it was loud all the time.
But silence was golden. Children were seen and not heard.
All that religious bullshit that makes my stomach hurt to think about.
It was not a happy home, but Micah’s house is a very happy home.
“I’m not going to Coach’s house,” he says, but his feet don’t move. He’s not hopping into his truck to drive away, and I call his bluff.
“Okay, cool. Your house it is.” I hop into my truck but don’t close the door, and sure enough, he’s there in a flash, standing right next to me with that look of horror.
“No. We aren’t going to my house.”
“Okay, cool.” I shrug, trying to play it cool. “My house it is then.” I reach out to grab the door handle that his big body is blocking, and my hand brushes the denim of his jeans in the slightest contact, making him jolt.
Phew, the guy is a live wire. I can’t say for sure, but I’m almost positive he feels this electric charge between us. My mind goes to what it would be like if he would just let go for a moment. What would happen if he just leaned down and stole into my mouth.
My entire body lights up with the simple fantasy, but I don’t like the worried look on his face. Is it because I touched him? Or the thought of us hanging out? I don’t know, but I don’t want him to be worried.
I don’t want to cause him any actual discomfort.
I want to be his sanctuary, not his hell.
I keep my voice low as I look up at him.
“Just follow me.” It’s supposed to be a command, but it’s a question because, at the end of the day, I don’t want to be too much of a pushy asshole. I want him to want to hang out with me.
If anything else happens—well, that’s just a bonus. It’s not like I’ll die if he doesn’t kiss me. I’m not that dramatic.
I almost miss it when he steps back, but he gives me a slight nod and then walks to his truck and climbs in. I close my door and start my truck, waiting for him to do the same before I pull out of the parking spot.
He’s behind me when we pull out of the lot, and holy hell—he’s following me. This is actually happening.
He’s coming over to my house.
Now, I just have to convince him we can be friends.