17. Lucas
Lucas
Cam wasn’t responding to my texts, so I got out of bed, pulled some shorts on, and knocked on the door to Colton and Zeph’s suite. Hopefully they and Ty were awake, and if not, then my knocking would do the trick.
“Morning, bro.” Ty greeted me with a smile. His hair was long enough now that he had it braided to the side.
I was about to ask where the other two were but they came out of the bathroom, draped in only towels before I could. From the look of it, I’d guess they had just been fucking.
“Aw, mornin’ cowboy! You’re about ten minutes too late if you were lookin’ for some fun.”
“I think he had plenty of fun last night from the sound of it,” Zeph reached over to pinch his boyfriend’s nipple.
“You were listening? You guys couldn’t have watched a loud movie or something?” I turned to look at Ty.
“Don’t look at me. I had headphones on, bro.”
“So we weren’t supposed to jack off to it?” Zeph raised his eyebrows at me, then dropped his towel as he sauntered over to the dresser. I averted my eyes, though my peripheral vision was still full. Hard not to be when it’s that big.
“I don’t know how you play football with that in your pants,” I said.
“Doesn’t your boyfriend have any modesty?” Ty asked, then under his breath added, “I’ll be glad when I’m back in your room. Declan would kill me if he knew the number of times they’ve been naked around me.”
“Modesty is for people with small dicks.” Zeph ignored my comment and didn’t let Colton answer Ty’s question.
I glanced in Colton’s direction and he just smiled and shrugged.
And dropped his towel.
“Do you guys want me to leave you my number?”
Both Ty and I turned towards the bathroom, where a curly-haired blond was standing, wearing a pair of denim cut-offs and a cropped t-shirt.
Colton, still naked, walked over to the twink, and said, “Sure thing, princess.”
“Ugh, let’s go.” I grabbed Ty’s hand and pulled him through the door to my room.
While Ty picked through his duffle bag looking for his outfit for the day, I checked my phone. Again. Still nothing.
“What’s up? You seem tense,” Ty asked before pulling on faded almost torn-to-shreds jeans. I could see half his thigh through one of the legs.
I had to admit, despite Ty not being an active gymnast anymore, he still had the body.
“What?”
I smiled. “Nothing. Declan’s just a lucky guy is all.”
“Bro. You tryin’ to make me cry?” Ty joked. “And I’m the lucky one.”
We both found shirts, then tried to decide if we wanted to invite the penile peacocks to breakfast.
“At least they have to keep their clothes on in public,” Ty said.
I wasn’t so sure. This was San Francisco after all.
“How many of them are left for you to deflower?” I asked, before cutting another piece off my cinnamon roll. They were my favorite breakfast food and this place did not disappoint. They had an extensive list of pastries they served like appetizers before your actual breakfast.
“We’re not deflowering any of them-”
“That we know of,” Colton added.
“They’re porn stars,” Zeph said, “and based on their skills, I’d say it’s highly unlikely that any of them were virgins.”
“I reckon that’s true. And to answer your question, Luke, we have two left.”
“These sticky buns are amazing,” Zeph changed the subject.
“You mean cinnamon rolls?” I asked.
“You keep your cinnamon roll.” Zeph scoffed.
“I’ll take my sticky buns. Kind of like this morning.
” Zeph winked and leaned over to give Colton’s neck a quick suck, causing him to drop his fork.
A few heads turned at the noise and stared for a little longer than was polite.
But that was Colton and Zeph. They liked the attention.
“Stop it. You’re gonna leave a hickey. I can’t be on national television with a hickey.”
Zeph pulled back. “What? I swear you’ve already been on national television with a hickey. That little thing called the Super Bowl.”
“Yup, and Madison and Beau wouldn’t stop teasin’ me about it for a month.”
“Fine.” Zeph relented and took another bite of his sticky bun.
“Holy shit.”
My gaze snapped over to Ty, who was holding his phone. I could read the headline.
American Gymnast Caught Doping: Banned from Olympics.
“What?” Colton and Zeph both asked as I struggled to pull my phone out.
“Who is it?” I asked, a cold dread destroying any warm fuzzies the cinnamon roll had left inside me. The seconds I waited felt like hours.
“Preston. That’s it. That’s all it looks like. Preston was caught doping and he’s banned from the Olympics.”
“Cam’s not answering.” I hung up.
“Of course, he’s not answering. This story leaked. Martin’s going to be livid,” Ty said.
“Martin?” Zeph asked, looking over at Colton’s phone.
“Coach Woodward,” Colton answered, likely searching for the story. “Well, shit, the cheese just fell off his cracker.”
I’d almost feel sorry for him if he wasn’t such an asshole. Cam must be beside himself. I wondered-
“Did the team still make the finals?” I practically knocked Ty off his chair.
He shrugged. “I left my tablet at the hotel. I don’t know, maybe? The article doesn’t say.”
I tried calling Cam again. Nothing.
The server brought our breakfast plates out, but I didn’t feel like eating. I needed to be with Cam. I needed to know how he was feeling. I needed to be there for him.
Ty’s hand on my leg brought me back to the room.
“I’m sure Cam’s fine. He’s with the team. They’re gonna have to address this now that it’s out. Coach is probably setting up a press conference or an interview as we speak.”
“Why?” Colton asked. “There’s no point closin’ the barn door. The horse already ran.”
“You know why, Colt. They have to try to control the story, put on a unified front, like when our QB was caught with that male escort.”
“The prostitute, you mean?” Colton replied.
“This is a little more serious than that,” I said.
“It was pretty serious for the quarterback’s wife!”
I smirked at that. I bet it was a shock for her, but at least her husband kept playing. I wondered if Dmitry was just as surprised or if he was the one pushing Preston to dope.
“Well, let’s just try to enjoy breakfast,” Ty said. “We can head back to the hotel and relax there. I’m sure Cam will call or text before long, and I can try Martin as well, though I doubt he’ll answer.”
“Okay.” I nodded and cut into my chocolate chip pancake.
At least not being an Olympian tasted good.
I felt like I had already gained five pounds and it had only been a few days.
To be fair, I had gone from training my ass off every day to just getting my ass fucked.
And while my sex life may not have changed much thanks to Cam’s strength and ingenuity, I missed the gym.
Even knowing this was going to be my last Olympics, I hadn’t planned on letting my body go. That was kind of why this pancake felt so decadent. My love of chocolate overrode my worry. Besides, one pancake wasn’t going to unravel a lifetime of muscles.
I took a deep breath and another bite while the others speculated about Preston.
I knew I could pursue my love for animals in the nearby parks system - the Tampa Bay area had so many opportunities - but I also thought about starting a gymnastics camp or helping out our college’s team.
I hadn’t fully decided yet. I’d have to see how recovery went now. That might limit my choices.
I practically leapt onto my phone when it buzzed, but it was Heather.
Heather: Have you heard from Cam?
Heather: I just saw the story about Preston.
Luke: He didn’t answer when I tried him.
Heather: Same. Let me know if you hear something.
Luke: I’m worried too. I’ll let you know.
Heather: Love you.
Luke: Love you too.
She always texted that at the end of the conversation, and you had to text it back.
I had learned that the hard way. Well, Cam told me to and I ignored him, and then I didn’t hear the end of it the next time I saw her.
Over time, the words had come true. I did love her and it was clear that she saw me as a second son.
I almost dropped my phone, grabbing it off the table. It was Cam’s ringtone.
“Hello?!”
“Hey, tiger. I'm guessing you've seen the headlines? They just told us it leaked.”
“Yeah, you okay? How’s the team?”
“Is that Cam?”
“What’s he-?”
I made a slice across my neck and gave them my best death glare. I could barely hear Cam over their chorus of inquiries.
“Sorry about that. The guys are just as curious as I am. Everything okay?” I realized that sounded ridiculous as soon as it left my mouth. “I mean, obviously everything isn’t okay, but are you doing alright?”
“Yeah.” He let out a huge sigh. “It’s been quite a morning.
Another awkward piss in front of a stranger.
Although this one introduced himself, which made it marginally less uncomfortable.
I was the last one to show up, so when I met the rest of the guys, we figured it was Preston.
He wasn't there, and then Coach confirmed it a few minutes later.”
“And then the story leaked?”
“Exactly. We’re staying here for a bit longer. They’re bringing someone in to do an interview with us now. Distance ourselves from him, mention the new round of tests and make sure to reiterate that our other ones came back clean.”
“Why did Preston’s take so long?” I asked.
The guys were nearby, listening.
“His original test was flagged for something additional that took longer, I guess. At least, that’s what they told us and what they want us to say in the interview.”
“So, no press conference?”
“Coach said it would be too chaotic. They don’t want some drama-chaser to stir up shit. They’re giving the interviewer a list of questions, and then she can come up with three of her own that need to be pre-approved.”
I grunted in reply.
“Agreed. We didn’t do anything wrong, so I’m not sure why they’re being like this, but the reputation of American gymnastics is on the line, according to Georgina Madsen.”
“How is Her Royal Highness?” I had met her once. She reminded me of my parents: married into new money, but accompanied by the ego of old.