11. Anyone Want A Sausage?
11
Anyone Want A Sausage?
Clayton
T he rest of our evening was filled with tension—both awkward and sexual—so thick you could cut it with a knife. No matter how hard I tried to get the same smile I saw earlier that day I just couldn’t do it. Not after I ordered his favorite pizza for dinner, not when I said we could watch Love Island —which I’ve never seen a straight man watch that show, but that’s neither here nor there—and not even when I offered to cuddle when we went to bed. That one was a major loss for him there because I am a top-tier big spoon.
1 It was all worth it, though. What may have started as a game to show Rocky that he’s not the only one who’s having those thoughts, very quickly turned into quite possibly the hottest five minutes of my entire life. And all I was doing was touching myself.
Just knowing he was on the other side of that door, listening to my every moan and whimper, got me more and more turned on until I wasn’t even acting anymore. The entire show was all for him, and I’d gladly let him listen in any time.
Fuck, if only I could get someone else to listen in while he was the one touching me .
The thought has me tightening my grip on the steering wheel while trying to keep my rapidly growing dick at bay. If I get hard in this car, Rocky will one hundred percent open the passenger door and jump out of it.
“Down, boy,” I whisper softly while looking down at the crotch of my jeans.
“What did you say?”
The sound of Rocky’s voice is enough to startle all thoughts of fucking him in public away because that’s the first time he’s spoken a word since we got in the car to drive back to Pensacola. He hasn’t mentioned last night, and I sure as shit am not going to be the one to bring it up. The fact that he didn’t check into another hotel room last night was a miracle in and of itself.
“I said, ‘Oh boy.’” He pinches his brow in confusion. “I’m starving. Do you want to stop and grab some breakfast? We never ate before we left, and this big boy’s got to eat.” I dramatically rub my stomach.
Rocky’s eyes darken slightly at the nickname, but I wisely choose not to comment on it. “Can’t you just wait until we get back? I gotta hurry up and get home. I have to uh—study.”
He doesn’t have to study shit.
“Awe, come on, Rocky. I could go for a good sausage.” He snaps his head back toward me, eyes wide. “What? You don’t like sausage? I loooove sausage?”
I can tell he’s doing everything in his power to not laugh. “Clayton…” he warns.
“If you aren’t sure, you could always try mine first to see if you like it.”
Rocky tips his head back against the seat and lets out a loud laugh. Not even caring if we crash and die, I pull my eyes from the road and watch the entire thing, letting the sounds falling from his lips seep into the very fiber of my bones. Hoping that if I focus hard enough, the beautiful and rare sound can somehow become a part of me. When he gets his breathing under control, he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes and is still grinning from ear to ear. “Would you shut the fuck up and drive the car.”
“The first part is highly unlikely; the second part should be no problem.”
Still leaning against the headrest, he rolls his head to the side so he’s facing me. “Really? Because that would mean you need to look at the road.”
“I know.” I let my stare linger a second longer, taking in everything that is this moment before turning to look back at the road.
A few more minutes go by when my phone rings through the car. I groan when I see my dad’s name on the screen on the dash. I already avoided him all day yesterday; there’s no way I’m getting out of it today. “You can answer it if you need to. I’d hate to miss a call from my old man.”
“Trust me. I wouldn’t hate it in the slightest.” Rocky looks at me quizzically before I accept the call.
“It’s about time you picked up the phone that I paid for,” he bites out before I even have the chance to say hello. Instead of sinking back into his seat like everyone else does at the sound of my father’s voice, Rocky sits up straighter. “I tried to call Coach Taylor when you didn’t answer, but he said he wasn’t even at the scrimmage. What is that about? ”
“He didn’t need to be there. It was just a simple scrimmage. Rocky and I had it handled.”
“You and Rocky?” The disdain in his voice is crystal clear.
“Yes. Me and Rocky.”
“What did I tell you about that Campos kid? He’s not going to help you get to the top, Clayton.”
If Rocky is hurt by my dad’s words, he doesn’t show it. His entire body remains still and steady. “And what did I tell you? There was no one else to partner with. He and I were each other’s only choice. We’re good, Dad. We’re great actually. We lost the first set but that’s just because we were getting our feet under us. We absolutely dominated the second and third, and—”
“You lost the first set?” he booms. “Jax would have never let you lose against Destin. And what’s going on in your economics class? I checked your grades this morning, and it says you’re getting an eighty-five percent. You’re better than that, Clayton.”
I can feel the tightness in my chest start to set in, my hands are growing sweaty as they grip the steering wheel harder and harder, and I can feel the water stinging at my eyes. Before I can open my mouth to respond, Rocky’s deep voice wraps around me like a blanket. “Yeah, uh, Mr. Aldrich, this is Rockwell Campos. Clay will have to call you back later. We’re about to stop for some sausage. Have a good day!”
Rocky hits the end-call button, and I immediately feel like I can breathe. “Well, your dad is just… lovely .”
“If he didn’t like you before, he definitely doesn’t now.”
“Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to lose any sleep over it.”
Not knowing how to respond, and my mind to busy swimming with thoughts of my father, we sit for a few moments in silence. Much to my surprise though, Rocky’s the first to cave.
I know it’s because he’s feeling sorry for me, but I can’t really find it in me to care.
“What sign are you?” he asks. The totally random question causes a small smile to tug at the corners of my lips.
“A Leo. Why?”
“Oh my god.” His light chuckle causes the frost that was forming over my heart due to my dad’s call to thaw. “Of course you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“Clay.” He stares at me deadpan. “You are the leoist leo that ever leoed.”
He’s not wrong, but I’m not telling him that .
“Alright then, smartass. What are you?”
“I’m an Aquarius.” He crosses his arms and puffs his chest out with pride.
The scoff that leaves my lips could be heard a mile away. “Oh, I’m Rocky. I’m quiet and hard to read, and I never speak my feelings because god forbid people know what I’m thinking,” I mock.
He glares at me before relenting. “Okay, that’s fair.”
“That’s what I thought. Wait. If your an Aquarius when is your birthday?”
Rocky rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, next Saturday. The seventeenth.”
It just so happens I have exactly zero things planned next weekend. Not even a game or practice. How… serendipitous.
As if he can see the gears turning in my brain, he points his finger right at me. “Clay. Don’t you do anything or I swear—”
“Oh don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m not going to do anything.”
I’m totally throwing him a party.
1. What Do You Mean - Justin Bieber