Chapter 9
Ramsey’s night ended up being a four-point night, and Nate had demurred to join them for a drink after the game.
Nobody was particularly surprised. Trevor wasn’t even disappointed, though he liked Lane’s best friend a lot and obviously Ramsey, too.
He also wasn’t disappointed when everyone agreed to head back home instead of going out, him and Lane in the dimly lit back seat of Aidan’s SUV.
“You have fun?” Trevor asked him when they were more than halfway back to Toronto.
For the first part of the drive, they’d all chatted about the game.
About practices. About tomorrow’s slate of playoff games, one of which would decide who they played the following week.
But now, Aidan and Levi were having one of those very coupley shorthand conversations about their plans for the week and it made Trevor feel alternately envious and like he was eavesdropping when he shouldn’t.
“Yeah, of course.” Lane glanced over at him. “You?”
If Trevor was being totally honest, a significant portion of his enjoyment had been because of who he’d been with, and the way the whole evening had been framed. Like it was a double date.
He’d never imagined he’d want to date Lane. But then he’d never really let himself contemplate having sex with Lane either, and that had practically changed his whole opinion on sex.
“Definitely,” Trevor said. Then hesitated.
He didn’t want to ask. Maybe he shouldn’t even ask while they were in the car with Aidan and Levi—but it was so obvious that much of the time, those two were lost in their own little world—but he wanted to know.
It felt like a piece of a puzzle that he’d discovered on the floor, that he hadn’t even known was missing, but now that he had it, he was desperate to know where it fit.
“What is it?” Lane clearly could tell something was bothering him, and his forehead creased as he leaned in a bit closer to Trevor, his voice dropping.
“I just . . . I like you, you know? I didn’t even know I did, until I did, but it makes everything different. Better.”
“Better, huh?” Lane looked unexpectedly pleased. Not freaked out, so that was good.
“All of it, really. It’s hard for me to .
. . I don’t always want people, not like everyone else does.
But I want you.” Trevor tried not to squirm or look away.
There was a vulnerable part of him that didn’t want Lane to know how different it was.
How special this had turned out to be, because what if this was just Lane enjoying himself?
Lane leaned in closer, mouth nearly grazing Trevor’s ear. “I want you too,” he said.
Trevor had been trying so hard not to ask this, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he couldn’t keep the question in any longer. “Do you like me, too?”
Lane hadn’t looked surprised by any of this up until now, but he reared back at that question, not just surprised, but shocked.
“What?” he muttered.
It was Trevor’s first instinct to yank it right back, say never mind, and I didn’t mean it, but he had meant it. He wanted to know. He thought so, but for so long he hadn’t been sure and it would absolutely suck if he found out Lane didn’t like him. If he only liked getting naked with him.
“How can you even ask that?” Lane continued, and there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes now.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Uh,” Trevor said.
Of course that was the moment Aidan turned the corner and pulled up to the front of their building.
“Give us a good Uber rating, okay?” Levi chirped from the front seat.
Trevor rolled his eyes, reaching up to pat Levi on the shoulder. “How about a thanks for the ride?”
“Works for me,” Aidan said. “See you guys Monday?”
“Yeah,” Lane agreed, and they slid out of the car.
Trevor kept expecting Lane to say something the whole way inside their building, even during the ride up in the elevator, which they had to themselves. But Lane didn’t, and Trevor didn’t know what to say. He felt like he’d already said too much, bringing it up in the first place.
He should’ve just kept swallowing that question back down.
Kept going with the assumption that Lane had led with, weeks ago: that whatever Trevor wanted was available for him to take. What did liking him have to do with any of that?
The problem was that for Trevor, that seemed to be integral.
He’d spent the last few weeks not just enjoying how good his hookups with Lane were, but going over and over in his mind the differences to the other times he’d had sex.
The similarities, too. He didn’t think it was just because Lane was a guy and he preferred sex with guys—easily the second-best sex hadn’t even been with his ex-girlfriend, but with another friend, someone he’d known for a long time, maybe a year after he and Sophie had broken up.
He hadn’t been in love with the friend, hadn’t really even had a crush on her, but he’d loved her and liked her, and for him, it seemed that was the key difference.
He’d never been able to fully trust Sophie. She’d done too many things, said too much, that had always made Trevor think that she was in it for the future payoff of being an NFL player’s wife.
On paper, they’d made sense, and he’d gotten the feeling that him not dating set him apart in an uncomfortable way, which was the only reason he’d stuck to the charade for as long as he had.
But Lane was different. Trevor liked him and was totally attracted to him, and it seemed that was the magic combination that unlocked all these new desires inside of Trevor.
Maybe if that wasn’t the case, Trevor would’ve cared less if Lane liked him. But he did, and there was no use pretending otherwise.
Trevor turned this over in his head as they walked down the hallway to Lane’s condo. Lane unlocked the door, and Trevor kind of assumed that Lane wouldn’t say anything, because Trevor’s question had upset him. Though he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure why.
But he was wrong.
The moment the door was closed behind Trevor, Lane turned and pushed right into his space. Pushed Trevor right up against the wood. Trevor gazed up at him, helplessly caught and not mad about it at all.
“Do you really not think I like you?” Lane asked quietly.
“Uh.” Trevor wasn’t sure there was enough blood in his brain to have a rational conversation about this; before Lane had pushed his body between his own and the door, sure. But now? Ha.
“You asked,” Lane reminded him.
“Only because that’s like . . . a big part of it for me.” He hesitated and then tacked on a totally unnecessary, “I think, anyway.”
“You think?”
Trevor gave Lane a little push, suddenly annoyed that Lane was just going to hold him here and not only not do anything about it, but not even answer his questions, as stupid as they were. But of course, Lane didn’t budge, and that wasn’t hot at all.
Nope.
“Pretty sure, okay?” Trevor said. “I feel so comfortable with you. And when you said I can do whatever I want, that makes me feel safe but also free. Then there’s the fact that I like spending time with you, and you’re attractive, and .
. . yeah, it all adds up to, well, to what we’re doing. How much I’m enjoying it.”
Lane’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. Trevor tracked the movement and considered following up his terrible word vomit with a kiss, because that had to be better than continuing to talk about this.
“I like you, okay? I like you, God, I like you the most, Trev.” Lane said it so quietly that Trevor almost missed it, nearly under his breath.
“Oh.” Trevor’s tongue felt tied. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Lane was flushed now.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Why did you stay away for so long if that was true? Or is it new? Why did you get so prickly every time we got closer?
Lane looked away. “I didn’t think . . . it’s weird, isn’t it?”
The laugh Trevor let out was a gust of relief more than actual amusement. “How is it weird? We’re already having sex.”
And then it occurred to him after he said it that maybe Lane had felt this way before they’d had sex. Long enough before that maybe it had been weird. Maybe that might even explain Lane’s prickliness.
Had he liked Trevor for awhile now? For a long time, even?
From the way Lane wouldn’t look at him, gaze sliding away, Trevor was suddenly, horribly sure that this was the answer.
“Wait, did you like me before we started having sex?”
“Yes,” Lane said and kissed him.
Trevor was ninety-nine percent sure that the kiss was a diversionary tactic, and it was annoying how well it worked because, with Lane’s tongue in his mouth and his hands rucking up under his sweatshirt, feeling the bare skin of his stomach, fingertips stroking all the way down to his hips, it was difficult to care about anything else.
He could feel Lane’s cock pressing into his hip, and Trevor gasped when Lane broke the kiss, lips sliding down and sucking right in the curve of his neck in the way that always made him crazy.
Or, had it? Or was it just Lane kissing him there that made him crazy?
Was it that spot or maybe it was just Lane?
Trevor decided that the logic behind it didn’t matter, only that it was happening.
“Come on,” he begged, “I want you.”
Lane pulled back, those incredible aqua eyes nearly swallowed by pupil. “What do you want?”
You, you, you.
But Trevor couldn’t say that because Lane had made it clear that he was the one to ask for what he wanted. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t turn that on its head.
He leaned in, watching as Lane’s breath caught, and for the first time, Trevor thought, he really means it; he likes me the most. “I want you to do what you want,” he murmured.
Trevor hadn’t realized how much Lane had been holding back, not until he kissed him then, ferociously, passion pouring into Trevor’s mouth.
His head hit the back of the door and he groaned deeply. His fingertips dug into Lane’s scalp, sifting his hair through them as Lane sank to his knees, right fucking there, like he couldn’t wait a moment longer to get Trevor’s cock in his mouth.