The sight of his rippling chest made my mouth start to water. I never bothered to watch porn anymore, because I had my heart’s desire any time I wanted. Right in my own bed.
“Take your clothes off,” he said. Just the rough sound of his voice was enough to get me fired up. I didn’t do it right away, because I was busy watching him unbuckle his belt. The jeans fell away from his lean hips, and I could see a prominent bulge in his briefs. “Clothes off. Now,” he repeated.
This time, I’d listened, shedding my T-shirt and my boxers in record time. I was naked against the sheets, with his muscular body stalking toward me. He’d worn a determined look in his eye.
Sexiest. Thing. Ever.
He put a knee on the bed, and I could have watched his shoulder muscles pop all night as he crawled over me. Those big brown eyes appeared only inches above me, and my whole body tingled, anticipating him. When I was sure I couldn’t wait any longer, he dropped his sinful mouth over mine. And we weregone. All rational thought fled, as we nipped and licked and manhandled one another.
There was nothing like it. And the fact that I’d spent years trying to talk myself out of this was frankly astonishing.
Afterwards, we lay entwined, his arms around me. It took a minute or five until we were both breathing normally again. But then Rikker said, “Did you see that slapshot that Trevi bounced off Orson’s glove at practice?”
I laughed. “He was so pissed.”
“That’s because Orson owes Trevi acaseof Red Stripe now, because they went double-or-nothing from last week’s bet.”
I put my head on Rikker’s chest, where I could hear the sound of his voice rumbling beneath my ear. The truth was that this part of the night mattered as much to me as the sex. Rikker and I always lay here talking about everything and nothing. Sports. School. Whatever.
Before, I was so used to being lonely that I’d barely noticed. My teammates were always around. But Rikker was the only person alive who knew my secrets. In bed with him, I talked more freely than I ever did with anyone else. I joked more. I felt lighter.
I was in love with Rikker, and had been forever. I didn’t tell him, though. I mean, this ismewe’re talking about here. The usual coward. Rikker would have liked to hear it, I’m sure. And I would have liked to hear it back. But me being me, that wasn’t going to happen.
He loved me too, I guess. He’d have to, right? Why else would he stay with my cowardly ass, and sneak around like a stalker every time he needed to use the john? In the locker room he ignored me, as I needed him to. And — this was my worst sin — when someone made a fag joke, I said nothing at all. That’s how I repaid Rikker’s nighttime affection during the daylight hours. With my silence.
But at night, we held each other. We whispered and laughed, and we kissed until our lips were bruised. We worked our way through a serious stash of condoms, and then bought more. In the mornings, he stole out of my room before daybreak. That kind of sucked, because I would have liked to wake up next to him.
I just didn’t want it badly enough to ask him to stay.
Meanwhile, the team continued to kick ass. For the first time in fifty years, Harkness was ranked number two in the country. With six games left in our regular season, there was a good chance we’d go far during the postseason.
The first weekend of February, we took a road trip to Cambridge, where we defeated Harvard five to nothing in front of a giant crowd. That felt damned good. When we got back on the bus after a late pizza dinner, Bella sat down beside me. “Hey, Graham. How are you doing?”
It took me a second to reply, because I was texting Rikker, who was somewhere in the front of the bus.Good game, I’d teased him.Next time you might even score. Because Rikker had a tricky night. All his best shots on goal had been thwarted.
Nice, came his reply.Tho there are other ways 2 score.
We used a separate messaging app to talk to each other, in case anyone (like Bella) ever looked too closely at my phone. I killed the app, stuffed the phone in my pocket and turned to her. “Sorry, what was the question?”
She studied me for a moment. “I just asked how you were.”
“Good.”
She smirked. “I can see that. A little distracted, maybe?”
I just shrugged.
“Who is she?”
Ah. I gave Bella an innocent smile. “What do you mean?”
There was a silence while she watched me for another long moment. “You aren’t drinking so much these days. And you always have your phone in your face. Is it anyone I know?”
Again, I just shrugged, which was probably going to infuriate her. But there was no helping it.
“Spill, Graham.”
“Nothing to spill, Bells.”
