He gets up before I can tell him the game doesn’t come on for another five hours and he should chill the fuck out. It’s not worth it, so I let him do his thing. Only I guess I underestimated him, because all he did was prepare everything, and said he’ll pop it in the oven before the game.
So, this is what we’re doing now, I guess.
For someone who plays hockey, he sure seems to hate anything to do with it outside of playing it.
“I’m going to shower,” I say, getting up from the couch.
“You want some help?” he calls after me. I hear the teasing in his voice. While he hasn’t outright made any advances, he still runs his mouth.
I give him the middle finger. “You wish.”
Honestly, I kind of do too.
As I’m in the shower, washing up, I think of calling him in here. It would be a tight fit in my shower. I barely fit in here, and though Alex isn’t as big as me, he’s not small, either. My mind wanders, imagining him in this space with water dripping down his face and those hard abs he’s always showing off because I swear the man’s allergic to clothes. I groan, annoyed with myself, because this is not what I came in here for.
Being with Maggie is easy because it’s what people expect. I know how to play the part. Holding her hand, throwing my arm around her, kissing her. It’s whatpeople are used to seeing. Thinking of being with Alex out in public, doing those same things, it makes me sick. Not just because it’s different, but because he’s Alex Brewer, defensemen for the Reading Rioters.
My stomach twists and I run my hands through my hair, letting out a breath. People would stare, ask questions, point fingers… I can’t handle that. And maybe it makes me a shitty person, but oh well. I am not okay with people knowing that shit about me.
If I told him to come in here and get on his knees for me, he would, and he’d never say a word about it after. But that’s fucked up on so many levels, andI know that. Not only is it cheating, but it’s awful to treat Alex that way. Only… something makes me think he’d be okay with it. But how okay? Really okay? Or okay on the outside until he has another breakdown like the other night?
I glance down at my dick that’s hard as a rock, telling me he thinks it’s worth the risk.
Well, he can fuck right off.
I finish up in the shower and get dressed, then make my way back to the living room and sit on the couch beside Alex.
“Hypothetically,” I start, turning to face him. He raises a brow. “Had I wanted your help, would you have given it?”
He stares at me, blinking, and I regret asking him immediately, but my dick is still hard and I’m not thinking clearly.
“Are you fucking joking?” he says.
“Hypothetically,” I repeat, this time really annunciating the word.
His eyes narrow, and he holds my gaze. “In what sense?”
“What would you be willing to give?” I ask, ignoring the way my dick aches.
I shouldn’t be asking him this stuff because it’s a dangerous game. Not just for Alex, but for me, too. I shouldn’t care what the answer is, but I’m curious, and it’s been a while since my dick has seen any action that it thoroughly enjoyed.
“Don’t ask me shit like that, Jordan,” he says, getting up from the couch and giving me his back. I grab his wrist and yank him toward me. He falls onto my lap, groaning—probably in pain because of his knee. Whoops.
“Why not?” I ask, my voice huskier than it was seconds ago.
Without thinking, my hand finds his knee, fingers sliding along his skin. I lightly rub, careful not to apply pressure. He’s so close I can smell his minty breath. His gaze flicks to my mouth.
“Because it’s not fair,” he whispers.
“Is it fair if I let you suck my dick?”
He whines as he turns away from me. “Stop.” The word is weak, and I know he doesn’t mean it. I am curious as to why he’s telling me no, though. That is not what I expected him to say.
“Okay,” I say, letting go of his hand and pushing him off me. “It was all hypothetical, anyway.”
I don’t miss the bulge in his pants as he adjusts himself before he walks away. And I know it won’t be much longer before things with Alex and I get out of control.
My life is already shit, so what’s the harm in fucking it up a little more? At least it’ll be good.
