“I’m into your dick.”
“Are you sure?” He has no idea how into him I am, and I’m going to make it my life’s mission to show him just what he does to me every single day.
“I’m into your everything. Every single part of you does it for me. From your crop tops to those fucking holes in your jeans to the little smile with dimples you get when you’re happy but don’t want anyone to know. The way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. How you’ve always taken care of me even when I had nothing to offer in return?—”
“Hey. No. I don’t accept that. You’ve always returned what I do for you.”
“You let me move in when I had nowhere to go.” Let alone living with him for all of college. He doesn’t charge Seaborn or me. We’re both in better places for having that.
He laughs. “For someone so observant, you’re completely missing the mark on this one.”
“What am I missing?”
“You gave me a safe space to be myself before I even knew what that meant. You stood up for me to every team we played on together. You never let anyone treat me different or call me a slur, and you made them see me for the player I was, not some ignorant definition of masculinity. You gave me a home before I ever gave you one.” He wipes his face on my Under Armor.
I slip a hand into his hair. “You’re my home, too. You always have been.”
“I can’t believe I’m crying. Fuck being emotional, and you’re never allowed to get hurt again.” He’s laughing now, too.
“I’ll do my best not to.”
“Good.”
“And as surprising as it is to everyone involved, I’m very much into your dick.”
He turns his face up to kiss me. “I believe you.”
We wait ages until the curtain is pulled back again.
“Finally,” Archangel says, but it’s not the doctor.
My father stands there, taking in Archangel laying on me.
Fucking great.
THIRTY-NINE
WOLFE
“Dad.” I try to sit up. “What are you doing here?”
Archangel not so gracefully falls out of the hospital bed, getting to his feet.
“The team called me. I’m your emergency contact.”
I need to change that immediately. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to come.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You could have called.” I go to reach in my pocket and realize all my shit got left in the locker room. Coach probably has it?
Dad doesn’t say a word, letting me work through it on my own.
“I don’t have my phone.”
“And it’s dead. I missed the first call from your team, and no one answered when I called back. The hospital also wouldn’t release anything to me, even after I told them who I was.” Dad hates when his badge doesn’t open whatever door he wants.
“HIPAA is a thing, and I’m an adult.”
