"Yeah." I strapped my feet back in. Grabbed the handle. "Just between us for now?"
"Of course, your business." He nodded and put his earbud back in, then opened his laptop.
Then, without looking up: "You and Harrington are rowing the best boat on this river right now. Don't let the off-the-water shit wreck the on-the-water stuff."
"I won't."
"Good."
He hit play on his footage. I pulled. The flywheel spun up. The chain rattled.
And I rowed for another thirty minutes in the quiet boathouse with the one person on the team I didn't have to lie to, and it felt like the first full breath I'd taken all week.
***
Dorm room. Late. Noah was at the library—debate prep session that would probably go until midnight, because Noah treated preparation like a competitive sport.
I lay in bed. Clean from the shower. Muscles aching. Phone in my hand and horny.
The problem with rowing with Alex every morning was that I barely got to see him. He was always behind me in the boat. But it was the moments off the water that killed me. Alex climbing out of the boat, shirt soaked through, the fabric clinging to his chest. Alex on the dock stretching his quads, one hand on the railing, head tipped back.
Alex in the locker room pulling his shirt over his head—just a flash before I made myself look away, but enough. The shoulders. The stomach. That strip of skin above his waistband.
My dick twitched at the thought of him.
And tonight, standing in the shower with the hot water running over my shoulders, I'd thought about what it would be like if he was in there with me. The steam. The tile. His back against the wall and the water between us. His hands on my hips. My mouth on his neck. The sounds he'd make with my dick in his mouth.
I needed him.
Liam
Come over.
A moment later the three dots appeared.
Alex
Hey. I would but it's 11 on a Thursday.
Liam
I know what day it is.
Alex
We have practice and I have an 8 AM lecture.
Liam
It will be fine.
Alex
Liam.
Liam
I haven't seen you. Not really. Not since Sunday.
