“Whatever,” he mutters. “Why Roland? Out of all the players on the team, it had to be one of my friends?”
“One of your friends?” My brows furrow together. “Sure, I’ve seen you two hang out, but you don’t seem chummy. You know what, though? It doesn’t matter. Who I do and don’t date is none of your business. Just because we’re sharing a room doesn’t mean we need to know anything about each other's lives.” Or the way the other sounds when they cum. “So you go about your life, I’ll go about mine, and we can pretend the other one doesn’t exist.”
“Fine by me.”
“Good.” I glare at him.
“Good.” He glares right back.
Rolling my eyes, I leave this weird little stare off first and head to the room.
I’m halfway up the stairs when I realize Easton is behind me. “Stalking me now?” I ask. “You seem a little obsessed with me these days, Easton. We went from years of hardly talking to being unable to get away from you.”
“Now who’s flattering themselves?” he mutters. “I’m going to the room. You know, the one we share?”
“Why don’t you go wherever you’ve been the past few nights? It’s been nice not to have you around.”
“How about you go fuck yourself?” he says, pushing past me and rushing to our room.
Is this asshole planning on locking me out? Fuck that.
I speed up, keeping on his tail. He goes to shut the door, but I slam my hand out to stop him. “Nice try,” I sneer.
He huffs, rolling his eyes and moving away. I step inside, closing the door behind me, and step to my side of the room while he goes to his.
I do my best to ignore that he’s here, but it’s not that easy. I’m too aware of his presence.
I grab a pair of sleep pants, wanting to get out of these clothes and into something more relaxing. I debate going down to the bathroom to change or going into my closet, but that’s just stupid. I share a changing room with my teammates, and I know he does the same with his. And it’s not like he didn’t welcome me into the shower, where he was very naked, wet, and full of soap.
And now I need to shut my brain off before I get hard. What is wrong with my stupid dick? Does he not know this man is off limits?
Whatever. This is my room, I should be able to get changed in it.
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I lift it off over my head and toss it in the hamper. I can feel Easton’s eyes on me as my body becomes hyperaware.
Next, I lose my jeans, leaving me in boxers.
So far, so good, right? Wrong. I don’t sleep in my boxers with my sleep pants. Too restrictive.
Part of me wants to face him and lose the boxers, force him to see my dick, like I was forced to see his.
But I don’t want to witness any potential look of disgust on his face. Although there wasn’t any when he watched another man sucking me off.
None at all.
Yeah, my decision is made for me, because now I’m getting hard. I feel like a stupid, horny teenager at this point.
It’s like I’m having the opposite of erectile dysfunction. I can’t seem to keep the damn thing down these days.
Turning around, I drop my boxers and bend down to slip my feet into the holes of the pants. Maybe my ears are playing tricks on me, but I swear I hear the smallest sound come from the other side of the room. A grunt, maybe a groan?
Pulling my pants up, I don’t look his way as I slide under my blanket. Flicking on my bedside lamp, I grab my reading glasses and the book I’m reading.
A small snort has me looking up. “You got an issue?” I ask. Easton is lounging on his bed, dressed similarly to me, only he’s in just his boxers. When the hell did he lose his clothes?
You know what, it doesn't matter.
The head of my bed is against the wall, with the rest of it extending out into the room. Easton’s lays against the wall. So I’m able to see his whole body.
