Page 5 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

He must think I’m a freak.

Shaking my head, I spit out the toothpaste, start the shower running, and drop my shorts. I turn to step into the stall and the bathroom door opens after a quick knock. Trav walks in, eyes half-closed and hair a wild mess. He doesn’t even acknowledge me as he heads straight for the toilet.

I hop into the shower and shut the door. It’s not unusual for us to share the bathroom, especially if we’re running late, but after last night it feels weird. Which is dumb. We’re naked together every game day in the showers. I need to get out of my head about this.

The sink water runs and Trav brushes his teeth while I wash as quickly as possible. By the time I shut the shower off and reach out to grab my towel, he’s shaving with his electric razor. He uses a regular blade at home, but on travel days, he goes for the quicker option.

When he sees me, he smiles at me through the reflection in the mirror, and I brace myself for him to comment about what he saw last night. Does he think I’m weird? A freak? Gross? Does he ever finger his ass when he jerks it? Why am I thinking about what he does? Fuck.

“I could use some carbs this morning” is what he says. “Fuck a protein shake.”

He’s giving me a lifeline. “We can find carbs,” I grunt, drying my hair with a second towel. “How much did you drink last night?”

“Two and a half. I feel fine, just want something more substantial this morning.”

“Works for me.” I hurry out of the bathroom so Trav can shower.

I sit on the bed, mentally trying to find my footing. After a minute or two, I throw my underwear on and go into bro mode, dropping to the floor for some push-ups. I won’t bring it up. No. Better to just act like nothing happened. I bet he doesn’t want to talk about it either.

Once Trav comes out of the bathroom, he stands close, watching me, his skin damp from his shower. He’s covered in vivid tattoos, something often commented on in the media when he’s interviewed post game without his gear on. And then there are the photoshoots. He’s a photogenic guy.

“Push-ups?” He huffs a laugh, shaking his head while I get back to my feet. “Turned into a morning person overnight?”

“Just getting the blood going.”

“Okay.” Trav drops his towel. His ass is facing me as he bends over to tug his briefs on, a sight I’m used to, but this morning it feels… heavier than usual. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” I get to my feet.

“We’ll do Keely’s tomorrow, but then next weekend when we’re home, we’ll go to Druid’s. I want their fish and chips.”

“Deal.”

He turns to me, raising an eyebrow, but I quickly look away and focus on packing my bag.

“No complaints about greasy food during the season?”

I shake my head, still not looking up. “Fair is fair.”

“Oh, well, if you’re feeling so benevolent, maybe I should up the stakes and suggest we go to B-Town in Somerville. We could get those double cheeseburgers with the thick-ass bacon.”

“Sure, yeah. Whatever you want, Trav.”

He snorts, and I swear I can feel his eyes on me. The back of my neck heats, and I clear my throat.

“Beau?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

I glance in his direction but quickly look away again. “What’s up?”

“You tell me. You’re the one agreeing to cheeseburgers and fried food. What happened to Mr. Our Bodies are Temples?”

“It’s okay to indulge sometimes.”

“It is, yeah,” he agrees, “but you’re being weird.”