Page 27 of Choke Up

Gabe barks out a laugh at the other end of the table, and my head snaps up. But he's not looking at me or his phone. He and Elliot are laughing at some stupid pickup line one of the guys is trying on the waitress. She doesn't look uncomfortable, mostly amused and potentially interested—although her gaze is on Gabe and not the guy trying to win her over with cheesy pickup lines.

JOHNNY: Would you prefer I didn’t talk?

ELLISH: I didn't say that. I was just trying to figure out what it is that you can give me that he can't.

The next message is a picture. Warily, I pull back and wait until Tripp is talking to the guy next to him before I peek down at the picture and nearly choke. It's not a dick pic like I was expecting. It’s far worse. I mean, his dick is in the picture. But so is my ass. He must have snuck a picture of us that day in the equipment room. I can't decide if I'm seething mad or excessively aroused by it. A mixture of both, I guess.

Tripp nudges me, and I nearly drop my phone. I scramble to turn the screen off, setting it face down in my lap.

"You okay?" he asks.

I smile. "All good. I'm just going to run to the bathroom real quick."

In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face before looking up at myself in the mirror. I have a short flashback to the night of the athletic dorm party, when I finally got the nerve to face myself after Johnny left me. My eyes were dilated from adjusting to the light, my face was red from beard burn, and my lips were swollen. I thought I looked strung out. But right now, I feel strung out.

My outrage and arousal are warring with each other, and it's pumping too much adrenaline and blood through my body. My cock is hard enough that I'm having to make a choice to either do something about it or try to reposition it, so I'm not so obvious. I go with repositioning it, trying to pull it up into my waistband. Then I pull out my phone.

ELLISH: Are you insane!?

ELLISH: I can’t believe you took a picture of that.

He doesn't answer, but the door opens, and Tripp walks in. He has a sheepish look on his face that I can't quite read.

"Everything alright in here?"

"Uh, yeah. I just needed a minute. I'm not used to being around so many people."

"I have six brothers and sisters. I'm pretty accustomed to a certain level of jackassery."

"Well, I grew up with Elliot and Gabe, so… same," I say, smiling at his laugh. He really is nice and good looking. Could I do nice and good looking, without all the hangups and games and secrecy?

"I, uh—" He puffs out a breath and shuffles on his feet.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" I say, realizing I'm standing here staring at him while he likely needs to use the restroom. "You probably don't want an audience," I joke awkwardly, taking a step toward the door.

Tripp's hand lands on my arm, stopping me. "No," he chuckles. "I just… I wasn't sure if you wanted me to follow you back here. If I was off base, I'm sorry."

"Oh," I say softly. "Oh," I repeat with more emphasis when I realize what he's implying.

His hand releases me as if he's been burned. "Oh Jesus. I was totally off base, wasn't I? I'm so sorry. I'm new to all this," he says, rubbing his hands over his face.

It might not be the most appropriate response to his panic, but I laugh. And once I start, I can't stop. Eventually, Tripp starts too. When the door busts open abruptly and Gabe walks in, I laugh even harder. I'm at risk of pissing myself, but I grip Tripp's sleeve and pull him out of the bathroom. I'm wiping tears away as we sit at the end of the empty bar, waving off a server who asks if we need a bartender. We explain we just needed a moment away from our party, and she nods her understanding. The team is rather loud and rambunctious.

"I'm sorry," I tell Tripp. "I honestly wasn't laughing at you. It was just the situation."

"It's okay. I'm laughing at me," he says lightly. "I take it you're not offended, at least?"

"Not in the least. Quite flattered, actually. I'm new to all this, too."

We chat for a while longer about being newly out, although Tripp is a sophomore and has a bit more experience than me. Or at least that I admit to. And while I don't agree to a date or anything like that, I do invite him to the next Pride Alliance meetup, and we exchange information to chat over the Howler app. It's innocent enough, but I notice Gabe watching us when I pass Tripp his phone back after typing in my information, and that dumb, broken part of me feels guilty.

CHAPTER 10

GABE

I don't care how much of a nice guy Tripp is. Right now, I want to tear his dick off his body with my bare hands.

"Why are you staring at Tripp like you're planning to murder him in an alleyway?"

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