Page 5 of Summer Catch

But before he could pull back—or text Kieran an apology for undeniably flirting with the guy, even though he wasn’t interested, not like that, anyway, his phone dinged again.

I don’t know, I can’t remember. Jon made a face, because of course Kieran remembered what he looked like. It had only been a few weeks since he’d been in the bar, and then there was the fact he kept appearing on ESPN. The guy was just fucking with him now, in a way that Jon really found himself strangely enjoying.

He grabbed his phone, clicked the camera, and took a quick selfie, work-mussed hair, tired shadows under his eyes, bad lighting and all. To make it more playful, he stuck his tongue out and made the silliest face he could.

Donna Summer called and she wants her glitter back.

Aw, Jon texted, still chuckling out loud, am I not fabulous enough for her?

Not tonight you’re not. Get some sleep. Unlike me, I know you can’t sleep half the day away.

It was true. He was exhausted. He’d been watching film for hours now, and he’d gotten through most of what he’d hoped to, for tonight, so that was just going to have to be good enough.

He stood, stretching out his back, and grabbed his phone from the desk, texting as he walked down the darkened hallway in the practice facility, heading towards the parking garage.

Yes, Mom, I’m going to bed now, I promise.

It should have been kind of weird how Jon had wanted Kieran to tease him again, maybe even pick up on the mention of a bed and use that to flirt with him more, but he didn’t. He only replied back: Night.

But still, even as he fell into that bed, only twenty minutes later, he realized he was still smiling.

Chapter 3

The texting shouldn’t have become a thing.

But it became a thing.

Morning, Jon sent a week or so later, I wish I could hook this coffee up to my veins with an IV.

They didn’t text every day, but when they did, it often went on for hours. Talking about everything and, also, nothing at all. Kieran had friends, friends he genuinely liked—even with his shit working hours—but he’d never had a friend he’d connected to so quickly and so easily. And never like this, with just words.

He’d kept hoping Jon would come into the bar again. But he hadn’t.

Kieran was torn about this. On one hand, it was disappointing, because he wanted to know if they had this same easy camaraderie in person. On the other, it was actually a huge fucking relief, because what if they did, and what if it was more—but only for Kieran—all the while he knew Jon couldn’t possibly like him that way.

How would the NFL feel about you talking so cavalierly about drug use? he texted back as he lay in bed, sunlight streaming over the coverlet.

That’ll have to be our little secret.

Kieran told himself firmly that he shouldn’t like that they had those, now. Even if Jon meant it half-jokingly.

But he really, really liked it.

Liked it enough his cock was already half-hard, both because of his just-awakened state and also because it was hard to help it when he was thinking about Jon.

About his forearms, rippling with muscle. His honey brown eyes. The way he’d smiled.

The undeniably fit body his khakis and polo shirts hid.

Kieran had tried very hard not to think about him in sexual terms. They were friends, and Jon had made it clear where he stood, from the beginning. But there was also the matter of how undeniably flirty some of their exchanges got. And how long of a dry spell Kieran was currently in. Both those made it tough to fantasize about anyone else.

Maybe Jon didn’t mean for his messages to come across that way. Kieran had sure tried not to take them that way, but it was becoming more and more challenging to stop himself from jerking off while thinking about Coach Kelley in some very explicit terms.

It’s been way too fucking long since you got laid.

Then there was that ugly truth.

But even if Kieran wanted to pick someone up, now, there was no way he’d ever be satisfied with that kind of hookup.

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