Page 26 of The Brotherly Shove

I turn towards him, tucking my shaking hands under the pillow. I drink him in, marveling at the way his joggers cling to his thick thighs, his nipples poking through the material of his white tee, likely hard from the chill of the AC unit. His hair is mussed in the back from leaning against the headboard, and his chest rises and falls with slow, even breaths. He glances down at me and immediately winces. My eyebrows crease, but he reaches his fingertips out and runs them lightly over the black and blue bruise on my ribs. I try and fail miserably at suppressing my shiver, and my cock stirs in my pants.

"You need an ice bath," he whispers worriedly.

"I had one at the facility before we left for the bar. The trainers and the docs checked me out. Nothing is broken, don't worry," I assure him with a soft smile, and he scoffs sarcastically.

"I wasn't worried for you, dick. I was worried for the team. Who else is gonna lug me over the line of scrimmage if you're on IR?" he asks, and we both laugh even as the truth settles over me. I won't be lugging him over the line of scrimmage again. Tonight was my last game as a Panther. My last game as Breaker's center. I steady my breath, and get ready to launch into the speech I've practiced in my head over and over again for weeks.

B, listen. I have feelings for you beyond just friendship. I've had them for a while. I don't know exactly what it means, but I know that I want you. I think that I would enjoy dating you, getting to know each other on a deeper level. If that's not something you're interested in, that's okay, but I can't keep living a lie anymore. My feelings for you are so much more than platonic.

I bite my lip, and to my dismay, Breaker pulls his hand away from my sides. I falter for a moment, but as he stares down at me, I swear I see something glistening in his eyes.

"B," I whisper, reaching out and running a fingertip down his bicep, following one of his prominent blue veins that stick out even when he's not flexing.

"Yeah, Len?" he asks, his voice rasping around my name. I take a beat, take a breath, steel my nerves a I ready myself to confess my deepest secret. Breaker opens his mouth, and I blink slowly, hoping that whatever he's going to say doesn't cause me to lose it. He shuts it just as quickly, and then my word vomit comes out.

"I love you, Breaker," my voice is so timid and foreign sounding to my own ears, and I freeze in shock when I realize what I've just said. I close my eyes, wishing I could go back in time five seconds and slap a hand over my own mouth. When I look up, Breaker looks like he swallowed a mouthful of sand and is trying not to choke it up. My lip trembles, and I feel the impending doom wash over us.

He rubs at his face, clearly pained. Fuck. He doesn't want me. I knew this was a possibility, but I hadn't prepared myself for the stabbing pain I'd feel in my chest at the clear disinterest on my friend's face.

"I…ummm. Huh. You love me?" he stutters, and I swallow hard. I could power through. I could double down. Maybe he's just in shock. Maybe he needs more explanation.

But no. The way he's looking down his nose at me, his face a mixture of regret and something that looks an awful lot like disgust. It's clear. He knows exactly what I meant, and he has no intent of reciprocating my feelings. My mouth works faster than my brain can keep up with, spitting out the only thing I think will smooth this over without having to acknowledge the reality of the situation I've put us in.

"Of course I do," I tell him, trying to hide the disappointed crack in my voice. "You're like the brother I never had."

My stomach roils and I swallow down the bile rising in my throat. I close my eyes and bury my face into the pillow, acting like I'm ready to sleep. I have no desire to see or hear any more of Breaker's reactions, not when my heart is shattered and scraping at the inside of my chest.

It's the one time in my life that I'm thankful for my typical light snoring, because there's a chance that the muffled sniffles from the tears steadily falling down my face will be mistaken by Breaker as simply the sound of me sleeping.

CHAPTER 16

LENNON

Now

San Francisco, California

Walking out of that pantry with an erection to beat the band was…maybe not my finest moment. Thankfully, I managed to keep my head down and slip out of the Adler's mansion without notice. I felt a little bad leaving Breaker alone after everything I said, but I could not stay that close to him any longer. Not when he so clearly hates me. Not when I can't stop fucking loving him anyway.

I pull into the garage at the hotel I'm staying at in downtown San Francisco and trudge up to the room, avoiding all human contact on the way. I'm glad I had the foresight to book a room because I have zero desire to drive the thirty-ish miles to my place near Santa Clara.

I throw open the door and immediately start unbuttoning the stupid stiff dress shirt I'm wearing. Everything feels suffocating, like I haven't taken a full breath in hours. I slip out of my pants and underwear, and flop onto the bed, burying my face into the plush white pillows.

If I thought not knowing why Breaker has pulled away from me this year was bad, the truth is so much worse. It would be so easy to be mad at him right now, to blame him for the shift in our relationship, but it's all on me. If only I had just been a little brave. If I had only voiced my feelings. If I'd just leaned in that night in Houston and pressed my lips to his like I so badly wanted to, we might not be in this position. Sure, Breaker isn't completely innocent in all of this, and he has been treating me like shit for weeks—hell, for a fucking year—but it all comes back to me.

I groan into the pillow, kicking my feet at the edge of the bed and pounding the mattress with my fists as I try to expel some of the excess energy coursing through me. My dick is painfully hard trapped between me and the mattress, but I refuse to give in to the temptation to stroke it. It doesn't feel right to relieve the tension when I know the only thing on my mind will be Breaker's pouty pink mouth, his peachy ass in the black slacks he wore tonight, the way his erection felt pressed up against my thigh in that dark pantry…

Fuck.

I bolt up, stomping my way into the bathroom and turning the shower on. I step in and shiver as the icy cold water pelts my skin. I run a hand through my hair and try to regulate my breathing, but Jesus Christ it's cold in here. I feel my teeth start to clatter, and I swear I can feel my skin turning blue.

"Dammit!" I yell as I quickly shut off the water and grab a towel. The stupid hotel sized towel is not meant for a body my size, so it does little to relieve the chill in my bones. I run back into the room and dive under the covers, pulling the duvet over my wet head to try to gain some warmth in my body.

I'd like to call science and demand a refund, because this whole 'cold shower to wash away sexual tension' thing is a totalfarce. Now instead of being warm and hard, I'm cold as fuck and hard. It's such bullshit.

I hear my phone buzzing on the dresser across the room, but I can't be fucked to get up and check it. I don't know how much time has passed since I curled up in this bed. It can't be that late, though. It was only around 9 when I left the party. Theoretically I should be exhausted after all the practice and playing and travel. I'm typically a zombie when I have time off during the season. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try, I can't force myself to sleep. I toss and turn, cursing myself for letting my wet hair drip all over and soak the pillows. I get up and check the closet for extra pillows. When I don't find any, I consider calling down to the front desk. I hate to bother the hotel employees, but I can't sleep on a drenched pillow.

I pull the pants and boxer briefs that were abandoned on the ground over my ass, because calling the front desk while naked feels a little perverted to me. As I make my way to the phone, there's a knock at the door.

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