Page 31 of Possession

“Well, from the sound of things, you’ve been a busy lady,” he says. “Look, I won’t keep you from class. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve got my eye on you. Anyone who can pull off a Boss-Holzach Matter technique in heels at a banquet is someone I want in my program.”

“I, um…I don’t know what to say,” I manage to mutter as my insides swirl with possibilities.

“I’ve known the Peterson family for a long time,” he continues. “Tim’s dad and I go way back.” He pauses, and I wonder if he’s aware of Tim’s falling out with his family after the events of this past weekend. “Anyway, between this hero move and your excellent work getting Tim into butterfly shape after the back spasms, I think it’s safe to say we have room for you. Have you done much work with baseball?”

“Baseball?” This is all moving so quickly. I can’t quite keep up and I feel like I should be taking notes. Bradford explains that he’s going to be the principal investigator on a shoulder study for the pitchers on the top-ranked Ann Arbor baseball team as soon as his grant comes through, which should be next fall. “It’ll be good to have my research team in place,” he says. “Have you applied for our program yet?”

Bradford and I talk a bit more about my situation. When I tell him I’ve been fired from the training room at SCU, he says, “Hmmm,” in a low growl, but doesn’t elaborate. After a long pause, he says, “Well, like I said, anyone who can keep her cool while an athlete pukes on her and still reset the joint like a boss…Olive, I want you in my program. Put your application together and send it all directly to me, ok?”

By the time we hang up, I’m late for class and I’ve evidently missed a call from Leslie. Everything is happening at once, but I can’t help smiling at the anticipation of it all.So this is what it feels like when things are going well for a change,I think, typing my grad school application on the sly from the back row of my econ lecture.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Baxter: Six Months Later

DRAFT DAY. THE day I’ve been looking forward to for twenty years. I wake up with my girl in my bed and my dick hard against my stomach. I don’t even think I can concentrate to even deal with a hard-on. My insides are a wreck.

The past couple of months have been surreal for me. Olive got to stay in school thanks to the work study job in the laundry room. She said she didn’t mind washing sweat towels, but I think that’s mostly because I helped her shower after every shift. And I’ve gotten really fucking thorough when it comes to making sure my girl is clean.

The situation with Justin took care of itself when a couple of the graduate student trainers filed a complaint against Olive’s former boss. He’d been messing with all kinds of shit in the training room, taking people off their cases and wrecking their graduate research. By the time the athletic director fired him, he got dozens of phone calls about inappropriate shit that douche did to women, dating back years.

As soon as they hired a new head trainer, I made sure Olive was back in there where she belongs. She threw me through a loop, though, when she told me she wanted to stick with the swim team. She says she’s got a lot to learn about shoulders to be ready to dive into her grad program in the fall.

Surprisingly, I don’t even miss the extra time with her, because I get to spend all night with her now. I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t spend every night with my face between her legs, making her scream my name in bed way louder than she ever screamed from the bleachers at a football game.

Olive stirs and opens her eyes. Then she feels my rock-hard third leg between us and she drops a hand to it. I wince at the contact. “Oh,” she says. “Someone is excited about draft day.”

“I feel like I might puke,” I tell her. Most of the guys expected to go in the first round are camped out at home with their families and their agents. Everyone I care about in the world is right here at Stone Creek University, so I see no reason to go anywhere. Which means the TV crew is showing up at my suite in a few hours.

“Want to see if I can help you relax?” Olive’s gotten real frisky, and I’m going to be really honest and say I fucking love that. We have years to make up for, and we’re making a good effort to get caught up. “Why don’t you lie back and let me help you,” she tells me, pushing me onto my back.

I lace my fingers together behind my head while she climbs up on top of me. Olive fell asleep wearing one of my jerseys, and I love that she’s got nothing else on. Just my name on her back and nothing else. She climbs on my lap and I feel her wriggle those hips around as she kisses her way down my chest. “Oh, shit,” I say when her mouth drops to my cock. I thought she was going to ride me this morning, but I’ll take this. I’ll take whatever she wants to give me.

Olive’s tongue circles the throbbing tip of my cock, her little hand around the base squeezing me rhythmically until I feel like I’m going to blow all over her face. “Olive,” I whisper. “Baby. Shit, that feels good.”

Olive looks up at me with those chocolate eyes as she opens her mouth. Her plump lips sink down my shaft and it feels so good, so wet. I think my eyes roll up into my head. “Mmmm,” she moans, slipping off my dick. “You’re so hard. You should get that checked out.”

“Very funny,” I choke, as she dives back down onto my dick. I feel my tip hit the back of her throat and keep on sliding as she starts moving her head up and down. “Olive,” I whisper. I need her to stop or I’m going to blow a gasket, but she raises her eyebrows at me and redoubles her effort.

A few more pumps of her fist and I’m a goner. My hips thrust up off the bed as I spurt into her mouth, groaning and clutching at my pillow. “Damn, Livvy.”

Olive pops off, grinning, and wipes her mouth with the back of her forearm. “Feel better?” She asks. When I nod, she slaps my stomach. “Good,” she says. “Now get up and get dressed. The crew will be here soon and we need you looking relaxed.

Olive sits on the arm of my couch chewing on her lip. Kev and Tim are here eating snacks that Tim’s mom had sent over. He’s still not eating carbs, which is why Kev’s mom sent along bread sticks…so we’d have options. Kev isn’t interested in going pro. He and Tim have big plans to take over the business world after graduation. They both have jobs lined up at some sort of foundation for gay teens.

Olive’s grad program sent a box of Ann Arbor gear with a note in it. My agent got a call from Detroit last week, and I know people have been talking. Olive’s mentor and Tim’s dad apparently know the coach from Detroit and told him how I kept my cool at the banquet. My agent got a text that said something about how he needs another hothead tackle like he needs a hole in the head. I was confused about all of it until Olive assured me they are all excited about me. My dad was fucking wrong about everything. People want me on their team and I can be an asset on and off the field.

I try not to focus too much on Detroit, though. Anything could happen, and I know Olive and I will be together no matter what. Her grad program isn’t forever. We have all the time in the world to be together, and when I go pro, I’ll be able to fly her to wherever I am whenever I want. First class, like she fucking deserves.

I start to sweat as the film crew turns on the lights while the draft begins. Detroit gets to pick first since they had such a bad season last year. But defensive players hardly ever go first. Can’t set my hopes on this too much.

I feel Olive rubbing my shoulder, but the sound of my heart drums out everything else in the room. I try to focus on the TV, but my mouth is thick and I can’t swallow.

And then the room erupts. Kev and Tim are on their feet, and Finnegan and Scotty start dumping champagne over my head. My agent leans against the wall with a smile and starts to say something, but I have to find my center. My gravity.

I look to Olive and pull her down on my lap. “What just happened,” I ask, leaning my forehead against hers.

She rubs her hand down my cheek. “You got drafted by Detroit, Bax.”

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