Page 99 of Fair Catch

A devious grin crosses his face—one I’ve seen plenty of times over the years—and I know he’s already got a plan cooking up in his brain.

“Then you better get that credit card out, because I have the perfect solution.”

Twenty-Five

Hayes

Two delays and an extra hour sitting on the tarmac to de-ice our plane in Chicago later, Kason and I land in Newark, and there’s no doubt in my mind that the two of us are damn near bursting with excitement about finally being off the goddamn plane.

Even in first class, sitting around watching them spray the plane down so we don’t plummet to our deaths isn’t my idea of a good time.

“Jesus Christ,” Kason mutters as we make our way through the terminal. “I thought O’Hare was busy when we got there at fucking four in the morning, but this place is a nuthouse.”

“It’s what we get for traveling the day after Christmas.”

“This was your idea,” he reminds me. “I was ready to bundle up on the couch with you and an endless movie marathon until next semester when you decided to plan an impromptu trip to the Big Apple.”

He makes a fair point, but we both needed to get out of Chicago.

And more importantly, I needed to get out of my damn head.

“Q was harping on me to visit, and we needed to leave the apartment before our dicks fell off from overuse. This was two birds, one stone.”

“Mhmm. Sure,” he murmurs with a smirk. “If you wanted me to meet your family and your best friend all in the span of a month, you just had to say that, Hazey. You just better be careful or I might start thinking you actually like me.”

I roll my eyes, both at his dramatics and that ridiculous nickname that’s started to grow on me. “Oh, shut up. You know I like you plenty.”

“And yet you didn’t take me up on my offer to join the Mile High Club on our way here.”

I turn and look at him, my eyes widened in alarm and I whisper,“You’re a six-three monster of a human, and the bathrooms are barely big enough to fit you by yourself. There’s absolutely no way I’d be able to fuck you in there.”

“That wouldn’t have happened if we would’ve taken the private jet,” he teases in a sing-songy tone.

Snorting, I shake my head as I step onto the escalator heading to baggage claim, and more importantly, where Quinton and Oakley are supposed to be waiting for us.

“I should’ve just kept my mouth closed about that.”

“Probably. But it’s great information for whenever I feel like ribbing you about the hardships of being a one-percenter.” His fingers link with mine as baggage claim and all the people waiting for their loved ones come into view. “You said they’d be waiting at baggage, right?”

I nod, my eyes scanning the crowd until they fall on my best friend and his boyfriend. Of course, the second they do, I wish they hadn’t.

Kason must see him too, because he clears his throat and mutters, “Does that say—”

“Sure fucking does,” I reply, the words coming out clipped as I read the massive sign Q is holding for the entirety of the airport to see.

Congratulations on your penile implant surgery, Hayes!

“Oh, my God,” Kason laughs from behind me. “Iknewyour dick couldn’t naturally be that big.”

And now I’m wishing I would have agreed to Kason’s movie and sex marathon back in Chicago.

Shaking my head as we step off the escalator, we head toward my idiot best friend, who is grinning from ear to ear.

“You look rather pleased with yourself,” I note, glancing between him and his ridiculous sign.

“What? This?” Q asks, shaking the posterboard he’s still holding. “I wanted to make your entrance a grand one.”

“For the record, I told him this was overkill,” Oakley tells me while reaching for one of my bags. “It’s some shit Holden would’ve pulled.”

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