Page 42 of Go Deep

“That was before I realized who and what you are.”

“I’m the man who will love you forever. Who will do anything to win you back.” The eerie timbre of his voice slithers over me like a venomous snake baring its fangs, ready to impale. “Not like that ex-football player you’ve been hanging around with.”

My skin prickles under his knowing stare.

The door to the locker room swings open, and a couple ofguys walk inside, laughing loudly. I let out a stilted breath, keeping my eyes focused on Shane.

He knows about Vince.

He’s been watching, but fuck, why should that shock me? He told me he would always be with me.

I tried to get a restraining order after that day at the restaurant, but because he hasn’t caused me any physical harm, I can’t get one. I have no proof it was him who trashed my place or cut my tires, either. And hell, even if I did, he’s crazier than a shithouse rat. A restraining order would only incite him.

“I’ll be cheering for you on Sunday,” Shane says in a soft voice, backing toward the door. “Watching from the stands. Always watching.” His eyes flash with anger, malice glimmering in the depths before he turns to shove open the door.

My pulse hammers hard against my neck. What the fuck is this guy’s end game? I fist my hair, still wet from my late-night swim.

This alpha streak of his didn’t blaze until recently. And he’s quickly moved from being needy and desperate to straight-up obsessed.

I strip out of my board shorts and wrap a towel around my waist. It’s time for me to contact a private security firm. Everything he said is true. He was there for me when I needed him. And like a callous asshole, I pushed him away when he became too tight a noose around my neck. He thought we had something real. But my MO is to push away when things gettooreal.

Of course he’s pissed.

But this time was different.

Hewas different.

Almost…eerie. Sinister, even. Nothing that I’ve ever seen before. Yeah, he’d get jealous, but never dangerous.

I walk toward one of the empty showers and turn on the spray. Steam rises from out of the enclosure. I hang my towelon the hook and step inside the glass doors, the muscles in my neck and back tensing.

My apartment isn’t too far from here, but I’d rather not take any chances. I’m calling an Uber right after I file a report with management about their shitty security protocols.

I take a deep breath, pushing my hair back. Enough about Shane. I’ll take care of his stalker ass the second I get out of here. But right now, I just want him out of my damn head.

I need a distraction.

Hot water rushes over my skin. I soap my aching body, my mind not-so-innocently wandering to the Ohio State game I was invited to co-host with Vince. It’s been meandering in that direction for days since I received the call from Neil, my agent.

He thought it would be a great opportunity since we’re both alumni of Ohio State, and with the season about to kick off, it could help with any backlash from my coming-out party at the end of last season. Or whatever bullshit words he threw together to convince me this was a good thing.

Show your face, align yourself to one of the greats, support your alma mater, blah blah blah. I agreed to it, but not because of any reasons he spewed.

My hands travel farther down my torso. I squeeze my eyes shut, my cock hardening as I stroke it. I bite my lip, my fingers twitching at the thought of fisting Vince’s thick, dark hair. The ache in my groin is agonizing, easy enough to relieve with some random fuck. I tug harder, and my dick swells against my hand.

In twenty minutes, I can be at the bar, talking up some guy whose name I won’t remember. In forty-five minutes, he can have me on my back.

My stomach clenches when the realization hits like a wet glove to the face.

I don’t want some random fuck.

I want Vince.

I swallow a groan, still stroking my cock. Ofcourse,I have feelings for the straight guy. Wanting the impossible just means that I’ll never have my heart stomped on. Vince won’t ever return my feelings, no matter what I’ve worked up in my sick and twisted brain about what makes him tick.

The locker room door slams again, and I suck in a deep breath, loosening my grip. Christ, how did I get so lost over this guy? I turn the shower handle to cold and let it flash-freeze my sensitized skin. A couple of minutes later, I’m limp. And blue, literally and figuratively.

I wrap a towel around my waist and rake a hand through my hair. Maybe I do need to get laid. It’ll clear my head, so I can focus on more than just screwing the hot hetero.

---