Page 37 of The Quarterback
He berated himself daily. Hourly, sometimes, when he caught himself peeking into Nick’s open office to watch him working at his desk.Stupid. You’re so stupid. How’d you fall for him?Stop wanting a man.
That was like trying to hold his hands up to the sky and push falling raindrops back into soaked thunderheads.
One night, alone in Justin’s room, he shoved earbuds into his ears and watched hours of gay porn. He was mildly interested, in the way that anything sexual is interesting to most twenty-two-year-old men. But he didn’t crave the men he saw, didn’t drool over their muscles or their bodies or the long, hard cocks that were on prominent display. He learned a bit, though. Saw the mechanics of a few things he’d wondered about. Found a few new things to dream of.
When he fell asleep, tired and frustrated and annoyed at himself and the answers he couldn’t find, his dreams were consumed by Nick. Nick, buck naked on the same set as the porn he’d just watched. Nick, stroking his hard cock with both hands, his head tipped over the side of the bed as he grinned at Colton. Nick, spreading his legs and reaching down, between his ass cheeks—
The dream shifted, and Colton was flat on his back, Nick above him, hands braced on either side of Colton’s head. His hips were moving, his cock pressing against Colton’s, hard length against hard length. He groaned, ran his hands up Nick’s arms, squeezed Nick’s shoulders—
He was on his knees on the bed, between Nick’s spread legs. He had both hands on Nick’s thighs—why did he never have his sling on in his dreams?—and his mouth wrapped around Nick’s cock. He was sucking, bobbing his head up and down Nick’s hot length, his cheeks hollowing as he hummed. Nick tasted like the summer sun. He sucked harder, swirling his tongue around the head—
He woke coming in his boxers, face pushed into Justin’s pillow as he gasped, as he whispered Nick’s name and grabbed his cock. He didn’t know if he was trying to stop his orgasm or keep it going.
He punched the mattress and groaned, then took a cold shower at three a.m. He slipped his sheets into the laundry before they left for work in the morning.
It wasn’t his only wet dream. He gave up trying to hide his laundry after the fourth.
Eventually, he gave in and jacked off every night before bed. It didn’t stop the dreams—nothing stopped the dreams—but it cut the middle-of-the-night wake-up calls in half. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as hard as he could so he wouldn’t say Nick’s name out loud, wouldn’t moan or whisper or beg for Nick as he imagined the man above him, touching him. Stroking him. Lining up their hips, their cocks. Thrusting against him as he kissed Colton.
Sometimes he cried. Cried boiling, frustrated tears, furious at himself for falling for someone impossible. Not impossible like falling for a movie star, or the girlfriend of one of his buddies, or a chick so far out of his league it wasn’t funny. He’d fallen for hisfriend’s dad. His friend’sstraightdad.
The best guy he’d ever known.
He cried, too, when his dreams woke him and it hurt so fucking much because everything he’d been feeling in his dream world was wonderful, so fucking perfect that he couldn’t breathe, and he washappy—
Until he opened his eyes and he was alone in Justin’s bed.
He was aware of Nick every moment of every day. From the way he ate his breakfast yogurt and drank his coffee—black, always—to the way he tied his tie, pursing his lips and tipping his chin up as he worked the silk at his neck in brisk, efficient tugs.
Nick’s eyes crinkled whenever he smiled. When he wasn’t smiling, little lines trailed out from the corners of his eyes, the first hints of starbursts reaching across the plane of his skin. Single strands of silver flecked through his hair, more at his temples and above the back of his neck. Sometimes Colton tried to count them. Then he remembered to look away, told himself not to stare.Don’t be a freak.
Nick didn’t wear cologne. Maybe the last person who bought him cologne was his ex, and that hadn’t been on the list of things he’d packed for the move down from Dallas. He smelled like Irish Spring soap in the mornings, clean and fresh and crisp.
When Nick was lost in thought, he’d stare out the windows in his office, leaning half back in his chair with one foot crossed over the other. He’d grip his armrest in one hand and tap the end of a pen against his lips with the other. Colton had counted the pen taps one day. One hundred and seventeen.
Nick paced when he talked on the phone, back and forth in front of his floor-to-ceiling windows. He always said good morning to Lizbeth, always checked his phone for messages from Justin and Wes, and always smiled when Colton walked into his office.
Which was why Colton stilled one morning when he knocked on Nick’s office door and stepped inside, only for Nick to look up with a dark frown.
He froze as Nick’s hands clenched around his mouse and the edge of his keyboard.He knows.
How? Colton had never said a word, hadn’t changed a single thing about how they interacted. He’d obsessed about his behavior, in fact, watching himself like he was watching game tape, perfecting each movement, playacting at being normal and not head over heels for Nick. His lips moved, but he didn’t know what to say.
“Colton,” Nick sighed. He closed his eyes for a long moment. Relaxed his hands and laid them flat on the desktop. “I, uh. I’m going to be taking the afternoon off. And all day tomorrow. I’ll be going out of town.”
Apologize. Offer to leave. Tell him you’ll pack up and move out. “Okay.”
“I got an email from my attorney,” Nick said. His voice was whisper-thin. Brittle. Fragile. “She was able to move up the hearing for my divorce to tomorrow.”
Oh. Colton’s lungs collapsed. He almost doubled over. “Are you driving up?”
Nick nodded. “I’m going to head home and get some clothes. I’ll leave in a bit.” He stared at his fingers. Rubbed his lips together. Frowned at something only he could see.
“I’ll come with you,” Colton blurted out. Immediately, half of him wanted to crawl away and die. What right did he have, offering to go to Dallas with Nick on one of the most important days of his life? But who else would be there for Nick if not Colton? Justin wasn’t around.
And Nick had thrown himself fully into Colton’s life, without apology. He’d changed Colton, had made Colton fall for him. He should expect Colton would throw himself into Nick’s life with at least the same level of care. He set his jaw and squared his shoulders.
Nick’s eyes rose to Colton’s, overflowing with watery gratitude. “I’d love that, if you’re sure you want to.”
