Page 47 of The Quarterback
He hung his head as the water pounded down his spine. He clenched the little bar of soap so hard it melted in his palm, squirting out both ends of his fist in a goopy, white mess. He tried to scrub the remnants over his crotch, tried to wash his balls and his cock—Nick had stroked him, jerked him off. Nick had touched him there—but his eyes were blurring and no matter how much he blinked, he couldn’t shake the water out of them. He swallowed. Gulped in a choked, shaking breath. Felt tears slide down his face.
Colton turned into the spray. He held his breath until his lungs ached and he was sure the sobs had died, and then he rinsed his hands of the soap residue and palmed off the shower.
Nick wouldn’t look at him when he came out. His bag was packed, and he was on the opposite side of the suite, as far from Colton as he could get. He stared at his phone, frown fixed on his face.
What would happen now? Lubbock was probably out. No way would Nick want to travel with him again. Would he even want Colton to continue his internship? Or would he reassign Colton, send him to someone else, somewhere else, so they never had to see each other again?
No doubt he was moving back to the jock house today.
This would be awkward when Justin and Wes got back.Why don’t you and my dad talk anymore? Didn’t you guys go to that winery together? Weren’t you playing PlayStation together all the time?
Yeah, but then I sucked your dad’s dick and he freaked the fuck out.
Shit happens, bro.
They had a three-hour drive in front of them, and that’s what he needed to survive now. Three hours, and all his shattered dreams. Better to have had and lost… That was bullshit. Whoever said that wasn’t looking at three hours trapped in a Porsche with the guy who’d just rejected you. Who looked at what had been maybe the best night of your life and acted like it was the worst night ever for him.
“Ready?” Nick barked.
Colton nodded. He grabbed his duffel and followed Nick out of the hotel room.There’s always, always an end.
Chapter Fifteen
What the fuck?What thefuckhad he done?
Nick white-knuckled the steering wheel and gunned the accelerator. He wanted to drown out his thoughts with the roar of the road, the whine of the engine. Wanted to go so fast and so far that his thoughts blurred like the landscape and he could leave behind what he’d done and never, ever have to think about it again.
But he couldn’t, because Colton was right there next to him.
Fuck, what had he done?
Colton sat slumped in the front seat, back bowed, wrapped around his right arm with his forehead dug into the passenger window frame. He looked like Nick was driving him to his execution.
This wasn’t the lost-little-boy look from a few months ago. This was something different, something far worse. Colton hadn’t looked this dejected, this downright heartbroken, even when he’d been in the hospital after his surgery.
What the fuck had he done to Colton?
His memories were like confetti, glittering in and out of focus as the night wore on. He hadn’t drunk that much, though. It was… something else. Tiredness? He’d been going full speed for a while. Everything seemed to be going so well. Kimbrough was happy. The account was running smoothly. The install and tests were working without hiccups. Everything was on track. Colton was phenomenal, outshining all the successes of the launch. Yeah, the first private mobile network for a remote off-site operation was going online without a hitch, but Colton—God, Colton was on fire. He’d been prouder of Colton kicking ass than he had been of his own tech. He was celebrating. He was happy.
Brad’s bar. A dozen smiling couples surrounding them with their own happiness. With a lightness of being, with the flirty casualness of a summer night. Everything that had been crawling through his veins all summer long, since he’d first started spending time with Colton. Possibility, potentiality. Thewhat-ifa future that lay just out of sight. Young ambition, young passion. He’d felt it like he’d shottwenty-two years oldstraight into his heart.
Colton kissed him. He remembered that. Remembered the feel of his lips, the scratch of his stubble. Remembered the shock, too. What was Coltondoing?
“I’m confused,” he finally said, over the hum of the tires. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d left the hotel and he’d roared out of the Houston city limits. His voice was raw, ragged. He cleared his throat.
Colton turned those big, terrible, melting eyes to him.
“You’re not gay, Colton.” There’d be no reason for him to hide that. Not after last season, and Wes and Justin. He wouldn’t have to hide that from anyone, and even if he wanted to be discreet, he still could have toldthem. They would have kept his secret. Besides, Colton had talked about girls—about finding one, or not finding one, and about how hard it was for him to understand women. To connect with them.I understand Wes and Justin. I understand falling in love with a guy.Nick flinched.
“I’m not gay.” Colton traced the rubber seal on the window frame with his index finger. “Maybe I’m bi? I don’t know. I’m not attracted to men like Wes and Justin are.”
Nick’s eyes darted to Colton and then back to the road.
“’Cept I’m attracted to you.” Colton’s voice dropped. It wavered. “You know, it’s not fair. Girls can sleep with other girls and say they’re experimenting, or that it’s just one part of who they are, and the world doesn’t think twice. They aren’t fixed into a label and told, ‘Now you’re this, forever,’ because of a few hookups. But guys, you know. If you mess around with one guy, the whole world says, ‘You’re gay now.’ Or you’re bi, at least.” Colton sighed. “But I’m not. I’m not attracted to guys like that. I just fell for one person. Why does it matter if they’re a guy or a girl?” He glared at the road.
Nick let that settle for a dozen miles. “So this is new? Are you… experimenting?”
“It’s not that.”
