Page 48 of The Quarterback
Nick shifted. His knuckles tightened. Another ten miles roared by.
He’d never been attracted to a man. He’d never thought about a man that way. Though he’d been married, so he’d never really thought about attraction toanyoneother than his wife.Ex-wife. Marriage was comfortable, and he’d been content. He had his love for this life, he’d thought. If his eyes occasionally recognized a beautiful woman, he never let the thought sink into his mind.
And he’d never looked at a man. Not with lust. Not with attraction.
He tried to assess Colton out of the corner of his eye. Colton was handsome. Anybody—everybody—could see that. He was astonishingly good looking, with strong features, a defined face, bright eyes. His smile could power an electric plant. His body was a work of art, sculpted muscles and a tight physicality that screamed of his dedication to athletics and to football. Colton was, in every sense of the word, a catch.
Not Nick’s catch, though. Because Nick wasn’t gay. Or bi.
Colton’s body pressed against his, smooth skin and those hard, defined muscles against his chest. A thick thigh between his own, so different from the soft skin he’d known before. Cynthia had been all curves and give. Colton’s body was like a blade, so hot and sharp against his.
He shook his head. Tried to push the memory away.
Colton shuddering in his arms. Colton’s skin against his. Colton’s lips against his. Colton’s lips on his nipple, his chest, his—
He almost drove off the road. He jerked the wheel, righted the car. Put another twenty miles between him and the memory.
“What do you want from me?” The words had been bouncing around inside him. What had happened had happened, but what did itmean? What did Colton want it to mean?
Colton sagged in the passenger seat. His face twisted and then smoothed. Twisted again. He pursed his lips. Scrunched one eye. Then exhaled, and his expression went back to the mask he’d worn at the hospital when he was trying to be brave. “I kind of thought it was obvious what I wanted.”
“Sex? A one-night stand?”
“No,” Colton whispered. “I wanted to wake up and see you smiling at me. I wanted to kiss you good morning. I want to reach over there and hold your hand right now, like I’ve dreamed about doing—”
“You’vedreamedabout me?”
“I’ve dreamed so fucking much about you. And I thought, last night, that this was starting to go where my dreams were. That we were on the same page and we wanted the same things.” He inhaled, blew it out in one big breath. “I thought you wanted me, too.”
“Jesus,” Nick whispered. “Colton…”
“I fucked everything up, didn’t I?”
Silence filled the car. Filled the highway, even. Filled what felt like the whole world. Colton turned away and stared out the window.
What could Nick say to that? He didn’t know. Things felt pretty fucked up. Panic made his heart race, made his palms sweat, tied his stomach in huge knots. He’d thought he was having a heart attack, earlier. Thought he was going to throw up as he crouched in the shower and stared at the drain. He thought he’d hurt Colton, used him somehow. He couldn’t imagine, when he’d opened his eyes, what had led to the two of them naked together, tangled in each other’s arms.
His memories had come back in fractured chunks, like he was too shocked to remember all at once, and that had done nothing for the guilt he was drowning in.
I’ve dreamed so fucking much about you. And I thought, last night, that this was starting to go where my dreams were.
He hadn’t hurt Colton last night, but he sure was hurting him now, it seemed.
I thought we were on the same page, wanted the same things. I thought you wanted me, too.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Colton. Of course he liked Colton. He cherished their time together, had been hungry for more of it, so much that he’d invited Colton to live with him for the summer. He invited Colton to come with him on these trips not only because he wanted Colton to have the work experience, but because he’d been greedy and he wanted Colton around.
Colton… made him feel good. Being with Colton felt like being near a perpetual sunrise. And Colton understood him in a fundamental way. Who else would have taken him to that winery? Who else would have known that he needed something like that, something wonderful, exactly that day? He’d opened up parts of himself to Colton that he hadn’t in years—decades, even. He wasn’t justNick the businessmanorNick the fatherorNick the football fan. When Colton was around, he was the Nick he was when he was alone, when no one was watching. The real Nick. And Colton seemed to like that guy.
He seemed to like that Nick a lot.I’ve fallen for you.
A part of him craved Colton’s presence. A part of him, clearly, thought Colton was pretty damn sexy and attractive, too. Had all these parts been inside him all along? He thought he was a pretty self-aware guy, but waking up naked next to a man had a way of showing you your blind spots.
What did he feel for Colton?
How could he answer that? What he felt was so tangled and deep it couldn’t be parsed into individual emotions. He cared for Colton. Wanted him around all the time. Wanted to hear his laugh and listen to his thoughts and see his dimple-stretched smile.
He’d been excited, in a petty way, when Colton kept wanting to spend time with him instead of going out to pick up girls. Colton was a young, hot-blooded man. It made perfect sense for him to go out. It made far less sense when he stayed in with Nick every night, drinking wine and talking before playing PlayStation or watching Netflix.
