Page 57 of The Quarterback
God, he hadn’t had a clue.
Would he be able to let this go when the time came?
He couldn’t think about that, not now. He wrapped his hands around Colton’s jaw and cradled his face, deepening their kiss. He hooked his ankle behind Colton’s knee to keep him close. For the moment, Colton seemed content there, a runaway smile splitting his face as he settled his weight on top of Nick.
Like he wanted to stay.
If only the night would never end, and summer could last an eternity, and he could bottle time in the palms of his hands. Stay in this moment, with Colton kissing him like this, touching him like this. Keep the world at bay. Keep what they were uncovering between them hidden, and safe, and theirs.
If only.
Chapter Seventeen
Colton handedNick a large Starbucks drip and plopped down beside him at the gate. He let his leg drift sideways and lean into Nick’s. Nick’s gaze darted to him as he took a sip of his coffee. He pressed his knee back against Colton’s.
Colton smiled into his caramel macchiato.
They’d left Austin before dawn, taking the early shuttle up to Dallas before connecting on a sunrise flight to Lubbock. Now they were waiting for Kimbrough’s chopper to collect them and ferry them out to the oil rig.
He’d woken in Nick’s arms Saturday, Sunday, and that morning, and each day, Nick was all smiles. The past two mornings Nick had been awake before Colton, lying in bed and gazing at Colton when Colton opened his eyes. He’d kissed Colton slowly, and that turned into making out, which turned into a thrust and grind that ended with fevered kisses and come spilling across their stomachs.
Saturday morning, Colton had moved all his things into Nick’s bedroom and bathroom.
After a weekend spent mostly in Nick’s bed—other than two trips to the park to toss around the football in the evening sun—it was weird to be back in a button-down and a tie. Back to being Nick’s intern, too.
There was something a little bit naughty about that. Something that made Colton bite his lip and steal a sideways glance at Nick. Nick looked so put together in his dress shirt and his perfectly knotted tie. He was reading emails on his phone and had his coffee cup balanced on his thigh, and to the rest of the world, he looked like the polished executive he was.
But Colton saw through the starch and the cotton and the hair gel and saw Nick like he’d been the night before: back arching, eyes squeezed shut, chanting Colton’s name as his fingers dug into Colton’s hair. Colton had been trying to swallow all of Nick’s cock, deep-throat him until he had his nose buried in Nick’s pubes. He couldn’t quite make it, but Nick seemed to appreciate his efforts.
There were other sides of Nick he knew now. How Nick looked when he was falling asleep, but he didn’t want to close his eyes yet and kept kissing Colton’s fingers to stay awake. The sound of his voice as they talked with the lights off, trading stories and memories and moments from before they’d met. It seemed wild, remembering that there was a whole life he’d had—and that Nick had—before they met. Sometimes it felt like his life hadn’t really begun until Nick had thrown him against the front foyer in the jock house, pinning him to the wall with those pissed-off eyes.
He heard stories about Justin, of course. At first, it was strange to realize the little boy in diapers Nick was describing running through the sprinklers was Justin, but that faded as Nick told more stories, and the idea Colton had had that Nick was a great dad turned into a conviction, a foundation piece of the mosaic that was Nick.
He learned that Nick was a morning person and sometimes hummed in the shower, and he could get quiet and contemplative in the evening when they sat on the balcony together. He was impatient with Netflix shows and had started, but not finished, over two dozen. He loaded his dishwasher in color order and stacked the glasses by height. Most of the time he smiled when Colton called his name, but occasionally he’d be lost in thought and it would take Colton a few tries to get his attention, and when he did, Nick had a faraway, almost worried look in his eyes. Colton tried to kiss that look away whenever he saw it.
Nick liked holding Colton’s hand, and he liked when Colton fell asleep with his head on Nick’s chest and Nick’s fingers tangled in Colton’s hair. Colton loved that, too.
Sunday night, he’d asked Nick if he could text the cowboys a picture he’d snapped while they were at the park: Nick about to toss the football back to Colton, standing five yards away. From where he’d taken the photo, it was easy to see the effortless smile on Nick’s face.
“Sure,” Nick had said. He’d hesitated, though, and because of that, Colton had hesitated, too, before sending the photo.
Working on arm strength, he’d finally said.Sling free!
Justin smiled and saidLooking good, dad!Wes thumbs-upped his photo, and then Colton got a separate text from Wes, sent just to him.You and Nick hanging out this summer?
Yeah.
He waited. Maybe Wes was waiting for him to say more.Yeah, he’s been a big help,orYeah, we throw the football on the weekends, orYeah, the internship really kicks ass.
OrYeah, I think I’m falling in love with him.
Cool, Wes finally texted.
Yeah. Cool.
“Mr. Swanscott?”
They both blinked, startled when a man who looked like he’d stepped off the set ofTop Gunstopped in front of them. He held out his hand to Nick. “I’m Jose. I’ll be your pilot out to the Permian Basin today.”
