Page 35 of The Quarterback
He turned, and there was Nick. Waiting for him. Smiling at him. Smiling because of him.
He tore off his helmet and let it go. It never hit the grass, just disappeared. So did the crowds, the people clogging the field between him and Nick. Everyone faded until there was only Nick standing on the fifty-yard line and Colton, sprinting toward him, heart going wild.
He skidded to a stop. He reached for Nick, his hands trembling. Nick reached back, his own touch landing on Colton’s sweat-soaked face. His fingers were cool, ten points of heaven that brushed over his jawline. Colton laid his hands on Nick’s hips. Tugged. Pulled him close, until Nick’s body was against his—finally, fucking finally, oh my God—and he could feel every inch of Nick’s legs, his hips, his stomach, his shoulders, fitting perfectly against his own.
Nick cradled his cheek. Stared into his eyes.Colton,he whispered. He didn’t have to say anything else. It was all there in his eyes, in the way he looked at Colton. Pride and joy, and even…
Even in his dream, Colton didn’t dare think the word.
Colton’s fingers squeezed Nick’s hips. He leaned in, and in, their faces close together, so close he could count Nick’s eyelashes. See faded freckles on his nose. Feel his breath against Colton’s lips, his cheeks.
“Nick,” he breathed. “I want you so badly.”
He crushed their lips together as if Nick had Colton’s heart hidden inside him. He pulled Nick closer, wrapped his arms around him—
He jerked awake.
Gasping, Colton hurled himself backward, scrambling to the far side of the bed. He’d been hugging a pillow like it was a person. Jesus, he’d been on top of the pillow, humping it, and he was so fucking hard it hurt. He curled forward, hissing as he pushed his palm on his raging cock.
The hotel room was dark, only the alarm clock and a slight gap in the closed curtains casting any light. It was enough to trace the outline of Nick’s body. He was snoring softly in his own bed. He’d rolled and was facing Colton, one hand tucked under his pillow and the other grabbing the edge of the sheet.
What the fuck was that? He’d been dreaming… about Nick?
No no no no no—
Something opened inside him, like a drain plug pulling loose. He tried to breathe, clawing at the bed as he gulped for oxygen that wasn’t there. It was like he’d been sacked, like he’d taken a linebacker to the center of his pads. He was free-falling, about to slam into the grass.
He wasn’t attracted to men. Hewasn’t. He knew that. He’d been in locker rooms for half his life, had been naked around more men than he could count. He’d never looked at a guy and thought, Yep, that’s what I like. Never trailed his eyes over a strong back and tight ass and long legs and wanted to put his hands on the guy or bury his face in the cleft of his cheeks. Never looked at another man’s cock anddesired. He knew, in ways other guys might not, that he wasn’t attracted to men. He’d had ample opportunity to find out.
He’dneverhad a sex dream about a guy before.
Nick setting his wineglass down, taking Colton’s hand. Their fingers sliding together—
Nick’s breath on his lips as he stepped into Colton’s arms, Colton’s hand resting on Nick’s shoulder.
Nick’s body against his own, pressed so close, head to toe, Colton’s arms wrapped around him—
He groaned as his cock jerked. Fuck, he was going to come. He was going to come from justthinkingabout Nick, never mind touching himself. He pawed at his shorts, yanked the drawstring, and managed to get the waistband of his boxers down before he came. He shuddered, biting his lip, and fell to his side before rolling to his belly as he soaked the comforter with his come.
Nick’s face filled his mind. The curve of his smile. The imagined taste of his kiss—
He squeezed his eyes closed and buried his face in the sheets. His hips moved on their own, humping the mattress, chasing the last of his orgasm. Nick. Nick’s kiss, Nick’s body. Nick’s arms around him.
The way Nick looked at him.
No no no no no—
He wasn’t attracted to men, but he’d just come to the imagined feel of Nick in his arms and the dream memories of Nick loving him, of the two of them taking awildly differentturn in their friendship. He clenched the sheets in his fists.
Didn’t Reddit memes and Twitter retweets joke about things like this?I’m not gay, but twenty bucks is twenty bucks. I’m not gay, but I was drunk.Colton had had two beers with Nick at Brad’s bar. The walk over there had sobered him after dinner with Kimbrough, and two beers over four hours was never going to touch a guy his size. He couldn’t even blame alcohol.
I’m not gay, but if the right guy comes along…
Nick.
He rolled his face against the sheets and stared across the divide between their beds. Nick was still snoring, oblivious to the earthquake that had ruptured Colton’s world. The hurricane bearing down on him.
I’m not gay.
