Page 49 of Jacked
I swallow and glance around at the other tables. He’s not bothering to keep his voice down now that he’s all worked up and ready to tackle the injustices of the world, but no one else really seems to be paying any attention. They’re all too engrossed in their own food and conversations to worry about ours.
I guess he’s right, I don’t have to tell them if I don’t want to. The problem is, the thought of hiding it and acting like it’s something to be ashamed of doesn’t sit any better than the idea of telling them does.
“If I started dating a guy though, I wouldn’t want him to feel like a secret.” I take a huge bite of my sandwich and avoid looking at him for a minute, not quite ready to see his reactionright away. When I finally do look over at him again, he’s smiling and his hand is resting in the middle of the table like he just can’t stop himself from letting it creep closer.
“I’m sure any guy you decide to date will understand that it’s going to take you some time to get there.”
Is that his subtle way of sayinghewants to date me or is he just being supportive? My stomach flutters and dances and my fingers twitch to reach for him. You’d think kissing him in front of an entire club full of people last night would have been harder than just touching his hand this morning, but that was a gay club and this… isn’t.
My heart thunders wildly and I drag in a breath, uncurling my fingers and slowly sliding my hand forward. Just one inch at a time until my fingertips brush against his. Sparks light up my nerve endings from the barely there touch, and he grins so wide you’d think I climbed under the table to blow him, not brushed my damn fingertips against his.
“So, what did your brother say?” I ask, circling back to the thing that’s botheringhimthis morning.
“I sent a picture to the group chat I have with him and Nolan, and they were mostly confused.”
I frown. “What do you mean? What’s so confusing about you telling them you’re bi?”
He chuckles and takes a sip of his water.
“That’s the thing, I didn’t actuallysayanything, I just sent them a picture of me wearing the shirt and figured they were smart enough to work out what it meant. I woke up this morning to a bunch of messages asking if I even knew what the shirt meant.” He rolls his eyes and then shakes his head. “So I texted back confirming that I do know and I’m bisexual. I haven’t looked at their responses yet.” He wrinkles his nose.
I nudge my foot against his under the table like he did to me earlier and jerk my chin towards his phone, resting face down on the table.
“Look now. I’m sure they only said nice things.”
He lets out a breath and flips his phone over. I try not to fidget or bounce my knee while I wait for him to read the messages. I’m nervous for him, but I don’t think he has any need to be. I’m still just imagining how my brother will react, I think. Not that I expect him to be openly hostile, but it’s hard to know what he’ll actually say. Last I knew, he didn’t even think bisexuality was a thing. It was gay, period. I thought that for a long time too.
The tension leaves Slater’s shoulders and his lips twitch with a fond smile. He turns his phone around to show me. There’s a string of texts full of “congratulations” and dozens of Pride flag emojis and eggplants.
“That’s great, dude.” I hope he can’t hear the tightness in my voice. I really am happy for him.
He nods and puts his phone away again, looking noticeably lighter now.
After that the conversation shifts to totally normal shit. We talk about the Cubs’ pitcher who tore his rotator cuff, and I tell him about the Strong Man competition Silas is doing next weekend, and it feels exactly the way it always does between us. Easy, simple, fuckingnice.
After we finish eating and throw our garbage away, I do a couple of quick stretches to loosen up my hamstrings again and Slater makes a face.
“Come on, you can’t expect me to run home on a full stomach.”
“No quitters in this gym, bro.” I slap him on the back.
“We’re not at the gym.” He’s stretching, even though he’s still arguing with me.
“Life is the greatest gym of all,” I deadpan, and he fakes a gag. “Tell you what, let’s make it interesting.” I grin. “First one home decides how we spend the next hour before I have to get to Sweat.”
Slater doesn’t look that impressed with the suggestion at first, but then it seems to hit him what exactly I’m offering. He goes from mildly annoyed to intrigued to determined in a matter of seconds. He’s working on stretching his second hamstring, and as his trainer I know I should give him a chance to finish before I call a start to the race, but as his friend and competitor—among other things?—I can’t resist the opportunity to get a jump on him.
“Go!” I shout. I take off running, hearing him squawk indignantly as I sprint through the intersection where the Stop hand is already flashing in warning, leaving him in the dust.
SLATER
AJ might have thought he was funny getting a jump start on the race, but I’ve spent a little time wandering around over the past couple of weeks getting a better feel for the area. And I happen to know a shortcut home. I take a left instead of waiting for the light then cut through a park a couple of blocks down.
The egg sandwich I ate sits heavy in my stomach, but the prize he offered up is more than enough motivation for me to push through it. I think about all the things we could spend an hour doing while I run, sweat dripping down the back of my neck and my cock swelling inconveniently in my jock.
I round the corner to our building at the same time AJ appears from the other side. The look of surprise on his face when he sees me is almost enough to make me laugh and slowme down. Almost. Eyes on the prize, bitch. I sprint for the door, fumbling with my keys just long enough for AJ to catch up.
He crowds up behind me as I slide my key into the lock, his hot breathing puffing against the back of my neck, the heat of his body radiating against mine, erasing the inches of space between us. My cock swells to full mast and electricity races down my spine. I tug the door open and he tries to shoulder past me. I laugh and throw an elbow, hitting him in the gut. AJ grunts and the sound reminds me of the noises he made last night when I had my hand around his cock and his nipples in my mouth. My cock jerks and my balls get heavier. I’m tempted to spin around and tackle him right here on the stairs, yank his shorts down and bury my nose against his sweaty balls. But something tells me our neighbors might complain about it if any of them happen to need the stairs in the next hour.
