Page 74 of Role Model

He wasn’t ashamed of his body or anything. Sure, it didn’t quite stack up to the Adonises he was surrounded by, but that didn’t really bother him. It was that there were things he didn’t want Troy to see. Things that would lead to questions that Harris didn’t feel like answering right now.

Troy was already walking toward the surf, shorts clinging to his muscular ass. “Fuck it,” Harris muttered, and followed him. He’d leave the shirt on. It would dry.

The water was warm and wonderful, and Harris laughed when the first wave crashed over him, nearly knocking him over. Troy dived into the next wave, using perfect form. When he surfaced he shook his head, flicking droplets of water into the sunshine like a merman.

The next wave did knock Harris over, but only because his legs were basically jelly at that point.

“Are you okay?” Troy asked. He waded over to him, gripping Harris’s bicep with one strong hand.

Harris coughed a couple of times, and grimaced at the taste of salt water. “I’m fine. Thanks.” He realized he had a hand on Troy’s shoulder, using him for balance. He took a risk, and said, somewhat seductively, “My hero.”

There was a flash of something in Troy’s eyes—heat? fear?—and then he stepped back. “Watch out for sharks.”

“It’s not the sharks you should be worried about. It’s the Portuguese man-of-war.”

“The what?”

“Jellyfish. Their stingers are deadly, and they can grow over a hundred feet long!”

Troy stared down into the water around his body. “They have those here?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

Troy glared at him. “Why’d you have to say that, man?”

Harris laughed. “Sorry. I mean, I think they’re more a South Florida thing.”

“Then why’d you fucking mention them? Jesus, now I can’t think of anything else.” Troy glanced warily out to sea, and Harris couldn’t resist reaching out and gently brushing the back of Troy’s calf with his toe.

To his delight, it made Troy scream.

“Fuck! What the fuck? Was that you?”

Harris was laughing too hard to answer.

“Oh, fuck you.” And then Troy was tackling Harris, both men landing hard on the sand under the shallow water. Harris sat up, still laughing, Troy kneeling between his sprawled legs. Troy was laughing too, really laughing, eyes crinkled, as water dripped from his hair and off the tip of his nose.

He stopped laughing when he noticed the way Harris was staring at him. For a few seconds, they held each other’s gazes, both breathing hard. Obviously Troy wasn’t going to kiss him here, in public, in front of half of his team, but damn. Maybe he wanted to?

Instead, Troy playfully splashed water in Harris’s face and stood up. He offered Harris his hand and pulled him to his feet. There was definitely heat in Troy’s gaze, but Troy looked away before Harris could get lost in it.

Oh yeah. They definitely had some things to discuss later.

Troy was exhausted, slightly sunburned, and a little bit tipsy by the time he returned to his hotel room that night.

It had been, all things considered, a very fun and relaxing day. Ilya had mentioned to Troy that it had been Harris’s idea, getting everyone to go to the beach. Troy wasn’t surprised.

By the end of the afternoon, nearly all of the players, and most of the coaches and other staff, had joined in the fun. At six o’clock, Bood announced that he had managed to book them a bunch of tables at a Mexican restaurant, so the party had moved there.

The only stressful thing about the day was Troy’s struggle to stop himself from openly staring at Harris. He tried to keep some distance from him, especially after he’d been nearly overcome with the need to kiss him in the ocean. He’d looked so adorable, soaked and laughing with the sun highlighting all of the shades of green in his eyes. His wet tank top had clung to his chest, and Troy had seen the outline of chest hair and firm nipples pressed against the fabric.

Troy hadn’t sat at the same table as Harris at the restaurant, but he’d kept stealing glances at him. He’d been able to hear his cheerful voice and ridiculous laugh throughout the meal, and he’d been a bit jealous every time he heard one of the other guys laughing at one of his jokes.

God, Troy had such a crush on this guy.

He was determined to stay in his own room tonight. He could feel the pull from Harris’s room down the hall, but he would resist it. Harris deserved someone way, way, way better than Troy.

Which reminded Troy of his plan to start an official Instagram account, for real this time. He knew he was going to get shit on in the replies, especially if he actively posted in support of sexual assault victims, but fuck it. He could handle it. It was such a small discomfort, in the grand scheme of things.

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