Page 76 of Role Model

Harris’s thumb stilled. “You’ve been dealing with a broken heart all by yourself?”

Troy shrugged one shoulder.

Harris squeezed his hand. “Oh, Troy. Jeez, you’ve had a rough couple of months.”

Troy gazed into Harris’s warm eyes and offered a small smile. “It hasn’t been all bad.”

Harris’s smile in response was so sweet, it took all of Troy’s self-control not to kiss him.

He straightened his shoulders. “So, yeah. It wasn’t my first time, so don’t worry about, um, that. And obviously we both needed some release after...everything. It’s not a big deal.”

Harris let go of his hand, and his smile faded. “Got it. It was just convenient.”

Troy should have been relieved that Harris understood, but he wanted to grab his hand back. Instead, he nodded and said, “Exactly. I liked it a lot, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not sitting here thinking it means more than it does.” Please tell me it means more.

“Right,” Harris said. He laughed, but it sounded forced. “Me neither.”

Troy stood, because the proximity to Harris, especially while on a bed, was too much. “So, I should get to bed, probably. Game day tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Harris stood, and Troy could tell he was hurt. Had he been hoping to stay? To go another round with him? Maybe this time with their clothes off? God, Troy wanted to throw him on the bed and just fucking wreck him. Or maybe just hold him all night and breathe in his scent.

“Good night,” Harris said. He had one hand on the door handle, but he was twisted around to face Troy, like he was hoping Troy would stop him.

“Good night,” Troy said, and turned away. The door opened and clicked shut behind him.

Chapter Sixteen

Troy was sure he looked at least as bad as Ryan Price always used to on planes. His whole body was gripped with an intense feeling of panic that he was just barely keeping in check.

Fortunately, based on the ashen faces and white knuckles of his teammates around him, everyone was battling their own inner wars, so Troy couldn’t feel too embarrassed about it.

The plane hadn’t even taken off yet. They’d just closed the door, and already everyone was on edge.

The games in Florida hadn’t been great, but had been okay considering. They’d lost 3-2 to Tampa, and then 2-1 to Florida, so not the blowouts that people were probably expecting. Troy thought Harris’s insistence that they have fun on their day off probably helped the team mentally.

But it wasn’t helping now. Not when they were sealed inside a death trap exactly like the one that had burst into flames a few short days ago.

The silence on the plane was eerie; the absence of chatter and laughter was only adding to the tension. By the time the plane was racing down the runway, about to lift off, Troy was swallowing a lump in his throat.

He was sitting alone. He wished he was sitting with Harris, but that would only make him fall into bad habits. He knew he’d be grasping Harris’s hand right now if it were anywhere near him.

Ilya was sitting across the aisle, also alone. His head was down, eyes closed, and Troy thought he’d pre-emptively gotten himself into the brace for impact position. Then he noticed his lips moving, forming silent words, and he realized he must be praying.

Weird. He knew Ilya wore that cross around his neck, but he’d never thought of him a religious man. Troy supposed if you prayed at all, though, now was the time.

Just let us get home safe, he thought to no one in particular. His own lazy version of a prayer.

Statistically, he told himself, it was extremely unlikely to be on two planes in a row with mechanical failures. But half an hour into the flight, Troy’s muscles were aching from his tense posture. He glanced over at Ilya and saw him staring hard out the window, as if watching the engine to make sure it stayed together. There was something very unsettling about an anxious Ilya Rozanov.

Troy closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and wished he’d taken some sort of sleeping pill. That would have been smart. Since he hadn’t, he tried to think about something pleasant.

He’d been trying really hard not to fantasize about Harris, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and the sexy images in his head were extremely effective as far as distractions went.

So he let himself drift into a lovely diversion where Harris was rubbing that soft beard all over Troy’s balls while he sucked him off. In this scenario he could actually see Harris, and they’d both taken off their clothes. Damn, he wished they’d at least gotten naked for that one and only hookup.

Troy liked him way too much. He’d come out to him. Maybe in a very backwards kind of way, where he had sex with him first and then told him he was gay, but that was how he’d told Adrian too.

“All right, everyone. It’s story time.”

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