Page 60 of Playing Rough

My mind quiets down when he puts everything into perspective like that. Knight's right—these guys have had my back through hell and back this season. I've gotta trust they'll still be there now.

“Thanks, man,” I say gruffly. “I needed to hear that.”

Knight squeezes my shoulder as we slide out of the booth. "Anytime. And let me know if you need someone in your corner when you decide to pull the goalie."

I chuckle as we head into the bracing air. The tightness I've carried for weeks has started to fade. Knight's confidence in the team steadies my resolve not to hide this—hide us—any longer.

My steps feel lighter as I make my way home through the busy campus. Inside the apartment, I find Riot at the kitchen table, textbooks and notes splayed around him. His hair's a mess, like he's been raking his hands through it. Probably driving himself crazy trying to memorize pages of legal jargon.

He looks up, and his serious face turns into a stunning smile when he sees me. I grin back and drop my keys on the counter.

"Hey you. How was class?"

"Boring as hell." I step behind his chair, leaning down to kiss the side of his neck before kneading the rigid muscles of his shoulders. "Missed you though."

Riot tips his head back with a groan as I work at a stubborn knot and I drop a kiss to his lips because I can’t get enough of him. "God, that feels incredible. I've been hunched over these damn books for hours."

"Poor baby," I tease, leaning down to brush another kiss at the edge of his jaw.

Riot captures my hand, guiding me around to his lap. He cradles my face between his palms, drawing me into a deep kiss that steals my breath and makes my pulse race. "I missed you," he murmurs against my lips.

"Are you kidding? I miss you right now. In case you haven't noticed, Golden Boy, I'm kinda obsessed."

Riot's eyes flash and catch fire. "I've noticed," he says huskily. He pulls me closer, kissing me until my head spins.

When we finally come up for air, Riot searches my face. “Everything okay? You seem like you’re somewhere else.”

I exhale slowly. My stomach’s in knots. I have no idea how he’s going to take this. "We should talk. About us."

Riot tenses. "Yeah? What about us?"

"Don’t worry, Golden Boy. It’s nothing bad,” I say with a smirk as I run my fingers through his hair. He leans into my touch. “I'm tired of hiding this. Hiding us." The soft strands of his hair run between my fingers. "I want to stop pretending we're just friends or teammates. I want to hold your hand on campus or kiss you after games without worrying about who'll see."

Riot's quiet as he takes this in. His thumb traces restless circles against my wrist. "You know I want that, too. More than anything." He sighs. "But if we come out, especially to the team, it could get messy." His jaw tightens. "I don't want to cause issues before the playoffs. And I sure as hell don't want anyone giving you shit over this."

I know Riot's just being protective in that gruff way of his. But his words rub me the wrong way.

"So we just keep sneaking around indefinitely? Only touch when there's locked doors separating us from the world?" I try to rein in the bitter frustration creeping into my voice. "I knew the risks when we started this, Riot. I don't need you protecting me from what people might say. I’ve been dealing with haters my entire life, dude. I can handle it."

Riot's eyes narrow, his mouth thinning into a line. "It's not about protecting you—”

I scoff, and he wraps his hand around my throat and tightens his hold just enough to remind me I’m his.

“I just think we should be smart about this. Coming out now, at the end of the season, it's asking to fuck everything up.”

"And what if I don't give a damn about that?" I challenge. "I'm not gonna pretend to be someone I'm not. Not anymore."

We stare at each other, both breathing hard, his painted fingers around my throat. The first cracks are showing in this thing we're building, threatening to crumble the foundation. All the fears we've buried are clawing their way to the surface now, baring their teeth.

I force a slow exhale, softening my voice. "I'm not trying to rush into this, Riot. But I talked it through with Knight today and I don’t want to hide you anymore." I lean into his hold and wrap my arm around his neck. "I know change is scary as hell. But we need to do this. And I really believe it'll be okay."

Riot searches my face, a flicker of hesitant hope in his stormy eyes. "Knight thinks so? That the team will accept us being together?"

I grin because I know he’s going to give in. I can feel it in the way he’s touching me, his thumb stroking the side of my throat. I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it. "He does. And these guys love you. You think they’re going to turn their backs on us?" I run my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "We need to make fear our bitch. Right?"

Riot exhales harshly, like he's been holding that breath for years. "You're right. I'm just being a paranoid dick. I want this—I want you, out in the open." He grips my jaw in his hand, tilting my head how he wants me before kissing me fiercely, like he's sealing his promise between us.

When we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine. “We’re going to do this.”

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