Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
There. I did it. I said his name and it didn’t sound weird or laced with longing. Or did it? I cast a sideways glance at Evan just as he twisted to face me from his perch on the sofa with a look I couldn’t quite read.
“I noticed. You won’t believe this. She said she was testing a rumor.”
“What kind of rumor?” I asked, suddenly aware of my heart thundering in my chest.
“She said she heard Gabe’s gay.”
My mouth suddenly felt like the Sahara. I licked my parched lips but kept my eyes locked on the preseason football game on the flat-screen until I found my voice again. “Where’d she hear that?”
“I didn’t ask. Who cares if he is? To be honest, I think she said it so that I wouldn’t think it was weird that she was flirting with two guys who happen to have you in common. Teammate, roommate…see what I’m saying? She’s after you, man. Whoa! Did you see that play?”
I held up my hand for a high five, grateful for the diversion. I didn’t want to think about Amanda. She was old news, and I had a hard time believing she’d bother going out of her way to make me jealous. Then again, why would she make out with Gabe and then tell Evan that she’d heard he was gay? I didn’t get it.
The whole thing confused the fuck out of me. I spent all Sunday afternoon and evening sifting through my abbreviated conversation with Gabe, analyzing and overthinking his tone while doing my best to forget how fucking good it felt to kiss him. And the memory of that whispered touch of his finger on my crack and his rigid cock pressed against mine was enough to make me dizzy with desire.
I had bigger things to worry about than Amanda.
I’d kissed a boy and I’d liked it. And now, I was obsessed.
Monday was gonna suck. I was sure of it. Avoidance only worked in certain situations. I’d have to brush off my seventh-grade theater chops and act like Joe fucking Cool. Or at least like it was totally normal for a team captain to drunkenly make out with a new teammate and star player.
My low expectations proved to be a blessing. Sort of. Coach introduced Gabe to the team Monday morning, then gave us a set of drills and told us to get to work. End of discussion. Gabe nodded a brief greeting when I said hello but otherwise, he ignored me. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. He bumped my arm in the locker room after practice and gave me an awkward, hooded look before pretending to search for something in his workout bag.
“Hey. Are you okay? You were pretty drunk the other night.”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” My bored tone in no way matched my erratic heartbeat.
“So we’re cool?” he asked, fixating on my mouth with an intensity that brought Saturday night back to mind in full color. His passionate kiss, roving hands, and his thick cock riding mine through two layers of precum-soaked cotton.
I licked my lips and looked away. “Of course,” I grunted.
Gabe didn’t move for a long moment. I wished I was brave enough to meet his gaze again, but I couldn’t do it. Not now. I stared at his hands and swallowed hard when a strong wave of déjà vu immediately reminded me of how fucking amazing it felt when he squeezed my ass and grinded his shaft against mine. My instant blush probably gave me away, but thankfully he didn’t comment on my splotchy skin. He nodded and then hiked his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the locker room. I breathed a sigh of relief and told myself to snap out of it, erase the memory, and restart.
But I couldn’t let it go.
I thought about him nonstop. And when I wasn’t daydreaming about Gabe, I researched. I read every article I could find regarding bisexuality. The definition simply stated a bisexual person was attracted to both sexes. However, further research indicated that romantic attraction and sexual attraction varied. I might not be attracted to a man and a woman in the same way, at the same time, or to the same degree. For a guy who thrived on order and routine, the concept of sexual fluidity confused the hell out of me. Was this my new identity? I’d always been into women. Sure, I’d thought some men were hot too, but I hadn’t wanted to fuck them. Or maybe I had, but fear kept me from considering it a possibility. Until Gabe.
In the midst of grappling with the “new” me, I decided to test my physical attraction to men and Google some gay porn. My finger hovered over the return key for a good few minutes. My palms were slick, my forehead glistened with sweat, and my heart thumped like crazy. I wrote a disclaimer in my head in the unlikely event I had to explain the man-on-man action in my browser history. Of course, I planned to delete it but with my luck, my computer would freeze and the technician assigned to fix it would be the brother of one of my teammates. See? The anxiety was real. But I finally manned up and pushed Enter.