by Eden Finley
Everyone blinks at me a few times but must decide to let it go.
Matt turns to Maddox. “You’re gonna believe a tabloid? Remember when they claimed I was a manwhoring alcoholic?”
“Good point,” Maddox says. “But I dunno. He seemed … weird, right? Like, that isn’t the Jet I know.”
“He looked exhausted,” Lennon says.
“He’s been touring for, what, three years now?” I ask. As if I don’t know how long it’s been.
His band has had a few number ones, and they’re on the brink of being the next biggest thing in music. Everyone’s probably heard of them but could only name one or two songs of theirs. Me? I could name every single song off both their albums.
The band’s rise to stardom started about two years ago with a hit called “Hat Trick Heartbreak.”
Matt nods. “He’s barely had time off, and we’ve rarely seen him. I’m glad he’s finally taking a break.”
Me too, but I call bullshit on his excuse for being here.
Ollie leans in and mutters under his breath. “If you think you’re getting away with that boy band knowledge scot-free, you’re mistaken.”
So close.
The dinner and drinks portion of the night can’t end fast enough, and even though I stop drinking, the others keep going. And going. And going.
As soon as Joni presents me with my new room key, I want to leave.
I want to get to Jet’s cabin before he crashes, but I don’t know how long an unsuspicious amount of time would be in between Jet leaving and me following.
Fuck it, I can’t sit here any longer.
I stand. “I think I’m gonna turn in. Night, guys.”
There’s a chorus of drunken goodnights, and I leave them all glassy-eyed and looking lovingly at each other. And not just toward their partners, but, like, to everyone.
Yay for all that chosen family bond crap.
They’re all like brothers in there, and for the most part, I’ve felt like one of them for the last three years. But then I remember Jet and that one night we had, and I realize I’ve never belonged to their group when I’ve been keeping such a big secret from them all this time.
I can still taste the salty skin of Jet’s neck from where he’d gotten all sweaty while dancing. I remember him tracing every inch of my body with his tongue. But mostly, I remember the way I felt inside him—the way he responded with needy moans and demands for more. He almost seemed shocked at what I was doing to him. It was probably totally bullshit when he said he’d never been fucked like that before, but the way he came unglued in my hands, I really didn’t care.
Now I’m hard at the memory of it, but my body doesn’t understand that the path leading to Jet’s room isn’t a path leading to a repeat.
No matter how much I’d love it to be.
The plan is to clear the air between us once and for all and to call a truce on what’s been years of avoidance.
And maybe, he has the same plan because when I round the corner to my old cabin, he’s not in bed like he said he’d be. He’s sitting on the top step of his deck with his guitar in his hands.
I watch the tattoos on his arm dance as his muscles contract. I remember tracing over the images of the guitar and the vintage microphone with my finger the night we were together. They’re surrounded by music notes, and the shading makes his whole arm pop like the images are in 3D.
He strums no real tune—at least, not one I recognize—and hums with that husky and deep voice of his that only comes out when he sings.
Jet stops as soon as he senses my presence. “They’ve already sent your bags to your new room.”
“I know. It’s that one right there.” I point to the cabin next to his.
“Of course, it is. Sorry you got stuck next to the kid.”
“Jet …”
He stands. “My name’s Jay, or don’t you read the tabloids?”
I never understood why they had to change his name, but between his real name Jethro, his nickname Jet, his brother calling him JJ, and the world knowing him as Jay, I can’t help wondering how he keeps track.
“Can we not do this?” I ask.
“Do what?” He gives me nothing but attitude.
I grunt. “For someone who wants to be seen as an adult, you’re sure not acting like one.”
He opens his mouth to talk back, but I cut him off.
“Look, what happened between us was years ago. We should be able to put it behind us and move on.”
“Yeah. You already did that. With Bryce. So why don’t you go find him? I thought he’d be here.”
I swallow hard. “We broke up.”
It may be quick, but I see it. The flash of happiness in Jet’s eyes. He covers it quickly and clears his throat. “Sorry.”
I shrug. “It’s for the best. I couldn’t see that getting back together with him was a horrible idea until I made the mistakes to prove it. You know, over and over and over again.”
Jet looks triumphant. “I tried to warn you. The morning after we …”
I scoff. “Bullshit. You practically pushed me to call him.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“Then how do you remember it?”
Chapter Four
JET
THE MORNING AFTER
Never—like never, ever, ever, ever—had I woken up so sated, so loose, and yet so achy at the same time.
An arm was draped over my middle, the heat of Soren making my back sticky with sweat. I was hard again because, apparently, my body hadn’t had enough ravishing from the hockey god. No, sex god.
I rolled over to face him, and in the bright light of early morning, I’d never seen someone so beautiful. He had high cheekbones for a guy, and his light-brown hair fell across his forehead. His morning scruff was thicker than I could grow in a week, and his lips were plump, making me want to run my fingers over them.
“Why are you staring at me?” he mumbled, and I laughed. He hadn’t yet opened his eyes.
“Wondering if I should wake you up or sneak out of here.” I didn’t want to pull a disappearing act, but that was the deal with one-night stands.
His large arm pulled me closer. “Waking me up is mean, but I’ll take that over you leaving.”
“Is it still mean if I wake you up with another round?”
“Mmm, less mean.” He finally opened his eyes, and the shine in his honey-colored gaze made my breath catch in my throat.
“You’re kinda beautiful,” I whispered. It took all my energy not to cringe at how stupid I sounded.
Instead of thinking I’m an idiot, Soren’s lips turned up. “I feel objectified.”
“Good. Because that’s exactly how I meant it.”
A firm hand gripped my ass, and Soren rolled over, pulling me on top of him. “You were saying something about another round?”
Even though I was achy all over, my cock didn’t care. It wanted more of Soren—as much as it could get.
“What’d you have in mind?”
Soren’s hand trailed down my back, and his finger slipped into the crease of my ass. I must’ve winced or tensed because he pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Are you sore?”
“A little.”
“Okay, there goes that idea.” He gripped my hips and pulled me up. “Wiggle up here. I’ll suck you off.”
“Nnghh.”
Soren shoved an extra pillow behind his head. “I take it you like that idea?”
“I love that idea.” I crawled my way up the bed until I was straddling his chest.
He looked up at me with this smile that took my breath away, and I immediately knew this hookup would be hard to forget. Not the sex, but his face, his body … the way his hands ran up and down my thighs.
Just like last night, this guy did things to me I didn’t understand. He brought new sensations that were indescribable. And finally—finally—I was finding out firsthand what the huge fuss was over sex.
I inched closer, m
y cock brushing his lips, until he opened wide and sucked the tip into his mouth.
I wanted more.
My cock disappeared between his lips. His tongue swirled around me, and then his cheeks hollowed as he sucked me deep.
I had to hold on to the bed frame, or I was likely going to hit my head on the wall in front of me.
Through shuddery breaths and grunting, I found a steady pace without choking him. “You look even hotter with my cock in your mouth.”
He hummed around me.
My whole body vibrated.
One of his hands remained on my hip while his other began jerking himself. Even though I couldn’t see it, the motion of his hand and knowing what he was doing had my dick leaking.
I pulled out to the tip, and precum smeared on Soren’s lips and chin. “Can I come in your mouth?”
Soren nodded.
The sight of my cock sliding in and out had my balls drawing up tight. He took me all the way to the root easily, and I was able to move in fast and shallow movements.
His hand stilled, and he moaned around me, shuddering and writhing beneath me. Even through his orgasm, he kept sucking me off.
My breathing ended up syncing with my thrusts until my orgasm hit, and Soren swallowed me down, every last drop.
He was still licking me clean when I managed to climb off and collapse beside him.
Soren reached for the bedside table for tissues to clean himself up.
When he was done, he rolled to face me.
I wanted to pass out again. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Gotta catch my breath.”
“No rush.” His words seemed genuine and made my stomach annoyingly fluttery. “Checkout isn’t until ten.”
As tempting as it was to ask to stay and order room service, I knew I needed to get out of there before I was too far gone over a guy I wasn’t going to see again. I was going on tour. He was a hockey player. Anything past one night was doomed for us the minute our eyes met in his locker room last night.
Once I got my breathing under control again, I climbed out of bed and went in search of my clothes. They had kinda gotten thrown all over the place in the rush to get rid of them.
I found my boxer briefs and jeans but only one sock and no shoes or shirt. Soren watched me search with a lazy smile on his face.
“Can I see you again?” he asked.
“Umm, sure.” I should’ve said no, I knew that, but I couldn’t. My mouth, brain, and cock wouldn’t let me. I got on my knees and found my shoes under the bed, and when I stood upright again, Soren was staring at me as if he was expecting me to give more information—like when. “My band just got signed to a record label, so we need to fly to L.A. to record the song you love so much and talk albums and tours, but I think I’ll be back in a few weeks.”
His face lit up. “That’s amazing, Jet. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Soren frowned at my nonchalance. “You don’t sound excited. Isn’t this every musician’s dream?”
Yeah, it was, and I hated I couldn’t get excited over it. “Yes and no. We got a contract, but it comes with stipulations.”
“Like what?”
Before I could answer, Soren’s phone buzzed on his nightstand. He reached for it and clearly wasn’t happy about whoever was calling. His finger paused on the answer button, and then he glanced at me.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s my ex. We broke up because I wasn’t out.”
“Ah. And now that you are, he wants you back.”
Soren pursed his lips. “Maybe. I’ve been trying to call him since I came out, but he’s been ignoring me.”
“Answer it.”
His gaze flicked to mine. “What?”
“I mean, if you ask me, going back to an ex is never a good idea because you broke up for a reason, right? But you’ve been trying to call him, so it’s clear you’re not done with him.”
Soren sighed. “I thought he was my hat trick.”
“Hat trick?”
“The perfect package. Everything I want in a partner. Hot, sweet, smart enough to hold a real conversation.”
If he was looking for someone with brains, I was shit out of luck.
The phone finally stopped ringing.
“Call him back,” I say, my voice soft.
“What about …” He waved a finger in between us.
Did I want more of Soren? Hell yes. But I also knew there was no future here.
I rounded the bed and leaned in. His lips were warm, and I had to force myself to pull back and make our last kiss sweet. “If things don’t work out with what’s-his-face, then totally call me, but don’t let a one-night stand get in the way of reconnecting with your … hat trick.”
Soren’s mouth dropped open, but before he could say anything, my phone buzzed.
“My turn. Although I doubt mine is as exciting as an ex calling.” Mainly because I didn’t have an ex. I slumped at my brother’s name on my screen. “Nope. Just Matt wondering where I am.”
“Matt?” Soren asked.
“Yeah. My keeper,” I joked.
“Your keeper?”
“Matt Jackson’s my brother. I thought you knew that?”
From the freaked-out look in Soren’s eyes, it was clear he hadn’t known. And a second after the revelation, he switched from one-night stand to someone who stared at me the same way Lennon and Ollie and all of Matt’s friends did—like I was a fucking kid.
Even if an ex wasn’t involved, with that one look, this thing was over.
Defeated, I gave up my hunt for my other sock, grabbed my shirt by my feet, and made my way to the door.
“Thanks for the fun.” I left Soren staring after me with his stupid expression.
Chapter Five
Soren
The night-time breeze in Fiji picks up and has a cold bite to it now, but it’s still not as cold as Jet’s glare. Even though I can barely see him because the only light is coming from tiki torches lining the pathways and a light from inside Jet’s cabin, I know the stare he’s giving me is full of annoyance.
“Why are you even here?”
I run a hand through my hair. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. Coming to an all couples retreat as a single kinda sucks.”
Jet laughs. “I bet, but I actually meant here. Like, in this spot, dredging up old shit that doesn’t need revisiting.”
My gaze rakes over him because I don’t know how to answer that. He’s thinner than the last time I saw him, and even though he looks exhausted, he’s still one of the most stunningly attractive men I’ve ever seen.
“You look good, Jet. I just wanted to say that.” Lamest excuse ever.
“Liar. I look fucking tired.”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Nodes.”
“Liar.” I throw his own word back at him.
“Needed a break from touring. Matt and Noah had been bugging me about trying to make it out here, so I made it happen.”
There’s still something he’s holding back. I’m sure of it.
“Can we hang out while we’re here?” I find myself asking.
Jet’s lips form a thin line. “We will be anyway. No doubt, you motley crew of athletes will be all competitive and grunty with each other and organize some stupid extreme sport to measure dick sizes without having to whip them out.”
“Have you met Talon and Miller? They’d whip theirs out for the sake of it. And then sword fight with them.”
Jet relents with a small smile. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“Besides, most of our contracts forbid us from partaking in dangerous off-season activities, so you won’t be subjected to extremism.” Although, I’m currently contract-less so I guess that doesn’t apply to me.
“Still, I’m sure we’ll find times where we’re hanging out by default,” Jet says.
Meaning, he doesn’t want to make time for me on his vacation. I guess I have to respect that.
Jet stands. “That’s the problem. I wouldn’t take back what happened between us for anything.”
Wait, what?
“I would take back leaving you that next day. I’d take back telling you to get back together with your ex-boyfriend who, according to the guys, is a dickface. But most of all, I’d take back the way you looked at me once you found out who I was. And the way you treated me in Tampa. I don’t need a babysitter. Thanks.”
“That’s not what—”
“Goodnight, Caleb.”
He first-named me. There’s no coming back from that.
The sound of the Pacific Ocean crashing against the shoreline a few feet outside my cabin does nothing to lull me to sleep. I toss and turn all night, smelling nothing but coconut and some fruit I can’t place. The whole cabin smells like it, and while it’s nice on the nose, I can’t help wishing for the overpowering scent of Jet’s cologne which is a mix of sweet orange with a hint of cinnamon. Add in the subtle scent of sweat and it could be bottled and called Jet. No, Jay.
I hate the name Jay. Especially on him. He deserves a name that’s more unique. Jay doesn’t suit him.
Sleeplessness means I relive my conversation with Jet over and over, relive the night we hooked up, and then remember the harsh words I left him with the night in Tampa two years ago.
I don’t know why I have the need to clear the air between us, and I don’t know what else I can say other than what I’ve already said, but I want … shit, I don’t know what I want. I asked to hang out with him, but I don’t know what I meant by it. Do I want to go see the sights with him or have him naked in my bed?
Jet and I can’t have a thing. The guys would kill me.
But I know there’s no way I can stay away. He’s still the guy who changed my life. He’s still the one who gave me the courage to face my teammates and say two simple words with a weighted meaning that is so far from simple. “I’m gay.”
