by Roni Loren
Hunter grimaced and laced his hands behind his neck. “It shouldn’t matter if it’s the truth or not. Why should anyone care who I sleep with?”
“They probably wouldn’t if you were a regular guy on campus. But you’re not. You’re a star baseball player with the senator father. People are going to pay more attention.”
“People need to get a life.”
“Agreed.” Devon pushed slowly to his feet so he could grab some ibuprofen out of his dresser drawer. His teeth ground together at the pain. “God, I hope that idiot is hurting worse than me. I can’t believe I let him get a rib shot in.”
“He looked way worse than you.” Hunter got up and went over to the mini-fridge to grab a bottle of water. He brought it over to Devon. “You sure you’re going to be all right?”
“I’ll live. I’m just going to be hating life in the morning.” Devon popped two pills and swallowed them down.
Hunter gripped Devon’s elbow. “Come on. Get in bed before you hurt yourself worse moving around so much.”
Hunter guided him to the bed and pulled back the blankets. Devon eased down, leaning on Hunter more than he wanted to, and tried to find some position that didn’t feel like knives were filleting him from the inside out. Hunter grabbed an extra pillow off his own bed and brought it over to put beneath Devon’s head.
“Thanks, man.”
“No worries,” Hunter said, face creased with concern as he looked down at him. “Need anything else?”
“Powerful narcotics”
Hunter smirked. “Fresh out.”
“Fucking useless roommate.”
“I know.” Hunter walked over to the door and flipped off the lights.
Devon closed his eyes and tried to think about anything but the pain. He could hear Hunter leave to go wash up for the night and then heard the creak of the door when he returned a few minutes later. Clothes rustled as Hunter undressed and got ready for bed. It was the comfortable sound of home for Devon. And he tried to focus on that and relax enough to fall asleep, but he never slept on his back like this and all he wanted to do was roll on his side. His eyes grew heavier and his thoughts begin to drift, but then he got a white-hot pain racing up his rib cage. He hissed through the agony, realizing he must’ve dozed and automatically tried to flip to his side.
“You okay?” Hunter called from his side of the room.
Motherfucker. Son of a bitch. Devon ground his teeth trying to keep his curses to himself. “I’m fine. Sorry.”
The floors creaked a minute later and in the dark, his mattress depressed. Devon’s eyelids snapped open. He could barely see Hunter’s profile in the dark, the moonless night not offering much help. “What are you doing, Hunt?”
“Helping. Close your eyes and if I do something wrong or hurt you, tell me.”
“What? Hunter—”
“Shut up, Crowe.” The blankets peeled back and cold air sent goose bumps trailing over Devon’s skin. A large hand slid over his thigh, hesitant at first, but then Hunter moved the touch higher and cupped Devon through his boxers, sending awareness and all the blood in his body straight downward.
“Hunter—”
“Dude, I said shut up. This will help distract you.” Hunter stroked, bringing instant heat burning up Devon’s spine.
Holy shit. Hunter was going to jerk him off. “Hunter, seriously, you don’t have to—I’m fine or I could do this myself.”
Hunter paused and tugged Devon’s boxers down, careful not to jostle him too much, and then stroked Devon skin to skin. “If you can do this yourself, color me impressed.”
And then Hunter leaned over and put his mouth on him.
Everything inside Devon seized at once, and he gripped the sheets in tight fists. “Oh, fuck.”
Devon’s cock had only been half awake from the touch, but now he turned to steel at the hot, slick feel of Hunter’s mouth. God. God. His body was trying to implode with the rush of sensation, not just of physical pleasure but of knowing that it was Hunter’s lips wrapped around him. He could tell Hunter was unsure how exactly to go about this, his movements a little too gentle and tentative, but Jesus. Devon’s eyes wanted to roll back in his head.
“You don’t have to do this. I’ll be okay. I—”
Hunter lifted his head for a second, making Devon mourn the loss of his mouth immediately. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. Just tell me what you need for me to make you feel good.”
“I—” Devon tried to find his words. But he wasn’t noble enough to stop this. If Hunter Riley was going to insist on sucking his cock, he was going to let him. “Just do what you know feels good for you. You don’t have to be gentle, just watch the teeth.”
Hunter grunted his response, and then he was sliding his mouth over Devon’s cock again, sending Devon’s body tumbling into this warm, beautiful place where pain didn’t exist and all that mattered was the man sharing the moment with him and the way he was making him feel. Heat and pressure and slickness. Gripping hands and sliding tongues. And more than that, this utter awe of knowing that Hunter was doing this for him to help but also because on whatever level, he wanted Devon. The guy wasn’t rushing through this or white-knuckling it. He was exploring, taking his time and testing things out. He sucked him hard. Devon groaned. He teased the slit. Devon cursed. The man wasn’t experienced but he wasn’t scared either. And when he tried to take him all the way to the back of his throat, he gagged a little and pulled off for a second, but then went back to the job at hand.
Devon laced his fingers in Hunter’s hair, rolling in the bliss of it all. He was no longer aware of the pain in his ribs. Hell, he wasn’t sure he still had ribs. Maybe they’d melted along with the rest of his bones. He just felt like a knot of burning, aching need beneath Hunter’s mouth. His grip tightened against Hunter’s scalp. “Hunt, pull off, I’m gonna come.”
But Hunter didn’t move, just kept going with even more enthusiasm. Ah, fuck. Devon tried to hold back, knowing that swallowing could be a bit of an acquired pleasure. He didn’t want to push Hunter too far. But when he tapped Hunter’s shoulder in additional warning, Hunter didn’t budge and Devon couldn’t stop. Release ripped through him like a lightning bolt, and he had to bite his lips together from crying out loud enough for the whole house to hear.
Hunter stayed in place through the whole thing and didn’t sit up until it was obvious Devon was done. Devon’s head collapsed onto the pillow as he tried to catch his breath. “Holy fuck.”
Hunter coughed, choking a little.
Devon opened his eyes and turned to look his way, a small laugh spilling out of him. “I have some water left in that bottle if you need to wash it down. I tried to warn you, dude. You don’t have to jump in the deep end your first time.”
Hunter grabbed the water bottle and gulped some down. “Hey, if I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it right. And it wasn’t that bad, just didn’t expect it to hit with such force.”
Devon snorted, the move reminding him his ribs were throbbing, and carefully tugged up his shorts. “I once inhaled some by accident. Thought I was going to die. Never give head upside down.”
Hunter sniffed. “Noted. Did it at least help?”
“I don’t even know my name right now.”
He couldn’t see it, but he could feel Hunter’s smile in the dark. “Good. Maybe you can get some sleep now.”
Hunter moved to get up and Devon reached out, grabbing his arm, needing to touch him, wishing he could pull him down into bed next to him. “Hey.”
“Hmm?”
“What are we doing here, Hunt?”
He blew out a breath, the sound full of deep weariness, and sank back to sit on the bed. “I don’t know, man. I don’t fucking know.”
Devon’s heart squeezed in his chest. Part of him wanted to let all the shit he felt inside spill out, was tempted to tell Hunter that he wanted to be with him so much it hurt, that he loved him, that they could have this every night if he wanted them to.
But he knew it wasn’t that simple, that throwing big declarations would freak him out and send him running, that outside consequences couldn’t be ignored. Hunter didn’t need a boyfriend. He needed space to figure himself out. “It’s okay, you know. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m not asking you to declare something. Just know that either way, it’s okay. We can be friends like we’ve always been. We can be friends who do this. We can be whatever you need right now, all right?”
Hunter ran a hand over the back of his head and looked his way. “I didn’t like seeing you kiss Mark tonight, even for a joke. It pissed me off and made me feel sick all at the same time.”
“Hunt . . .” Unable to resist, Devon grabbed his hand and guided him down next to him. Hunter stretched out alongside him carefully but without protest, heat radiating off of him. Devon leaned his head against Hunter’s shoulder, exhaustion from the whole damn night taking over. “I fucking hated Sparkles, wanted to rip her hair extensions out one by one.”
Hunter made a noise that could’ve been a laugh but was too tired sounding to be classified as such. “We’re a fucking mess.”
“Yeah.”
It was a long few seconds before he spoke again. “You should get some sleep.”
“You can stay here,” Devon said, knowing he shouldn’t ask but unable to help himself.
Hunter sat up. “No, I really can’t.”
The resigned tone in his voice twisted something in Devon’s gut. “Okay, no worries.”
Hunter sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you . . . your ribs.”
“Right.” His ribs. Sure.
“Good night, Dev.”
“Night, Hunt.”
It took a long time for Devon to fall asleep, but eventually his body gave in. He never heard the bedroom door open and shut. He never heard Hunter leave. He didn’t hear anything at all until the shrill ringing of the phone in the early-morning hours. Devon barely found his phone in time, his brain fuzzy and his bones hurting. “Hello?”
“Devon Crowe?” the voice barked.
Devon blinked, trying to shake the sleep off. “Uh-huh.”
“We need you down at the hospital right away. There’s been an accident.”
Chapter 10
Present Day—Dallas
Devon gripped the wheel, watching the mile markers fly by as they headed toward the resort. He didn’t know why he was so angry. Yes, Hunter had bailed on their friendship, but Devon had been the one to let things go too far. And hell, all Hunter had done was taken the advice Devon had given him originally. Devon had told him that if he was bisexual then to choose the other side—find a girl. He’d told Hunter that if he had a choice, to not to ruin everything with his family. Devon had been there, and he wouldn’t wish that kind of alienation on anyone. A crappy family was sometimes better than none. But part of him had started to hope that Hunter would choose him anyway. It’d been a stupid, young-love notion.
“Why did you get in the car that night? Where were you going?” Devon asked.
Hunter shifted in the seat next to him, not looking his way. “I couldn’t sleep. And all I could think about was how unfair it all was. I had all these mixed-up feelings for you. You were my best friend. But there was this attraction. And if I did anything about it for real, my life would fucking blow up around me. My family would freak. My teammates would ostracize me. The press would run with the story of the conservative senator’s son going gay. I’d have to put up with idiots and their prejudices. It just all felt so hard. Overwhelming.”
“Not worth it,” Devon said, his voice flat.
Hunter frowned. “I didn’t know up from down. I went downstairs and started drinking again. And then the house felt claustrophobic. I thought maybe if I took a drive, I could clear my head. I just wanted some air, some distance. I wanted to think through options. I didn’t realize how drunk I was.”
Devon shook his head. “I can still remember getting the call that morning. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life.”
Hunter looked over at him. “I’m so sorry, Dev. Truly. I was an idiot. I still have nightmares where I run into someone else and not just a tree. And I’m sorry it was your car that I took. Mine was blocked in from some people who stayed over after the party.”
He sighed. “I didn’t care about the car. Your dad thought that was the biggest issue. He sent me a new one afterward.”
Hunter’s eyes went wide. “He what?”
“He warned me to keep away from you, but I could have a Mercedes in exchange for my trouble. Nice, right? I told him to keep the fucking car.”
Hunter rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. “He’s such a prick. He thinks he can control everything with his money.”
“That’s because people like him usually can.”
“You mean like he did with me.”
Devon took the exit for the resort. “For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you for choosing what you did over a friendship with me. I wish you would’ve called and let me know you were okay, but I get it. I never expected you to give up anything for me. It was just college. We were young and stupid and horny.”
“Hey, we were not stupid,” Hunter said, sending him a mock-serious look.
Devon laughed. “Fair enough. The other two we had in spades, though.”
Hunter smiled briefly and then peered out at the road again, his mood shifting, voice quiet. “I always planned to call you once I had my feet under me and didn’t have to depend on my family anymore.”
Devon eased off the gas and pulled onto the tree-lined road that led to the resort. “Majors not paying so well these days?”
Hunter frowned in Devon’s periphery. “I picked up the phone a few times but then didn’t know what I would say, so I didn’t call. Then things got busy with the team and I met Macy and . . .”
“And here we are.”
“Yeah.”
“No, I mean, we’re here. This is where you’re staying.”
Hunter looked up at the sprawling stone building as if registering that they had a destination for the first time. “Oh. Right.”
“Want me to pull around the front to drop you off, or did you already check in?”
“No, don’t. I mean, I haven’t checked in yet, but . . .”
Devon slowed the car and turned to look at him. “But what?”
“Do you want to come up?”
Devon lifted his brows.
“I don’t mean—shit, not like that.” He adjusted his ball cap in a way Devon had seen him do time and again on TV after a bad pitch. “I just mean to talk, to catch up. I know it’s late and you probably want to get home, but—”
“I can come up for a few minutes.” The words were out before Devon could evaluate them. Dammit. Going up to his room was all kinds of a bad idea. Hunter was obviously going through something, and Devon knew people did crazy ill-advised crap before they got married. He did not want to be that crap for Hunter. But he also couldn’t walk away from Hunter again, leaving things unfinished still, even if sitting here with him was like poking a hot knife into an old wound.
“Okay.” Hunter nodded, relief touching his eyes. “All right.”
Devon parked the car and waited in the lobby while Hunter got his room key. The check-in process took forever, and when Hunter stepped up next to him, he had a printed itinerary in his hand.
Devon eyed it. “What the hell is that?”
Hunter sniffed. “Apparently Macy signed me up for everything except a damn bikini wax. I thought I was here to relax, not to have a packed schedule.”
Devon took the sheet from him. “Hmm, a mandarin orange sugar scrub. That sounds like something I’d serve at the restaurant.”
“There’s also a rubdown with some sort of butter. Maybe they have a food fetish.”
Devon smirked. “If we were still friends, I’d make a really inappropriate joke right now.”
Hunter’s gaze met his, regret sitting there. “So no chance of us being friends again?”
Devon handed the paper back to him, some undefined emotion etching its way through his chest. “I don’t know, big man. Feels so complicated now. Plus, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re a pretty big deal. Probably not much room in your life for old friends.”
Hunter looked like he might say something else but then grabbed the handle of his luggage and turned away. They made their way to the elevator, and Devon tried not to think about the last time they’d shared an elevator, the way Hunter had held him, what had happened afterward. The years hadn’t dimmed that memory. Every moment was seared right into his DNA.
Hunter pressed the button for the fifth floor. “Truth is, there’s not much room in my life for anything lately. Including, you know, having a life.”
Devon gripped his keys in his pocket like a touchstone. Grip. Let go. Grip. Let go. He still hated damn elevators. And this one felt exceptionally small with Hunter’s looming presence in it. “I thought baseball was your dream.”
“Baseball was my ticket out. Not my dream. Different.” He took off his hat, ran a hand through his messy hair, and tucked the bill of his cap in his back pocket.
Devon frowned and fought the urge to smooth a part of Hunter’s curls that were sticking up. “And did it work? Did it get you out?”
The doors whooshed open, and they stepped into a quiet hallway. Hunter turned to him and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Want to know the truth? No bullshit?”
Devon crossed his arms. “Sure.”
“Financially, I’m free. In every other way, I’m deeper in the shit than I ever was before. I’m drowning, Dev. I’m living someone else’s life, and I’m not sure what to do about it.”
***
Hunter didn’t know where the words had come from, but there they were, sitting heavy in the middle of the hallway and bleeding at his feet. The truth. That’s what it was. Ugly and pulsing and desperate.
And Devon was just staring at him.
