Coming Attraction (Coastal College Football Book 2)

by Felix Brooks

  What was that guy doing at the Parrot? He’d been there with gay friends before, but just him and Paige? That didn’t make sense. Unless they were meeting someone. But no, they walked in Waseem’s direction.

  “Hey, Brent, Paige. What brings you here?”

  Brent shrugged. “Felt like getting off campus. Remembered you said you’d be here. Are we interrupting anything?”

  “Not yet. I’m glad to see you, actually.”

  Brent scanned the room and nodded. “Garon.”

  “Yeah. And of course he had to say something shitty.”

  Brent squeezed Waseem’s shoulder. “Don’t let him get to you. Remember, you’re the one who dumped him.”

  Paige picked up a menu. “Want to order some chicken strips or something?”

  “Does my troubled love life bore you?” Waseem asked.

  “No, but I don’t think it’s healthy for you to dwell on that loser,” she said. “What he did could have hurt people. Outing Emmett to a gossip site, for the sake of a few hundred bucks? That sucks. Anything he says to you is out of spite, so don’t listen to him.”

  She was right. The trouble was, Waseem was finding it hard to trust men ever since that happened. It had never been a problem before—he didn’t need to trust them, because he wasn’t interested in a relationship. Garon was different. He got Waseem thinking about the future, and those thoughts didn’t go away just because he and Garon split up.

  For the first time in his life, Waseem wanted something more permanent, even though he wouldn’t say that out loud. It made him vulnerable in ways he hadn’t been before: Wanting someone to like him. Wanting to like them in return. Not just hot bodies groping in the dark.

  Brent put his arm around him. “If the guy is bugging you, we can go somewhere else.”

  A shiver ran over Waseem as Brent’s juniper-lime scent reached him. Over the past couple of weeks, he’d showered next to the guy nearly every day, and Waseem’s temperature was running hotter.

  “No, let’s stay here.” Waseem ordered a couple of baskets of chicken fingers for them to share.

  They found a table while they waited for their order. Paige sipped a martini and Brent an icy mug of beer. When a song came on that he liked, Waseem took Paige’s hand and led her to the dance floor.

  “What are you two really doing here?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I think Brent is worried about you. You haven’t been yourself since you and Garon broke up. And maybe Garon’s not the only reason for that.”

  Waseem nodded. “It doesn’t help that my two best friends are now dating each other, and I feel like a fifth wheel.”

  She moved in closer and rested her hands at his waist, swaying to the rhythm of the music. “So hang out with Brent and me. To be honest, I’m kind of sick of Brent. I could use a change.”

  Waseem blinked, then noticed the gleam in her eye. “I can’t always tell when you’re joking.”

  “It’s my ironic sense of humor. People don’t always get me. It’s pretty hilarious seeing how upset some people get at my Facebook posts.”

  “Do you explain that it’s satire?”

  “Nope. My mantra is, fuck those people.”

  Waseem laughed. He realized it wasn’t just Jake and Emmett dating that had Waseem feeling so lonely. Now that Amber was dating Demonté, he saw less of her, too. He missed having a female perspective on things. “You’re okay, Paige.”

  “Some people would disagree.”

  “Yeah, well, fuck those people.”

  She fist-bumped him.

  They went back to the table, where two baskets of chicken strips were waiting, one with spicy barbecue sauce, and one with honey mustard. Paige sat on Brent’s lap and kissed his cheek. “Miss us?”

  “You abandoned me.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t do that to my fake boyfriend.”

  Waseem swallowed down the jealousy that rose in his throat. It was ridiculous. He knew Paige and Brent were just friends, but damn, he wished Brent were sitting on his lap. It would be nice to hold that strong body in his arms.

  He sipped his club soda, the bubbles awakening his senses. “Do people think you’re a couple?”

  “Probably half the people we know,” Brent said. “It doesn’t help that she’s always trying to make out with me.”

  “Not always. Just when some asshole tries hitting on me.”

  Brent made a face. “I’ve told you, I’m not attracted to lesbians.”

  “I’m not attracted to you, either.” She leaned toward him and said in a low, husky voice, “But what’s a little tongue between friends?”

  Brent caressed her hair. “I think one martini is probably enough for you tonight.”

  She kissed his forehead, then went back to her chair and dipped a chicken strip into the honey mustard sauce. She took a bite and her eyes rolled back in her head as she chewed. “You have to try these,” she said to Brent, dunking a strip into the sauce and handing it to him. “They’re fantastic.”

  Waseem grinned. “You two really are cute together. Your girlfriend doesn’t get mad?”

  “Holly knows I don’t like dick.” Paige sipped her martini.

  They ordered another round of drinks. Paige fed Brent the olive from her martini, and the easy camaraderie between them hollowed out Waseem’s stomach. He’d never had anything like that. Maybe with Jake, but now Jake was with Emmett.

  “You are too damn quiet tonight,” Brent said to him. “Too bad you can’t drink.”

  “Aren’t you Baptist?” Waseem asked him. “I thought they weren’t supposed to drink, either.”

  “My parents are Baptist. I’m not.”

  “I don’t get the concept,” Paige said, “that when the Bible says Jesus turned water into wine, it means grape juice. As if, in the Middle East two thousand years ago, with no refrigeration, you could keep grape juice in an unfermented state.”

  Brent ignored her. He asked Waseem, “So you actually pray five times a day? Like, on a schedule and everything?”

  “It’s not difficult. I’ve got an app for it on my phone. I like the ritual of it. It’s peaceful.”

  Brent nodded, like he was trying to understand.

  “I probably pray five times a day, too,” Paige said. “I just don’t have to face Mecca when I do it. Which is good, because I have no sense of direction.”

  “I don’t think saying ‘Lord give me strength’ under your breath counts as a prayer,” Brent teased.

  Paige narrowed her eyes at him. “Hey, I’m an incredibly spiritual person.”

  “I believe you.”

  “I am.” She rolled her eyes and said to Waseem, “I’m a universalist. And I’m looking into earth religions, too, because I think they’ve got a lot to teach us.”

  That was a little out there for him, but he respected Paige’s desire to explore other belief systems. Even if she was irreverent about it.

  He turned to Brent. “If you’re not Baptist, what are you?”

  Brent leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “I’m still figuring that out. My parents lost their shit when Emmett came out on national television. At Christmas, they were like, ‘I hope you don’t hang out with him. I don’t want you exposed to that kind of behavior.’ ”

  “But it’s okay that your best friend is a lesbian?” Waseem asked.

  “They don’t know she’s a lesbian.”

  Paige flipped her hair off her shoulder, then combed her fingers through it. “They wouldn’t believe that someone as femme as me is into women.”

  “If you were butch, they still wouldn’t know,” Brent said. “My mom has no idea her hairdresser is gay, and she’s been going to him for as long as I can remember.”

  “Are you sure he’s gay, or is that just a stereotype?” she asked.

  “He’s got photos of him and his husband displayed at his station. It’s obvious to anyone who’s not completely clueless. Mom just assumes it’s his brother.”

  Waseem chuckled
. “My parents struggled with my orientation when I first came out. They were incredibly supportive, but they had to unlearn a lot of assumptions.”

  “Mine too, especially my dad,” Paige said. “I mean, the fact that I even have a sexual identity freaks him out. In his head, I’m still twelve years old. The thought of me going down on my girlfriend is too much for him to handle.”

  Waseem bit his cheeks to keep from smiling at her frankness.

  “Wouldn’t it be the same if you were dating a guy?” Brent asked.

  “No, because then it would just be ‘normal’ sex.”

  Waseem scowled at her, trying to understand. “Because straight couples don’t have oral sex?”

  “Of course not! Or the ‘other kind,’ either,” she said in a teasing whisper. “Only gay men do that.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but lots of gay men don’t do that,” Waseem said.

  “And lots of lesbians do.” She grinned.

  Brent looked at her sideways. “I don’t even want to know.”

  She pushed against Brent’s upper arm. “Not like I would tell you.”

  They finished up the chicken strips and hit the dance floor. Paige was a fantastic dancer, naturally graceful and unselfconscious. Brent was into it, too—the sway of his hips and the thrust of his pelvis sent a thrill through Waseem’s body. He was half-hard watching the guy.

  This wasn’t going to work. Brent was ridiculously attractive, with that strong, angular face and warm honey-brown eyes. Straight blond hair thick enough to run your fingers through. And a tight, round ass Waseem would love to squeeze.

  Waseem couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to throw the guy down on a bed and strip him bare. Waseem was versatile, so he’d be just as happy to top the guy as to bottom. But he shouldn’t be thinking about any of that. Brent would probably be horrified to know that Waseem fantasized about him that way.

  After an hour or so, they decided to head to the frat party. Waseem wasn’t in the mood to pick someone up. Still, it was good to be back at his old hangout, to have fun while Garon ate his heart out. Next time, it would be easier.

  Brent and Paige had walked to the bar, so Waseem drove them back to campus. Paige changed her mind about the party, and Waseem dropped her off at her dorm. He waited while Brent walked her to the door.

  Brent got back into the car. “Maybe Paige has the right idea. I’ve had enough noise for one evening. Do you want to just…hang out at my place or something?”

  Waseem couldn’t breathe. Hell yeah, he wanted to hang out at Brent’s place. He was sporting a semi just thinking about it.

  “Sure.” Excitement grew in Waseem’s stomach. He warned himself not to think of it as a chance to get with Brent. Still, Waseem wouldn’t give up an opportunity to be alone with the guy.

  Wherever it might lead.

  Chapter 6

  Brent entered his off-campus apartment, dropping his phone and keys on the table by the door, like he always did. He was glad he always kept the place neat, so unexpected company wasn’t a problem.

  “I’m gonna get a beer,” Brent said to Waseem. “You want anything? I’ve got Coke and Mountain Dew—oh, and Paige’s grape soda shit. She likes anything purple, as if that makes any sense.”

  Waseem chuckled. “I don’t need the sugar. Water is fine.”

  Brent led him into the kitchen. It was small but modern and opened into the living room. It wasn’t much, but it beat the hell out of a dorm room.

  Brent opened the stainless steel refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “Want some lemon with your water?”

  “Sure.” Waseem scowled, glancing into the open fridge. “Are you some kind of chef or something?”

  Brent shrugged. He did keep the fridge pretty well stocked. “I like to cook on the weekends instead of getting by on the crap the cafeteria serves.”

  “And you never invited me?”

  Brent liked the idea of that. “You’re welcome any time. Just let me know.” He sliced a lemon on a white plastic cutting board. The citrus scent cut through the beer haze. He got Waseem a bottle of water and poured it into a glass.

  Waseem squeezed a lemon slice into his drink. “I wasn’t expecting anything this fancy.”

  Brent uncapped his beer. “My mom is pretty insistent about food presentation. My dad thinks it’s a total waste, but I think it’s nice.”

  “It is nice.” Waseem smiled at him. Brent got a warm feeling inside, like maybe they were connecting on a deeper level. He didn’t talk about his family much, but with Waseem, he wanted to. About the good stuff, at least.

  They headed back into the living room and sat. “Are you going to ask Glenda out?” Waseem looked kind of miserable when he asked the question. Brent didn’t know why.

  “No, I’m not into her. I’m not sure I’m into anyone.” His stomach tightened. He hadn’t meant to say that, but with Waseem, he didn’t want to hold back.

  “That’s normal, man. You just split up with a woman you dated for five years. It’s okay if you need time to grieve.”

  “I’m not grieving. I wasn’t in love with Karen.” He bit his lip, wanting to pull back the words. But at the same time, he wanted to let out all the confused feelings he’d been struggling with the past few weeks. No one else had really understood, but he thought Waseem might.

  “I loved Karen, but I wasn’t in love. I liked cuddling and kissing, but it never went any further.”

  Waseem’s brows rose and he pulled back, a look of shock on his face. He sat quietly, meeting Brent’s eyes—not judging, just waiting for him to continue.

  Brent explained, “We made a celibacy pledge when we were sixteen. I thought that’s what she wanted, so I never pushed for more. I never wanted more.”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands, realizing it was true. He’d never been sexually attracted to Karen. “I’m a freak.”

  “It’s okay, Brent. You’re not a freak.” Waseem laid his hand on the nape of Brent’s neck, massaging the muscles there. Shivers rushed through him. He wanted to lean into that touch, feel more of Waseem’s body against his. The past few weeks, he’d felt lonelier than he had his whole life.

  “You can talk to me,” Waseem said. “I was a peer counselor at the LGBT center, remember? I’m trained to listen, to help you talk this out.”

  Brent sighed, unable to fight it any more. “Karen thinks maybe I’m ace, but I don’t know. I’ve spent the past three week searching the Internet for an answer. Nothing makes sense.” Brent sat up and looked at Waseem. He lost himself in those shining eyes. “That night at the hotel room, did it seem to you like I was ace?”

  Waseem stilled. He shook his head, his gaze locking with Brent’s.

  “That night…” Brent’s tone softened. “Nothing has ever felt so good. I came so hard, and I could hear you coming with me, and it was perfect.”

  “I felt the same way.” Waseem’s words came out almost as a prayer.

  “Is that attraction?” Brent’s voice caught in his throat. “I’m not sure I even know what attraction feels like.”

  Waseem looked at Brent without even blinking. “It’s like a magnet pulling at you, like you can’t resist being close to the other person. And your heart speeds up and your breathing gets heavy—”

  “Does your stomach hurt?”

  Waseem let out a nervous little laugh. “Sometimes.”

  “Because my stomach really hurts right now. And I feel so far away from you, like you’re on the other side of the world.”

  “I’m not. I’m right here.” He touched Brent’s hand, and electricity sparked between them.

  Brent trembled. All his senses were on alert, as if colors were somehow brighter, sounds more vivid. Waseem filled his whole vision. “I’m so hard right now. Is that a sign of attraction?”

  “It can be.”

  Brent licked his lips. The significance of his realization hit him hard, but he didn’t care anymore. “Maybe I’m not ace. Maybe I’m gay.”

>   Waseem whimpered. His jaw worked, and he squeezed Brent’s hand.

  Brent said in his ear, “Are you attracted to me?”

  “So much.”

  Joy flooded Brent’s system. If he’d had any doubts left, they were gone now. This was what he wanted. It seemed so clear, he couldn’t believe he’d missed it before.

  He ran the back of his hand against Waseem’s cheek. “I love your stubble. I wonder how it would feel if I kissed you.”

  Waseem draw a quick breath, and the sound was so sexy Brent couldn’t help smiling. For the first time in his life, Brent felt the power of sex. Waseem wanted him, and Brent reveled in it.

  He leaned in slowly, watching how Waseem’s eyes flickered, how his pupils dilated. The moment was exquisite, longing flowing between them, and Brent was in no hurry for it to end. He’d never felt anything like this before. It was perfect.

  He brushed his lips lightly against Waseem’s, and perfect took on a new meaning. And then Waseem leaned into him, and perfect expanded to include a whole new set of sensations. Brent’s mouth explored tenderly, discovering the curves of Waseem’s face, the planes of his body. His mouth could never, ever get enough.

  Waseem pressed his hand to Brent’s chest. “Wait.”

  Brent pulled back, bereft, panic rushing through him. “What’s wrong?”

  “For one, you’ve had three beers tonight. For another, unless I misunderstood, you’re a virgin.”

  Brent’s face burned, and his gaze fell to his lap.

  Waseem lifted Brent’s chin gently with his fingers. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. But I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable like this. That’s not who I am, and I care too much about you.”

  “You’re not taking advantage. I want this. I’ve never wanted anything this much.”

  “If that’s true—if this thing between us is real—then it’ll still be there tomorrow. And if it’s not, it’ll be better if we don’t take this further.”

  Brent nodded. He hated that Waseem was right.

  Waseem cupped Brent’s face. “I’m going to say goodnight now, but this isn’t over. Not unless you want it to be.”