by Eden Finley
The door to the gym opens, and a couple of guys step through.
Talon leans back on his heels and drops his hands from me, and while I know it has to be done for obvious reasons, I still hate it anyway. It’s not Talon’s fault, but it sucks.
As soon as the guys see us, their faces light up in recognition, but they don’t say anything. I do feel their constant staring, though. It feels like we’re on display.
Talon and I remain professional after that until I’m exhausted, sweaty, and just want to collapse in a heap on the floor.
“Guess we should call it,” Talon says after what feels like hours. I look at the clock on the wall and realize it was only an hour. Fuck, I really am unfit. I blame Mom’s cooking. I knew that would be my downfall.
Talon leans in and lowers his voice. “We can go upstairs and finish our workout up there.”
“What kind of workout can we do up—”
Talon raises that cocky eyebrow at me.
“Oh.”
He stands and helps me off the floor, and we can’t make it out of the gym fast enough.
Chapter Nineteen
TALON
When I let Miller into my apartment, he looks around the place in confusion. Granted, it has wide windows with a nice view of New York Harbor, but the place is small and not up to my usual standard of living. The furniture which came with the place is dated, and the tiling is covered in mismatched rugs to take the cold out of the floor.
“When you said you’d come to New York, I figured you meant you’d stay in Manhattan and somewhere fancy. This is …”
“This is fine,” I say. “I figured it would be better if we were close by. All we’re going to be doing for the next few months is training, so it makes sense that we’re not far apart.”
“I know we talked about possibly going somewhere to do this, but Mom’s gone all momma bear on me since coming home. Plus, with Vanessa going through a messy breakup, Mom asked if I could stay and help with Gabby occasionally.”
“I’m perfectly fine with it. As long as you’re getting the treatment you need and you’ll be back on that field next season, I’ll go wherever you need me to.”
Miller’s lips turn into a thin line as if he already believes he’s a lost cause. He’s allowed to be skeptical because his entire career is on the line, but I’m not going to give up until the doctors say otherwise, and if he needs me to be that guy for him, then I will be.
“Want a shower?” I ask.
“Like, together?”
I step closer. “Well, I was gonna say to get out of your sweaty clothes, but together works.” The little laugh that escapes me has a nervous quiver to it.
“We don’t need to do anything you’re not—”
I stop him right there. “I thought we went over this that night in your hotel room. No more kid gloves. I know what I’m doing … okay, well I don’t know-know, but I want to learn, and I’m not going to freak out.”
“It’d make me feel better if we went slow.”
“Slow, slow, as in you don’t want to do anything or slow as in …” Wait, what other kinds of slow are there?
Miller closes the distance between us, pressing against me chest to chest. I don’t even care he’s sweating all over me.
“As in, we try other things before the heavier stuff.”
“Other things?”
Miller takes my hand and leads me into my bathroom. Anticipation builds in my stomach in the form of nervous butterflies. He turns the water on, and then turns to me, lifting the hem of my shirt.
Raising my arms, I let Miller undress me, and then it’s his turn.
I like the way Miller stares at me, the way his dark eyes appear almost black when he takes in my already hard cock.
I’m excited for anything he has planned for me although I already know I want him to top me one day. I’ve been thinking about it ever since our FaceTime call where he instructed me to play with my ass.
At home in Chicago, I ordered a dildo online, but I’ve been too chicken to use it yet. I don’t know why. I think, like anything, I want Miller there with me when I use it.
Miller makes everything better.
Even showers.
He gets under the spray first and rinses the sweat from his hair. While he reaches for the shampoo, I duck under the water.
It’s a small shower, so the elbows to the ribcage whenever we move about isn’t fun. Miller hands me the shampoo and we both wash ourselves off fast. When we’re done, we make no move to get out of the shower.
“You were saying something about other things we could do?”
My hand trails down Miller’s back and over the swell of his ass.
“Want me to get on my knees for you?” I whisper.
Miller’s groan sounds like a yes, but when I go to lower myself, he pulls me back up by my arm.
“I have a better idea for that mouth of yours.” He cups my face and brings his lips to mine for a chaste, soft kiss. “I love kissing you.”
“Then keep doing it.” I pull him closer, our wet bodies sliding and pushing against each other.
His mouth descends on mine again, nibbling, sucking, and teasing my bottom lip.
Our hard cocks seek friction, and I can’t get close enough no matter how hard I pull Miller to me.
The way Miller kisses, I understand why he loves my mouth. Kissing him is nothing like the kisses I’ve shared with others before. I’ve had passionate kisses, warm kisses, kisses that made me feel all cozy, and others that kinda made me bored. But Miller’s mouth? It has the power to make my universe crumble. It makes me weak in the knees, and I don’t know whether to relax under the comfort of the familiarity of Miller or pin him against the wall and see how far these sparks can fly.
“Shane,” I whine, my body conflicted.
“Mmm, I love it when you beg too.” Miller’s hand reaches between us, and he angles his left hip bone against me to give just enough of a gap for me to see what he’s doing.
Miller grips both our cocks in one hand, and my breath hitches. He starts off slow, jacking us in long slow pulls.
I rest my head on his shoulder and continue to watch his soapy hand run up and down our hard lengths.
“Why does that look so fucking hot?” I whisper.
“Forget how it looks. How does it feel?”
Precum leaks from my slit. “Good, but it’s not enough. It’s a big, fat, fucking tease.”
Miller chuckles, his shoulder jostling under my forehead. “What if I do this?” He grips us tighter and thrusts into his hand, making his cock drag along mine, and his hand creates more friction.
“Shit,” I hiss.
“I take that as a good sign.”
I nod.
Miller keeps going, trying different speeds and twists of his wrist until I’m a panting mess.
“Let’s see what else you like,” he whispers.
His other hand snakes between us too and massages my balls. I swear I almost come on the spot. I don’t even have the ability to voice my approval.
My hips move too, fucking into Miller’s hand.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I chant.
“You gonna come for me?” Miller asks.
I nod again. Apparently, Miller makes words not work good.
“Want to come in my mouth?”
Just the thought of Miller with his mouth wrapped around my cock has me going over the edge.
“Shiiit.” I convulse as streams of cum land on us.
The warm water washes away the evidence of my orgasm, and I don’t lift my head from Miller’s shoulder until he’s shaking with laughter.
“What?” I grumble.
“Seriously, dude? Couldn’t hold out? I was looking forward to that.”
“I’m totally throwing you a mental middle finger right now.”
“Why only mental?”
“Because you’ve wrung me out. I can barely stand.” But I force myself to pull back. Looking down, I notice Mill
er’s still hard. “Oh. You didn’t … want me to …” My mouth waters at the memory of swallowing him down.
“I have a better idea. Let’s go to the bedroom.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah? What are we gonna do in there?”
“I was thinking of introducing you to the world of frottage.”
“Sounds like a kind of cheese.”
Miller laughs. “It’s like grinding up on each other.”
“So, like, dry humping? Totally haven’t come that way since I was fifteen.”
“Well, you got turned on by Jackson and Noah doing it, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
Flashes of Noah writhing under Jackson’s big body has my dick twitching like it wants to go again but is not quite ready to.
“You wanna try it?” Miller asks, taunting me because I’m sure he can sense the flare of heat in my gut.
“Fuck, yes.”
Miller is so fucking beautiful when he comes. I’ve seen it before, I’ve heard it, but when it’s me making him do it? It’s the best thing in the entire world.
Waking up next to him is even better.
“Come on, lazy-ass. Time to get up.” I swat his ass.
His naked and deliciously round, firm, and surprisingly non-hairy ass.
I figured a guy who’s built on pure testosterone like Miller would have hair everywhere, but he’s smoother than a woman’s legs on a third date.
“Fuck off,” he mumbles.
“Hmm, it totally sounded like you just told me to fuck off, but that can’t be right. Not after the orgasms last night.”
“Exactly,” Miller complains. “You kept me up half the night, and now I’m fucking tired.”
“A brisk walk will wake you up.”
“In the snow? I’ll probably slip on black ice and injure my leg again. Or worse, the other one.”
“Treadmill. Gym. Your PT said you should be walking every day, just not fast.”
Miller’s phone beeps on the bedside table, and he reaches for it with that long and muscular arm. Seriously, how had I never noticed how sexy a guy’s biceps are?
It’s like I’ve been living my entire adult life with tunnel vision. These thoughts had to be simmering under the surface, right?
Or is it like one of those crazy-ass religious cults where I’ve seen the light! I’ll have to go to sermons and raise my hand to the gods of dicks, abs, and biceps.
Boom, there’s my cult name.
“Oh no. Looks like we’ll have to skip the walk,” Miller says. “Mom wants me home for breakfast.”
“Show me.”
Miller hands me his phone, and there is a text from his mom.
“This says I’m invited, so we’ll go have breakfast with your family, and then training. Easy.”
“I hate you again,” Miller grumbles.
“We established yesterday you far from hate me.”
“Yes, but I distrust my taste in men, because clearly, you’re evil. Am I at least allowed coffee today?”
“Learn how to drink it black, and you can have as much coffee as you want. Creamer is not conducive to your diet.”
“The NFL is so lucky to have you,” Miller says, but I don’t buy it.
“Why do I feel like there’s an insult coming?”
He stretches and slowly gets out of bed. “All I’m saying is, if you weren’t with the NFL, you’d probably be some personal trainer who makes all his clients cry.”
I light up and beam with pride. “You think so?”
“Dude, that wasn’t a compliment.”
“I’m taking it as one. Who doesn’t like making people cry?”
“Normal people?” Miller shrieks. Then he realizes I’m fucking with him. He hastily dresses himself while grumbling, “Yep. Definitely hate you.”
“Again, not what you said last night.”
“That’s because your dick was distracting me.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that. ADDD. It’s like ADHD but it’s attention deficit dick-distraction disorder.”
I’m still laughing at my lame-ass joke when Miller says, “I’m thinking about telling my mom.”
“About your dick disorder?”
“Okay, we’re so not calling it that, and no. I mean … about us.”
I can’t stop the smile from taking over my face.
“Would you be okay with that? I know we need to keep it a secret from the press, but I figured … I can tell her just about me if you don’t want anyone to know we’re together or whatever.”
I want to tell him to shout it to the world, but he’s right. We can’t tell the press. I want this with Miller, and for the first time in my life, I want something real, but what does a future look like with three out players on the same NFL team? What will Miller and I coming out do to Jackson’s career? There’re too many variables right now to put that kind of pressure on something so new.
It’s not that new, my mind reminds me. We’ve been fooling around for months—just not in person. And we’ve been dancing around each other for years, but I just never knew it.
“Or I could not do it at all,” Miller says when I realize I haven’t responded.
“No, no, you should. I want you to tell your mom. And your sister, if you want. I was thinking that it’s a shame we can’t tell the press or the team or anyone else.”
“You want to do that?” Miller sounds surprised.
I approach him and bring him close to me. “If there wasn’t a chance of serious repercussions, I’d so want to do that.” Leaning in, I kiss his mouth softly. I never told him about the shit Henderson was saying in the locker room, but now’s not the time to delve into it. “Let’s not think about that right now. Today should be a happy day.”
Miller smiles, but it falls just as fast. “Unless Mom flips.”
“Do you think she will?”
“Well, no. I didn’t think so, but now that I realize I’m definitely gonna tell her, I’m scared she will.”
“That’s probably normal, right? Otherwise no one would struggle with coming out.”
Miller looks like he’s going to vomit … or maybe faint.
I run my hands up and down his arms. “Whatever the reaction, we’ll deal with it together, okay?”
He kisses me this time, and it’s not chaste or soft. “Promise?”
“Of course.”
Chapter Twenty
MILLER
Talon’s right. It’s probably normal to sweat this much when you’re about to come out to your family. I bet he didn’t even flinch coming out to his brother, though.
When we arrive, my sister approaches and greets Talon with a hug. “Good to see you again, Marcus.”
“Eww, you real-named me. That’s gross.”
Vanessa laughs. “Still see you’re at about the same level of maturity as you were in college.”
“Damn straight. Only, you know, according to your daughter, I’m a ball hog.”
“Gotta let go of that ball faster, dude.”
Talon looks at me. “Your sister is brutal.”
“Always has been. That hasn’t changed,” I say.
“Uncle Shane!” Gabby comes running out from her room and immediately jumps into my arms. “Where’d you sleep?”
Great. Just great. Way to ease me into this, kid.
I carry her into the dining room and put her down in her seat, hoping that ignoring her question will make her curiosity go away. “Here, eat a bagel.” I spread the cream cheese for her and put it on her plate.
“Where did you sleep, big brother?” Vanessa asks, and I glare at her. She stares at me with a smug expression I can only guess came from our sperm donor of a father. Dude only stuck around long enough to get Mom pregnant twice before he took off. My sister and I inherited our olive skin and dark hair and eyes from him, but everything else we get from Mom. Right down to our stubbornness.
As we all take our seats, it occurs to me I don’t even know how to bring the whole thing up.
Talo
n digs in and piles his plate high with bacon, eggs, and all the good stuff, while he eyes me when I go for some bacon.
“The more you eat, the farther you have to walk,” he sings.
I slump and put the bacon back.
“Are you being hard on my boy?” Mom asks.
Talon practically chokes.
“He’s trying to get me ready for next season,” I say. “Although I think the choking serves him right for being such a hard-ass.”
Talon turns to my mom. “It’s all your fault, you know. If I was being fed like this daily, it’d be hard for me to say no too.”
My family keeps up small talk with Talon while I tune them out. There’s no real correct way to bring this up, is there? It’s one of those things you just have to say.
“I’m bi,” I blurt.
Talon coughs again, but I think he’s choking on his laughter this time instead of food. “Way to bury the lede, man.”
“Yeah, probably should’ve started with something softer,” I say.
Mom and Vanessa stare at me, and Gabby glances around the whole table with a cute little scrunch in her forehead.
“What’s a bi?” Gabby asks.
“Umm …” I look at Vanessa for permission to explain it, but Vanessa does it for me.
“It means Uncle Shane likes both girls and boys.”
“I like girls and boys!”
“Good for you. It should all be about equality,” Vanessa says. “But, uh, how about you go play in your room while Mommy and Grandma talk to Uncle Shane.”
Talon tenses beside me, ready to defend me I guess, because sending Gabby away can’t be a good thing.
“Okay.” Gabby runs off like an obedient little girl. Of course, the one time I don’t want her to listen, she does.
A sheen of sweat breaks out on my forehead. “So, uh, yeah. I’m bi, and Talon and I are … well, you know …”
“I knew it!” Vanessa says.
“Uh, say what now?” Talon asks. “Knew what? This is new. Like really new.”
“Please, all those rumors in college.”
“What rumors?” Mom asks.
