by M. E. Parker
Chance laughed. “We are lucky to have you. But I’m not technically your roommate.”
Cam rolled his eyes. “Please stop with all the gushing. Hey, Jordy, we should try out that new Mayan mud mask I got you last week—oh, and we can start watching the new season of Queer Eye,” he said before he disappeared out the door. Jordy and Ben followed, arguing over who was going to have to share a bed with him.
I’m pretty sure our sighs of relief came in unison when I closed the door. I’d never be able to thank Cam and the guys for what they’d done for Chance. He needed it. He needed to know how loved and supported he was. But it had been a long day. He smiled at me and grabbed my hand.
“Come here, monkey,” he said as he pulled me into a tight hug and let out a breath. “I love you.”
I nestled my head against his shoulder. “I love you, too.” I couldn’t help but giggle. “I can’t believe how good it feels to hear you say that—to say it back to you.”
He moved his hand from the back of my neck and ran his fingers through my hair, before he grabbed a handful and forced me to pull my head back to look at him. “It does feel good, doesn’t it?” he said, smiling.
“I’m guessing you’re wiped out. Go shower. I’ll finish up with the mess and meet you in there.”
He leaned down and kissed me. “No, come now.” My stomach fluttered with excitement.
I smiled at him. “I’ll be right there. I just want to wipe everything down and run the vacuum.”
“I’ll help.”
“No, babe, you have your first practice tomorrow. Go. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was stepping into the shower, just as Chance was stepping out. He looked fucking delicious with all the little droplets of water covering his hard body. I want to lick every drop away, I thought, wondering if that was weird.
He slapped my ass as I stepped into the shower. “Hurry up.”
“Five minutes,” I promised.
“Make it three,” he said, reaching for his toothbrush.
When I stepped out of the shower, Chance was standing there, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He had a towel in his hands. I went to grab it from him, but he pulled it away and began to dry my hair, my face, and then my shoulders. As he dried off my chest, I studied his big caramel eyes. They didn’t leave mine as the towel dropped to the floor. The towel was replaced with his hands as he began to massage my chest—his thumbs ran back and forth over my nipples and a spark of electricity ran through my body. I never knew I liked having my nipples touched, but I loved it.
My cock was so hard, I felt the urge to reach for it. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. “What are you doing? Oh my god, Chance,” I whispered.
“You like that, monkey?”
“Umm … fu … umm …” I muttered incoherently.
“You’re so fucking sexy, monkey,” he said as he leaned over to kiss and lick my chest while he played with my nipples. “I want every part of you.”
I grabbed a fist full of his dark hair as he kissed his way down my chest and dropped to his knees. My cock began to leak as he nuzzled the inside of my thigh. I groaned when I felt his warm mouth around me. I looked down at him. His eyes were closed. His towel had slipped away. God, he’s beautiful. I can’t believe he’s mine, I thought as I relished the moment with him.
He pulled away and looked up at me. I watched his chest rise and fall. “Turn around, I want your ass,” he said breathlessly.
I didn’t ask questions. I found myself clutching the shower door as soon as he spread my cheeks apart. It took a second to realize what I was feeling. The rough stubble of his cheeks scratching my ass. His tongue on my hole. That was the first time he’d ever done that to me. I groaned out loud and tried to look over my shoulder. My dick was throbbing so hard, I needed to reach for it, but I was afraid to let go of the shower door. My entire body shook. “Oh god, oh my god—babe, I can’t—I want …” I couldn’t even get out the words. I was wondering if I was going to come just like that, when he moved away and stood up, replacing his tongue with his finger.
His kisses lingered on the back of my neck as he fingered me. “Oh jesus, fuck me,” I whispered as his finger brushed against my prostrate over and over.
He chuckled against my skin. “I thought you’d never ask. I want to be inside you so bad.” His free hand was wrapped around my chest and he began to move his fingers over my nipple. “You want it now?” he teased.
“Jesus, Chance, stop teasing me,” I said breathlessly. He let go of me. I heard him rummaging in the vanity drawer.
“Oh shit. No condoms in here. Hold on.”
“Forget the condom,” I said desperately. I knew it was safe. I’d gone with Cam a couple of weeks ago to be tested, just liked we’d done every six months for the last few years. And Chance had just had his sports physical. It was something I thought we’d have a conversation about first, but I trusted him, and I never wanted to be with anyone else.
“Are you sure?” he asked, slipping two lubed fingers inside me.
I moaned. “Yes. I’m sure. I’m ready. Just fuck me,” I said breathlessly. I hadn’t even finished my sentence by the time I felt him sliding inside me.
“Oh god, oh fuck, you feel so good,” he said as he began to fuck me. It felt incredible. I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t talk. All I could do was hold on to the shower door as he slammed into me over and over at just the right angle. I wanted to last longer, but the feel of his bare cock in my ass as he fucked me was more than I could take. As soon as I felt him pulse inside me, I came. I’d never had an orgasm like that before.
“Oh god, Andy. Oh my god, that felt so good. I love you. I love you so much,” he said as he kissed the back of my neck. I felt the same way, but I was having trouble forming words and catching my breath.
After we finished rinsing off in the shower and brushed our teeth, my body was still shaking and my legs felt unsteady. We fell into bed together. Neither of us bothered with clothes. We laid on our sides facing each other. I couldn’t make myself stop smiling. “We’re getting really good at sex.”
He burst out laughing. “We are, aren’t we? God, I love you.”
I felt like thousands of butterflies had been set free in my stomach. “I love you, too. And I swear I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”
He reached up and touched my cheek. “I swear I’ll never get tired of saying it either.”
“Cheese monster,” I teased.
“I know you are, but what am I?” he joked, reminding me of our childhood. If someone had told me five years ago, that this would be my life, I would never have believed them.
He traced his index finger lightly over my nose and cheeks. I knew he was playing connect the dots with the freckles that I always hated, but he seemed to love them for some reason. “We forgot to turn off the overhead light,” I said, scrunching my nose up at him.
“We can leave it on. I’m too exhausted to move.” He sighed.
“Are you worried about tomorrow?”
He shrugged. “It’ll be fine, monkey.”
I studied his big brown eyes. He was trying to reassure me, but I could tell he was nervous. “I know. But I worry … about your coach … about Daryl White and the other guys who might be like him. I just don’t want you to be caught off guard. I’ve been looking at your Instagram all night. It’s mostly great, but not all of it. For every fifty or so comments, there’s at least one ugly one. I just want you to be ready.”
He reached up and swiped my hair out of my face. “I know. I’ll be okay. I knew there’d be haters. I just wanna get it over with. And honestly, after tonight … I never expected all that support. I just … I don’t know—I know I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay,” he said, before he pressed his lips against my forehead.
I nodded. I wanted to believe him. I would have believed him if he were anyone else. But he wasn’t just anyone. He was Chance Wyrick, star quarterback. I smiled a
t him. “One of us is going to have to get up and turn off the light, or we’ll never be able to fall asleep.”
“Rock-paper-scissors?” Chance said, grinning at me.
A minute later, after three games, I got up and turned off the light. Because that’s what happens—Chance wins, even at rock-paper-scissors. I didn’t care. All I cared about was falling asleep in his arms. So, that’s what I did. But I laid there for a while first, thinking. Thinking about how happy I was. Thinking about how nervous I was for Chance.
I woke up the next morning feeling the same way—head over heels happy and in love, but nervous about Chance’s first spring practice.
He kissed me before he left for practice. I felt this overwhelming need to protect him. I hated that he had to face his coach and team without me. I knew it was crazy to think that way; Chance could take care of himself, but I wanted to be there for him. I didn’t tell him that, though.
Instead, I smiled at him and said, “See you after practice?”
He chuckled and looked at me like I’d asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “Of course, monkey.”
I spent the next three hours in the kitchen. I’d made a chocolate lava cake, two batches of Chance’s favorite oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies, and there was a lasagna in the oven. I kept checking my watch as I paced back and forth, nervously wondering if there was anything else I could make.
Cam yelled at me from the living room. “Jesus Maybury, would you stop pacing? And for the love of god, stop all the cooking. We’re all gonna weigh three hundred pounds.”
I wandered into the living room and fell on the couch. “Shouldn’t he be back by now? How long do you think football practice lasts?”
Cam raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you seriously asking me that question?”
I stared up at the ceiling and let out a breath. “No. I’m just worried.”
Cam rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine, Andy. He’s stronger than you think.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chance
I was nervous as I drove to the stadium. Normally, I would have walked, but honestly, I didn’t want to run into anyone. I could see the worry in Andy’s eyes when I kissed him goodbye. I didn’t want him worrying, so I tried to pretend that I wasn’t. I didn’t have one regret, I just wanted it all over with.
After I parked beside the stadium, I walked with purpose towards Coach Mayes’s office, hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone on the way. I was early, so it was doubtful that anyone from the team would be there. As soon as I reached the hallway, I saw Travis sitting on a bench outside the Coach’s door.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked.
He smiled and shook his head. “You really think I wouldn’t be here? You ready for this?”
I sat down on the bench next to him. He pulled me into a hug and knocked me on the back. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said.
“You got this. I’ll be right here,” Travis replied.
I nodded and stood to knock on the office door. That’s when I heard Coach’s voice bellow through the door. “Larry, jesus I’m not an idiot. I get it. Just give me a chance to talk to him.”
I looked back at Travis. He shrugged. “He’s been on the phone with Pruitt for the last ten minutes.”
Lawrence Pruitt—the Athletic Director for the University. “Holy shit. Are they talking about me?” I whispered.
Travis grinned. “Everyone’s talking about you, dude.”
I shook my head and nervously knocked on the door. Coach opened the door a few seconds later. His face was bright red.
“Wyrick! Jesus, fuck. Get in here—Larry, I’ll call you back.” He raced behind his desk and pushed a button on his phone, presumably hanging up on the Athletic Director. “Ass in the chair,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. “What the hell? Is there something wrong with your phone? I’ve tried to call you a dozen times.”
I cleared my throat. “Sorry, Coach. I haven’t looked at it since yesterday afternoon.”
He rubbed his hand over his red face and shook his head. “You do realize this is something that you should have discussed with me first?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I wasn’t in the habit of talking back to my coach, but he was already pissing me off. “No, sir, I didn’t know that was a requirement. I guess I thought my personal life was my business.”
“Jesus. Pruitt has been up my ass for the last twenty-four hours. You coulda’ given me a heads-up, for christ’s sake!” I watched at least three veins pop from his forehead.
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry. My heart was racing. He wasn’t the only one who was pissed. “Look, Coach, if you want me off the team, just say it. I’m not sorry for telling my truth and I won’t apologize for it.”
“Apologize? Off the team? What the hell are you talking about, Wyrick?” Coach leaned back in his chair and let out a breath. “Jesus, nobody wants you off the team. And nobody expects you to apologize. I’m just sayin’ a little bit of a heads-up would have been nice. I’ve been getting hundreds of calls for the last twenty-four hours … from the press … from Sports fucking Illustrated, and all I can say is ‘no comment’ because I can’t get my own starting quarterback on the goddamn phone.”
I leaned back in my chair. The press? Sports Illustrated? I never thought it would get that big. “Jesus. I never thought—I didn’t think. I’m sorry,” I stammered.
Coach sighed and shook his head as he picked up a piece of paper from his desk and began to read. “Officially, the Gilcrest University Athletic Department fully supports our LGBTQ community. We do not discriminate based on sexual orientation. We are committed to embracing diversity and equality for our athletes and will not tolerate behavior or speech targeted toward any individual that is antithetical to our mission to promote equality and diversity in our athletic programs.” He tossed the paper across his desk and looked up at me.
“What does that mean?” I asked, still feeling defensive.
“Hell if I know, Wyrick. That’s from the AD. Here’s my unofficial position—I don’t give a good goddamn who you love. All I care about is how well you play ball, and you’re one of the best players I’ve ever had the pleasure of coaching. You inspire your teammates to be better players and better people. So, I’ve got your back. If anyone on this team, or anyone from my staff says one word to you about this that you don’t like, you come to me and I’ll personally deal with it. Got it?”
I felt my face turning red. Coach Mayes wasn’t a warm and fuzzy kind of guy. I was moved by his support. “Yes, sir.”
He furrowed his brow. “Now—let’s go over these.” He picked up a stack of papers. “There’s a press conference scheduled here in the press room, tomorrow at noon. The chancellor, athletic director, me, and you. Wear a sport coat and be here thirty minutes ahead of time. That Bob guy that has the Sunday sports show over in Asheville wants us next Sunday. Let’s see …” he said, flipping through the pages. “There are requests for interviews—”
I interrupted him. “Wait, Coach, I don’t want any press conferences or interviews.”
He sighed. “I can’t say that I blame you. But you should tell your story. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It could actually help you with the NFL draft. Their policies are changing. The world is changing on this.”
I shook my head. “I’m not entering the draft, Coach.”
“What? Why the hell not? Times have changed. You can still do this.”
“I know I can, but I don’t want to. It doesn’t have anything to do with me being gay. I just don’t want it. I want to finish my degree. There are better quarterbacks out there than me. I know I’m decent enough for a pick—but we both know there’s a good chance I wouldn’t ever step foot on the field.”
“You don’t know that. There might be better talent out there, but you make up for that with determination and heart. Coaches will see that in you.”
I shook my head and shrugged. “I’ve
made up my mind on this.”
“So that’s it, you’re just gonna quit playing ball? Just like that?”
“I’m not quitting. I have a last season to play here. And then, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about coaching kids—maybe helping kids like me that feel like they can’t play sports and be gay. I don’t know, maybe that’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, Wyrick. You’d make one hell of a coach.”
“So, does that mean I can skip the press conference?”
Coach looked at me. “It seems to me that, if you want to inspire gay kids to play sports—this is your moment.”
I nodded. I didn’t want to go on TV and talk about being gay, but he was right. “I’ll do the press conference, and one interview—you pick. But I’m not doing the Sunday show.”
His lips turned up on the corners. “I’m proud of you, son. Now get the hell outta’ my office. Practice starts in ten.”
I nodded and walked out the door. The fact that Coach hadn’t argued too much about my decision not to enter the draft made me feel like I’d made the right the decision. I wasn’t sure how he’d react to me coming out, but I believed him. I believed he would support me.
Travis stood as soon as he saw me. He smiled as he walked beside me down the long hallway. “How’d it go?”
I glanced over at him. “Surprisingly well. Except that I have to do a press conference tomorrow.”
Travis shrugged. “No biggie. You’ve done them before.”
“About football, Travis, not about being gay.” The more I thought about it, the more terrified I became.
“You got this dawg,” he said, stopping in front of the locker room. “Just be honest. You have nothing to hide anymore. There are no wrong answers.” I nodded. “You coming in?” he asked, nodding towards the locker room.
“Yeah. I need a second. You go ahead.”
“You sure?”
