Medley

by Layla Reyne

  Under their combined weight, Jacob sank to the bed, taking Bas with him. He ignored the mess and enjoyed the warm weight of Bas half on top of him, lulling him to sleep with soothing passes of his hand over his back. “That’s it, Pup. I’ve got you.”

  He turned his head toward Bas and smiled unseeing, losing the battle with his eyelids. “Jacob,” he said. “I like when you call me Jacob.”

  Bas’s hand swept from his shoulder, down his back, and over his ass. Jacob tried to give chase, to lift his hips after it, but he was so tired. Had been for days. But he was safe now, here with Bas; he could rest.

  Bas’s lips brushed over his. “Sleep, Jacob.”

  “Only if you stay,” he mumbled half to the pillow, half to Bas.

  He was asleep by the time Bas answered.

  Jacob shifted on the bed and winced, the sheets sticking to his chest and stomach, an uncomfortable reminder of the previous night’s pleasant activities. And a reminder he needed to shave soon, now that the meet was finally upon them. He smiled into his pillow, eager for the day ahead, for a change. Until a blast of cold air hit his back and his groggy mind woke the rest of the way up, realizing what—who—was missing. No soothing hand coasting over his back, no warm body blanketing him, no blond dreadlocks sweeping his shoulders.

  Eyes still closed, he rolled off his stomach and peeled away the sheets, hoping against hope, and the realities of a twin bed, that maybe Bas was still in it with him. His bare back hit cool plaster and hope faded.

  No Bas.

  Just Jacob.

  Cold and alone.

  This was why he never asked for what he wanted, never put himself first. The opposite invariably resulted.

  He yanked the sheet up over his head, not wanting to face the cold, disappointing morning. Bas was gone or asleep in the other bed, having left Jacob’s. Either option shattered the fantasy cocoon he’d inhabited last night. He’d been spiraling, on his way to hitting rock bottom, but Bas had caught him, wrapped him up safe and sound, and given him what he’d asked for.

  Well, most of it.

  Not the only way to fuck, Bas had said, and proved it. Jacob had fallen asleep satisfied, disappointment banished. But in the lonely light of morning, he was second-guessing everything. Had Bas even wanted to fuck him? Jacob had thought so, by the way Bas had hungrily kissed him, how he’d taken care of him, by the groan and shudder of Bas’s body behind him when they’d come.

  But was all that just a favor for Jacob? Was Jacob so terrible in bed that Bas had fled? Or had it really meant nothing to Bas? Just some handjobs, simulated fucking, and a little ass play? Had Bas ever intended to stay? Realizing he’d fallen asleep before hearing Bas’s answer, never hearing a yes, sent Jacob spiraling again.

  His blaring phone alarm greeted him at the bottom.

  No curses or groans from across the room.

  Bas was definitely gone, then.

  Jacob opened his eyes, verifying what the rest of his senses had told him. Adding insult to injury, Bas’s bags were packed and on his bed. He’d done all that while Jacob slept, then left. A third morning waking up alone.

  Scooting off the end of the bed, Jacob snagged his pants, dug out his phone, and silenced the alarm. Device in hand, he ignored the low-battery warning and scrolled through his other notifications—no messages from Bas. He considered texting him, then decided against it, not wanting to confirm his failure just yet.

  He plugged the phone into the wall charger, grabbed his undergarments, and carried them into the bathroom. He startled at his reflection in the mirror. His body didn’t look like it’d been used by someone who didn’t care. With a careful hand, he tested the tenderness of the kiss bruises on his neck, compared his fingers to the marks left by longer ones on his hips, and stared at the bruises on the backs of his thighs.

  Thank God they were in suits today, and thank God for jammers, because he looked like he’d been fucked by someone who’d wanted him badly. Hope flickered as he washed away the other evidence of last night’s desire on his thighs and stomach. Maybe Bas had gone for a run, or downstairs to the lounge to sketch, or out to grab a couple of coffees for them. Maybe the worst case Jacob’s mind had jumped to wasn’t the case at all.

  He hurried through the rest of his shower, toweled off, and tugged on his boxers and undershirt. When he stepped back into the room, Bas was there, tucking his tablet into his messenger bag. But unlike yesterday, when Bas had seemed withdrawn and surly, today he was smiling wide. In his light gray suit, pristine white shirt, and blue paisley tie, eyes glowing to match and dreads tied neatly back, he looked stunning.

  Jacob crossed to stand behind him. “Hi.”

  Bas glanced over his shoulder, and his smile faltered. “Hi.”

  “You left early,” Jacob said, ignoring the creeping tendrils of doubt trying to snuff out his wavering hope. “I didn’t hear you shower.”

  Bas zipped up his bag. “Alex and Dane’s room.”

  Stepping closer, Jacob considered running his hands over Bas’s shoulders and down his arms, but the stiff set of the other man’s spine warned against it. Jacob’s hands hung suspended in midair, before he lowered them. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  Bas slipped out from in front of him, the split of his suit coat whispering over Jacob’s fingertips. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  As Bas moved around his bed, checking closets and drawers for stray items, Jacob retreated to his side of the room and dressed. Doubt no longer crept; it stomped with each fluttering beat of Jacob’s sinking heart. “How are they this morning?” he asked, struggling to make conversation.

  “Alex and Dane? Good. Mo called.” Dane’s mentor, and a close friend of Alex and Bas, Mo had made the team but not the trip, sidelined by an injury back in Colorado Springs. “His wife had the twins.”

  That explained Bas’s earlier smile. “Why didn’t you say so? Or come wake me so I could have been there with you?”

  “You hardly knew Mo.”

  Jacob staggered where he stood, shirt half buttoned, tie hanging loose around his neck. “I did know Mo. He’s a teammate.” Such a momentous occasion in any teammate’s life meant something to all of them. Or did Bas not think Jacob a true member of the team? He was just the new guy, one who performed erratically at best. He could be replaced. Alex and Dane had a history, Alex and Bas were best friends. They’d closed ranks around their family, leaving him on the outside, alone.

  He grabbed his father’s dog tags and sank onto the end of his bed, staring down as he tumbled the metal plates. “I would have liked to have been there.”

  Bas’s big hand covered his, stilling the motion, and when Jacob looked up, Bas was kneeling in front of him, face and voice no longer cold, but not inviting either. “You needed the sleep, Pup.”

  “I needed—”

  Bas’s fingers tightened. “One night, that’s what you said you needed.”

  Yes, that was what he’d said, all he’d asked for, and by the flash of something across Bas’s eyes—a plea almost—one night was all Bas could give. Jacob had known that in his head, but his heart . . . He was fourteen all over again, asking for more than he could or should. Jacob glanced away, before he asked Bas to stay and sent him packing for good.

  “Now, we need to work.” Standing, Bas grabbed his bags and headed for the door. “Bus leaves in ten. Alex wants to talk media strategy, and Dane has some pointers. We’ll save you a seat.”

  Jacob tried to convince himself it was all he needed. Bas was still talking to him, Alex still considered him a teammate, and Dane thought enough of him to give him pointers. But as the dog tags slipped from his grasp and hit the floor, the sound as hollow as he felt, Jacob knew he needed more.

  Ultramodern in design, with sharp angles, big windows, and gleaming exterior walls, Madrid’s Olympic Village was bright. Every surface reflected the afternoon sun, blinding Bas—supremely unhelpful as he, Alex, Nat, and Eva herded their teams along the crowded promenade toward reside
nt check-in. Supremely unhelpful too were the many interruptions along the way. While Bas enjoyed seeing some of the returning athletes, friends he’d stayed in touch with on social media and at smaller meets, he did not relish the leering ones who approached with proposition after proposition. He’d made a name for himself at the last Olympics, not a good one, and the reminders of his mistakes were everywhere. By some grace of the deity, the biggest one was not here yet, but Jacob, following behind Bas, had a front-row seat to the rest.

  The pup had started to hang back after the tenth or so hookup offer, keeping himself apart from Bas and the team. Wonder shone in his big green eyes, but so did hurt and uncertainty. After the incident at the heuriger, rumors had swirled about Jacob’s sexuality and whether he’d intentionally kept the truth from Leah. Given the way she’d reacted, would anyone blame him if he had? Which Bas doubted, regardless. Jacob had more likely kept his bisexuality quiet to avoid creating drama. The fact that it’d backfired, and he was now the center of attention, was no doubt eating him alive.

  That’s not what the team needs, he’d said, together with a litany of apologies, as they’d discussed media strategy with Alex and Dane on the way here.

  Last night, Bas had meant to give Jacob what he’d needed, putting Leah, the team, and all of it aside for one night and writing a different page in the pup’s story, one where Jacob wasn’t always the giver. But Bas had taken too much for himself instead. So this morning he’d put some distance between them. Not as much as after Martin’s—he’d still be there for Jacob as a mentor—but Bas wouldn’t let it go further. Because if he allowed himself more, he’d take and take, and then when nothing was left, he’d leave, like he’d done before, like he was bound to do again. Jacob didn’t deserve or need that.

  “I still can’t believe Jacob’s a player,” Leah said, close behind Bas, jarring him out of his thoughts. “I didn’t think he was like that.”

  Bas wanted to turn and rail, the misconceptions in Leah’s statement, her completely wrong reading of Jacob, making his blood boil. Jacob was right. They shouldn’t have to explain any of this to her, to anyone, but they needed to address this sooner rather than later for the sake of the team. And better him than Jacob.

  Channeling Alex’s calm, he slowed his stride and waited for the group of women to catch up.

  “Hey, Leah,” he said. “You got a minute?”

  She tried to skirt around him. “We’re late for check-in.”

  He blocked her path, hands up. He didn’t want to pressure, but clearly whatever Alex had said to her last night hadn’t penetrated. “It’ll just take a minute,” he said.

  “Go on, Leah,” Natalie said, joining them. “Hear Bas out.”

  Leah looked back and forth between them, ultimately listening to her captain. “Sure, okay.”

  Bas led Leah off the walkway, out of the sea of slow-moving people and onto the grass near one of the man-made ponds. “Last week in Vienna,” he started, “you and Jacob were hanging out a lot.”

  “Yeah, so.” Leah carded her fingers through her short brown hair.

  “What’d you like about hanging out with him?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Humor me.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “He’s a really good swimmer, I guess.”

  Bas pressed. “That much time together, it must have been about more than race tips.”

  “We like a lot of the same stuff.” She glanced at him through her lashes, reluctant at first, then growing more animated as she spoke. “TV shows, books, sports. He’s a total dork, but it’s cute. And he makes me laugh. He’s real, you know?”

  “And he’s cute.” Her eyes grew round, and Bas grinned, cutting through more of the tension. “Hey, just calling it like I see it.”

  “Yeah, he is,” she admitted with her own small smile.

  “And does any of that stuff you like about Jacob change because he’s bisexual?” He waited for the realization to sink in, Leah’s cheeks heating when it did. “Who Jacob loves doesn’t change any of that. It’s just another part of who he is, and that’s the same adorkable Jacob you hung out with all last week.”

  Leah lowered her chin, suddenly interested in her shoes.

  “And being bisexual doesn’t make him a player. To tell the truth, I don’t think Jacob could pull off player if he tried.”

  “I was surprised, is all.”

  “Don’t make assumptions and you’re less likely to be surprised.” It was a common mistake, assuming a hetero default for everyone. Bas had gotten used to it; didn’t make it any less annoying.

  “I’ve never known anyone who was bi before.”

  “That you know of.”

  She lifted her chin, lips tipping up in a smile again. “Hashtag facepalm.”

  Bas could see why Jacob liked her—their senses of humor aligned. “You have any questions, ask me. Or Jacob. Give him a chance, okay? Jacob likes you, and you’re pretty cool about most things; be cool about this too.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He jutted his chin toward Jacob, who was walking up ahead with Terrence. “Tell him that.”

  She promised to do so, apologized again, and rushed off to join Nat and the rest of the women’s team near the front of the check-in line. He turned to rejoin the guys and nearly ran into Sean and Kevin, the team gossips, eavesdropping.

  Bas rolled his eyes. “You two overheard that?”

  “We didn’t mean to,” Sean lied.

  “We were just talking about video games,” Kevin added.

  “And listening.” He waved a finger between them. “You Golden Girls forget I know your routine.” They didn’t deny it or the moniker. “Either of you got issues with Jacob we need to address?” He had to ask, given Kevin’s somewhat obtuse reaction to Dane’s coming out. He’d been cool since, but, for what Bas was contemplating, Kevin needed to be cool with Jacob too.

  “Nah, man,” Sean answered. “Pup’s a good kid.”

  “No problem here,” Kevin echoed.

  “Good, he’s the third in your triple.” Bas had seen the room assignments on Alex’s desk this morning. They technically hadn’t filled the third spot—didn’t need to—but Bas was making an executive decision.

  Kevin didn’t seem to like it. “Shit, for real?”

  “I thought you didn’t have a problem with Jacob.”

  “I don’t. It’s the crowded triple I got a problem with.” He waggled his brows. “All so you can have a shag pad to yourself.”

  Bas remained silent, letting him believe that was the reason.

  Sean backed his play. “We can do our man a solid.” He shoved Kevin’s shoulder, grin full of mischief. “And now ours will be the party room.”

  Then again, maybe re-rooming Jacob with them wasn’t the smartest idea if Sean and Kevin were going to be off the hook. From what Bas could remember, they’d been relatively well behaved last time around. That said, he hadn’t been paying close attention, distracted as he was.

  They split before Bas could change his mind, corralling Jacob from Terrence and sliding their arms over his shoulders. Maybe not a bad idea, except for the fact they almost took Jacob down with their enthusiasm. Or did Jacob’s stumble, as he glanced back over his shoulder at Bas, have more to do with the flash of betrayal in his eyes and the deflated slump of his shoulders?

  Coward that he was, Bas gave an encouraging nod that he didn’t feel and looked away, searching for Alex. He spotted Dane first, his bright red mop above the rest, then Alex’s dark one beside him. Bas hustled their direction and shoved in line next to them.

  “What’s up?” Alex said.

  “Put Jacob in the triple with Sean and Kevin.”

  Alex raised a brow.

  “After that shit with Leah, the rest of the team needs to see he’s not just hanging out with the queer guys.”

  “And you?” Dane said. The poster boy was smarter than he looked.

  Bas ignored him and the implication. “Put s
omeone else with me if you need to.”

  “We’re square,” Alex said, but not without a serious side-eye. “Something more to that room reassignment?”

  “Just doing what’s best for the team,” Bas answered, hoping like hell Alex bought it. And hoping like hell this was the best thing for Jacob too.

  “Like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

  Coach was right about the Olympic Opening Ceremony.

  Jacob thought he’d seen pomp and circumstance before—the lengths Texans would go for football games were legendary—but nothing he’d seen back home compared to this.

  Marching into Olympic Stadium with the rest of Team USA, Jacob made no attempt to hide his wonder. He struggled with where to look; he wanted to see it all, but there was so much. Sensory overload wasn’t a strong enough descriptor for the assault of sights and sounds competing for his attention. The roof overhang with its undulating spoke structure that seemed to move with the wavelike projections of the Olympic colors. The stands, three levels high, jam-packed with spectators and press. The lighted inner-oval stage overflowing with dancers and performers. And all around Jacob on the track, athletes from other countries dressed in their teams’ distinctive outfits. Outfits was likewise not the right word, but neither was costumes. Each country’s culture was unique and shone through in their athletes’ attire. Jacob wanted to run up to each new team he passed and ask why that hat, or why that pattern, so much of it new and different to him.

  “Pup!” Alex shouted. He was waving his arms, flagging Jacob forward. “Get up here.”

  Shuffling through the crowd, Jacob noticed the rest of his teammates, even the Olympic vets, were likewise awestruck, making him feel less like a noob. When he reached Alex, and Bas by his side, Jacob kept his smile in place, forcing himself not to dwell on the unexpected room reassignment earlier that afternoon. Not here, not now. He would enjoy this moment and worry about the other later.