Unexpected Dreams: Dream Series, Book 4

by Isabelle Peterson

  I climbed out of bed in search of my clothes, which I found neatly folded on an armchair. I smiled at the small gesture. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and decided to stay in Tanner’s borrowed underwear, and went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I wet my hands and soothed some of the bed head that made me look completely ridiculous then headed in search of the aromas that had roused me.

  “There he is,” Tanner said as I emerged from the hallway.

  He flashed me that smile—the one that threatened to stop my heart. I almost tripped when I got a good look at him. His hair was still a little wild from sleep, and his scruff had grown in a bit more than I was used to seeing. His upper body was on full display as he was only wearing the black boxer briefs, which hung low on his hips. His six-pack, or is it an eight-pack, rippled as he reached for the coffee carafe. His obliques had been worked out enough to shape the muscles into a “V” pointing to the goods that I now knew were in the shorts. I wanted to walk right up to him, pull him in close, and kiss the hell out of him.

  He snapped me out of my little fantasy by lifting a mug of hot coffee at me. “Good morning. I would have brought you a cup, but I wasn’t sure how you take it.”

  “Cream and sugar,” I shrugged, looking him over again. He really was a remarkable sight.

  “Same,” he smiled at me and reached for a bowl. Taking off the top, I saw it was sugar, and Tanner reached behind me into the fridge for what I assumed was creamer.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “I’m normally a morning person. Up at the crack of dawn. I don’t think I’ve slept like that since high school,” I said, pouring a couple splashes of creamer into my mug.

  “Yeah, you were pretty dead to the world. I’m surprised you didn’t wake yourself up with your snoring.”

  “I don’t snore,” I said, as I stirred my morning fuel.

  “Yes you do,” he said as he took a sip of orange juice. “How do you take your eggs?”

  “However you are preparing them is fine.”

  “Scrambled it is. How many? Two? Three?”

  “One is plenty.”

  “And whole wheat toast?”

  “Sure. To be honest, I don’t eat much for breakfast.”

  “It’s game day. I eat like a horse!”

  He proceeded to crack six eggs into a bowl and beat them with a fork. Opening the oven door, a cloud of bacon smoke floated out. “Looking good there,” he said and reached over to press the button to start the toast. He turned the heat on the skillet, and dropped a pat of butter into the bottom. Watching his body move was like watching live art. His muscles bunching and flexing across his back and in his arms had other parts of me waking up.

  He turned and caught me staring. His eyes traveled across my face then down my body. I saw him take in the other part that was waking up and his eyes flashed back to mine. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He simply smirked, leaned in and gave me a sweet kiss, then turned to cook the eggs.

  I took a sip of my hot coffee, which was cooler than my body temp, and went about searching for plates and cutlery to set the table.

  We ate breakfast and Tanner filled me in on how his schedule would go for the day. He was going to head back to the hospital and check in on Ashley and Baby Ollie. Then he was going to head to one of the local youth soccer teams that he volunteers with, to be their celebrity referee, then carb load and head to the stadium. With the seven o’clock evening game time, he had to be at the stadium by four. But I wouldn’t be able to get into the stadium until after five. He asked if I wanted to tag along on the jam packed day, but I bowed out needing to go to the hotel, shower, get clean clothes, and I told him I had to do some shopping for a birthday gift for my daughter who was turning twenty.

  “I still can’t get over that, one, you’re in your forties, let alone forty-five. And that, two, you have three adult children.”

  “Well, thank you for that. I can’t believe I’m sitting here having breakfast with a soccer star. So, I think we’re even.”

  Tanner looked at me for a minute, stunned at my comment, then just smiled and shook his head.

  After breakfast, I went back to my hotel, to get fresh clothes, even though I was missing being in Tanner’s boxers, I dressed in a pair of jeans and a black shirt I’d packed to at least be a little with team spirit. The team colors of the Chicago Smoke, as one would guess, were red and black. Tanner invited me along to the hospital, and I did want to go, but I also thought I’d let Tanner have that special time. He would miss so much while living in California and the baby back here in Chicago.

  I headed out into the mid-day Chicago streets. Tourists everywhere walking up and down the Magnificent Mile. I passed store after store wondering what to get my Princess Phoebe. Twenty. Where had time gone? I hoped she really was enjoying New York. I didn’t hear much from her this summer, but her mother assured me that she was doing well, and not to worry. In her email, it did sound like she was doing well, and that she liked NYU better than Ohio.

  I finally decided on a simple leather handbag that was large enough to hold a laptop and/or file folders. It was a soft, brown leather bag with classy buckles. It was one of those pieces that would “look good no matter what the current trend is,” the sales clerk assured me. After a quick call to Elizabeth, I had the piece boxed up and shipped directly to Elizabeth’s for safe keeping. Easier than me trying to pack it up and bring it on two plane rides, first being back to California, the second for when I fly to New York as per her birthday request.

  Talking to Elizabeth for the few minutes weighed heavily on my mind as I walked back to the hotel. She sounded so happy. How had I not known? About us? About me? God, my coming out, if I came out, would probably be the most difficult on her. How would she feel? Maybe I should just shove all this back into the closet I didn’t know existed, and forget any of this ever happened. Even as I said it to myself, I knew that forgetting was impossible. Would being a closeted homosexual be possible? Not with Tanner moving just a few miles from me.

  I had really made a mess of things. However, as messy as things were, I knew that one thing was going right. Tanner.

  CHAPTER 21

  After I enjoyed a late lunch downtown at the famous Billy Goat Tavern, I grabbed a cab and headed to the stadium, which was just outside of Chicago city limits. We pulled up to the modest structure shortly before six, and just like a football game, there were tailgate parties in full swing throughout the stadium’s parking lot. At the Will Call window, I collected my ticket and was given directions to get to the box seat. I made one quick stop at the stadium store and bought a jersey, Number 31, for Aaron’s son, and a marker in case I was lucky enough to get any of the players to sign the shirt. I knew I could get one signature at least.

  I was not the first to arrive to the spacious party box, and I introduced myself simply as a “friend of Tanner’s” to the few people already there. My introduction wasn’t a lie, but I mean, really? I couldn’t really say, “I’m sorta sleeping with Tanner.” Or, “He’s sorta my boyfriend.” Right? Um, no and no. No one questioned anything though. Matt was a college friend of another team member, and Kathleen was Matt’s wife. Darren was the brother of the goalie. Julie was one of the ‘wingman’s’ girlfriends. After that, I lost track.

  The beer was flowing, nice and cold, and everyone was in awesome spirits.

  The game got rolling and was as tough a game as Tanner predicted. The new ‘friends’ I’d made in the box answered questions that I had about a foul or a kick. It was rather cool to see someone you know play a professional sport, where people paid for tickets, and the person you knew got applause when they did something good, or someone got booed when the person you knew got fouled.

  The Austin Avengers were brutal. Nearly half of the team had earned a yellow or red card by halftime. I’d always kinda thought that soccer was a wimpy game with the ‘you-can’t-touch-the-ball-with-your-hands’ rule. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was p
robably because they couldn’t use their hands that they exerted so much more energy. Those guys were all working super hard. By half-time, the game was tied at 1-1. I was exhausted from watching everyone, especially jersey number 31, run up and down the field. He was drenched in sweat, and even from my perch up here, the hairs that stuck to his head were so sexy.

  The game had only fifteen more seconds of play left and it was still 1-1. The rest of my ‘box-mates’ were convinced the game was going to go into penalty kicks, “a cheap way to win or lose,” Matt groaned. Then, quicker than quick, the ball was kicked down field. Tanner set himself up, Number 24 kicked the ball in his direction, and Tanner headed the ball toward the net. The stands gasped and time seemed to slow as the ball sailed through the air brushing the Austin’s goalie’s bright orange gloves and finding the back of the net.

  The crowds, especially the crowd in the party box, went absolutely crazy. Tanner ripped off his jersey and twirled it overhead. God his body was incredible and the crowd totally agreed. I felt a little jealous that he was sharing his incredible washboard abs with everyone else, but I also knew that I was the one who got to touch and worship. Tanner was hoisted onto his team’s shoulders and paraded around. The stadium buzzer sounded and the refs signaled that the game was indeed over.

  While Tanner was being hailed as royalty down on the field, he glanced up at the box and waved. Whether or not he could see me, I was sure that he was waving at me.

  I stayed in the box until Tanner came to find me. It was just after seven, and the cleaning crew was getting ready to toss us revelers out on our asses.

  “Enjoy the game?” Tanner asked stepping into the box. He looked amazing in a light blue denim button-down, and dark denim jeans. Just a handful of us were left, Julie, the goalie’s girlfriend, and a few guys I couldn’t remember their names. The guys and Julie congratulated Tanner as I hung out in the back.

  Tanner came over and hugged me. At first, I was a bit nervous, but then I realized I didn’t really know these people, just like Jeanette, and also, like Jeanette, I probably wouldn’t see them again, so hugged him back.

  “We usually head over to this bar called The Watering Hole up the street after a win. Want to go?” Tanner asked me carefully.

  “Yeah,” I said taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.” The smile that hit his face could have lit the city. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and led the way.

  Ten minutes later, we walked into The Watering Hole, and Tanner led us toward the back where a few team members and fans had gathered and staked a claim on several booths and tables.

  “Tanqueray and tonic?” Tanner asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks,” I said Tanner nodded and turned to a waitress ordering his drink, some locally brewed beer, and my T&T.

  “Williams! Great game man! That last goal! Epic! And that fucker from Austin totally should have gotten a red car for tripping. Yellow card, my ass.”

  “Yeah, well, what are ya gonna do? Brenner, this is Greg Fairchild. Greg, meet Eric Brenner, our team’s biggest fan.” I shook hands with the man decked out in a Chicago Smoke jersey. Tanner turned back to Eric. “You’ve never missed a game, is that right?”

  “Well, just that one,” he said sheepishly.

  “Oh, right,” Tanner laughed. He turned to me to explain, “Brenner got his own ‘red card’ for being too rowdy at a game and had to miss the next one.” The two had a good laugh, then more Smoke team members walked in and Eric went up to those who had just shown up to congratulate them. Tanner and I grabbed a table and were quickly joined by several teammates and fans. We had a good time as I got to know everyone. Their girlfriends or wives joined several of the teammates and I was quick made to feel comfortable.

  I felt a little foolish, but Tanner made me bring the jersey in for team autographs, Tanner was the first one to sign. It absolutely didn’t go unnoticed to him which jersey I’d chosen. I could have chosen a generic shirt, but I just didn’t feel ‘right’ doing that. Before long, the jersey was full of autographs. Aaron’s son would be thrilled.

  After an hour and a couple beers, Tanner went to the men’s room leaving me with Mike and Gerry, two of the teammates. A guy I recognized as the goalie, and Julie, whom I’d already met, joined us. The goalie slipped into Tanner’s seat. “Hi, New Guy,” he said to me, thumping me on the back. “Alex Miller. Haven’t seen you here before. Welcome. How’d you like the game?”

  “Uh, great game. You were amazing. That save just before halftime…very impressive.”

  “Thanks! You’re alright. You can stay.”

  “Alex, this is Greg,” Julie said, making introductions. “He came with Tanner.” I shook hands with Alex and he waved the waitress over.

  “Tanner’s a great guy. Be nice to him. Don’t know where we’d be without him, or how we’re gonna fare next year when he’s in Cali,” Alex lamented. The other teammates muttered their agreement.

  The waitress came to the table smiling her perfect flirty smile and leaned on the side where Alex sat.

  “I’ll have a Corona. And get Greg another drink. He’s staying. I like him,” she nodded at me, apparently already aware of what I was drinking and turned to the Mike and Gerry who nodded to another round of beers.

  Tanner came back to the table, and Alex jumped up out of the seat. “Just making sure your chair didn’t go anywhere, man,” he said smiling, and standing behind Julie.

  Tanner laughed and sat back down. The waitress asked if he’d like another beer, and he nodded. We also ordered burgers and fries, and for the next half hour or so, Tanner, Mike, Gerry, and Alex hashed the game, and compared field notes. It was clear that these four guys were the core of the team, especially as fans stopped by frequently to congratulate them on this play or that, and primarily Tanner, with his tie breaker goal, but also Mike, the other goal scorer of the night.

  Tanner and I headed to the parking lot around midnight, full of burgers and fries.

  “Thanks for coming out with us. The guys like you.”

  “Great group of guys. I’ve never hung out with athletes before. I’m impressed. It was fun. Thanks for asking me along.”

  On the drive to my hotel, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile. I wanted to turn and stare at him…that stubble…those eyes…Instead, I just used the images that had been burned into my mind.

  “I know the feeling,” he said.

  “What.”

  “That you want to look, but you don’t want to look. I’d be looking at you, if I weren’t driving.”

  I wanted to challenge his statement by denying that I wanted to watch him, but I didn’t. Instead, I turned my head and looked him over. The candle tattoo for his father, David, flickered at me from beneath the rolled up shirt sleeve. I watched his muscles flex under the fabric, and his fingers grip the wheel. I checked out his profile with his noble shaped nose, and angular jaw. He was like a work of art. He clenched his jaw, and I could tell he was suppressing a smirk.

  “Something funny?” I asked.

  “Not at all. Feels good. Keep going,” he said, his voice all gravelly.

  I felt my cock stiffen in my pants at his tone. That voice was like music. Instead of continuing my appraisal of the only man who had ever had me thinking in the ways I had been over the past couple of weeks, I faced forward and cleared my throat.

  “So, what do you want to do?” he asked, then licked his lower lip.

  “This is your town. Where do you want to take me?”

  “Would you hate me if I didn’t want to go out? I’ve just spent all day not being with you, and I just wanna be with you for a while. You go back to California tomorrow, well, later today, and I won’t see you until the fifth for the inspection on my new house.”

  We both had our elbows resting on the center console that separated the front bucket seats. I simply took his hand, laced our fingers together, and said, “I’d like that.”

  Twenty minutes later, we were in the Blackstone elevators going up to my floor.
The doors were just about to close when Tanner leaned over and said, “By the way, you look incredible in that shirt.” My cock grew even harder.

  Suddenly, the closing doors opened and a couple joined us in the elevator. I stuffed my hands in my pockets; a juvenile attempt to hide my wood. The woman pressed the button for the seventh floor, while we were headed to the twenty-third. They weren’t speaking English, but the woman was going on and on about something, and she was not happy. The man just shook his head and kept quiet. Once, he glanced at us and rolled his eyes. I almost burst out laughing, but was afraid the lady would hit me, or her ‘date’, with her huge bag. The bell rang and the doors opened for the seventh floor. The man grabbed his girl’s hand and dragged her out, but her mouth didn’t stop. I kinda felt badly for the guy.

  “See, that’s one advantage of being with a man,” Tanner said, shaking his head at the elevator doors and the elevator continued upward. “I don’t know any man who could talk like that.”

  I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

  “Stop doing that,” Tanner growled, and pushed me against the back of the elevator.

  I looked at him while I fought for my breath. “Doing what?” I asked.

  “Laughing.”

  “Why?” I asked. I had a notion…I loved when he laughed.

  “Because we’re not in private yet,” he said, lowering his tone, in a way that made my dick twitch. His lips came down, claiming my mouth while pressing his hips, and rock hard cock, against me.

  The ride wasn’t long enough. I wanted to keep kissing. But the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

  I practically ran out of the elevator, fishing for my wallet and keycard in my pocket. I couldn’t get the door to my suite opened fast enough. As soon as the little green light lit up on the handle, Tanner pushed the door open and me inside, and up against the wall. He stared at me, his eyes taking in my whole face. The hunger and desire on his face and radiating from his body was as clear as a message could be.