by Megan Slayer
“You can’t fix gay.”
“No, you can’t, because we’re not broken.” He relaxed a bit. He’d never talked to anyone about his past, especially not the crap with his father. Then again, Blake would’ve had to have cared about Tyler’s past and Blake only cared about himself. Tyler loosened his grasp on his bag. “It’s funny. I can play the quarterback position and throw pretty well, but I like kicking better. I played QB throughout middle school and my freshman year of high school. But when I made the junior varsity squad, the school didn’t have anyone who could make point after kicks. Dad said I wouldn’t be able to kick a thirty-five-yard field goal, so I did. I proved him wrong in half an hour. Coach saw me and from then on, I’ve been a kicker or a punter. I can’t complain. Football got me scholarship money to attend college and keeping my grades up ensures I’ll keep the grant money coming, too.”
He wasn’t about to mention the years of therapy he’d had. Growing up with an abusive parent had fucked with his head. Down deep in his soul, he knew his past was the reason he’d stayed with Blake and couldn’t get away from the bad situation. But he had to like himself before he could start growing and getting away from Blake. Did he like the man he’d become? Kind of.
Allan clapped Tyler on the thigh, redirecting Tyler’s attention. “So you’re smart and athletic. You’re a lethal combination.” Allan nodded. “It’s good, though, to be intelligent and to have a degree. That way, if your sports career falls through, you’ve got a second plan of attack. If I get hurt and can’t come back, I’m fucked.”
“How? Aren’t you getting a degree?” Having a diploma and a career once you finish college is the point, right? “Or did I miss something?” Although they’d barely talked before that night, Tyler liked the easy way conversation flowed between them. He’d been able to open up to Allan—scary, since no one else cared about him enough to want to talk. Sure, there were plenty of things he wasn’t going to admit just yet, but he’d made a breakthrough. Wouldn’t his therapist be proud?
“I highly doubt I’ll get hired on at a high school or middle school and nab a coaching job with my background. I’m all tats and attitude.” Allan laughed and the throaty sound echoed in the car. “Plus, I’m awful with grammar. I only passed the language portion of the teaching tests by the skin of my teeth.”
Tyler shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve been smart about the tattoos. They show when you’re wearing a short sleeve shirt, but not when you’ve got longer sleeves on and I doubt you’re all attitude. I’ve seen you off field. You’re one of the nicer guys. You seem to treat everyone fair.”
“You could be right. I don’t see the point of treating the underclassmen like shit.” Allan put his hand in the air. “Not like Blake and Devan do. We’re a team and we need to be able to trust each other. So yeah, I’m a decent guy, but I don’t have the grades I’m sure you do.”
“That’s application and practice—just like with football. If you go about your studies like you would the next game, you’ll see it’s not that hard to pass your classes with flying colors.” Tyler sagged in his seat. He sounded like such a dork. No wonder Blake insulted him so much. He noticed the landscape and pointed to the buildings alongside the car. “Dude, this is not Lorne’s. This is front campus.”
“True.” Allan turned onto the side street and navigated the car into the parking lot. He came to a stop in front of the ceramics building. A thick plume of smoke swirled out of the end of an igloo-like structure. The last time Tyler had been past the building, he hadn’t remembered the igloo thing or the smoke.
What was going on? They weren’t at the bar and there weren’t many people on front campus on a Saturday night. He glanced down at the door for the handle in case he needed to make a quick escape.
“What are you going to do? Burn me alive? Leave me for dead up here?” Tyler hated to admit he was scared. He’d felt so comfortable with Allan, but now? He wasn’t so sure. Allan wouldn’t want to get into trouble. If he was serious about sticking with football and making the sport his career then he’d have to keep his nose clean. Doing something crazy to Tyler would keep him off the team. Besides, Tyler trusted his teammates—save for Blake and Devan—and Allan was his teammate. He grasped the handle but hesitated.
“Why would I want to burn you alive?” Allan switched off the engine and cut the power to the headlights. “I owe my friend Kimberly an hour of service at the wood kiln. She tends the thing and can’t retrieve the wood, too, so I volunteered to help. I thought you and I could give her a hand and talk a while.”
“Oh. Is this a date or something?”
“Kind of. If you don’t want to be seen in public with me, I understand, but I’d love for you to hang around.”
A date. In an odd way, Tyler rather liked Allan’s idea for spending time together. Interesting but non-threatening. Still, he was supposed to be at the party… Christ. What was he doing worrying about Blake and the asshole’s reaction? Of all the things he could’ve been doing, giving Blake one more minute of his time should’ve been at the bottom.
“Kimberly will be grateful for the extra set of hands.” Allan opened his door then left the vehicle.
Tyler glanced down at his outfit. He wasn’t exactly dressed for toting logs to a kiln. Still, he was spending time with a decent guy and doing something fun—or relatively fun. No one would be punching him, so that was a plus.
Allan strolled around the hood of the car then opened the door for Tyler. “The wood kiln is freaking awesome to see. You’ll be amazed.”
“If you say so, then I’ll trust you.” Tyler left the car and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Blake would be so pissed. Hell, he was probably already mad and expected Tyler to be right behind him, soaking up everything he said and ready to do whatever Blake commanded. Once Blake noticed Tyler wasn’t at the party, he’d go ballistic. But what would Allan say? Was Allan in on the humiliation? Moving on Blake’s orders? Tyler’s stomach roiled. He needed to go and never look back—from Blake and Allan.
He paused on the sidewalk. “Are you in on this? Are you and Blake doing this…treating me like a human being because it’s some sort of joke? Be honest with me. I can take it. I don’t want to be the butt of a joke again, but I can handle it.”
“Whoa.” Allan grabbed Tyler before they crossed the empty street to the ceramics building. “You’ve got wildness in your eyes and I have no idea where what you just said came from.” He tugged Tyler across the road to the small hill leading up to the building. At the bottom of the stairs, Allan snagged Tyler in his arms. “What are you talking about? A joke? How I feel about you and the reason I asked you to come along was no joke.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Christ. He needed to escape but he also wanted to kiss Allan. Fuck, he was messed up.
Allan’s lips parted and he smoothed his hand over Tyler’s chest. The touch, tender and sweet, seared Tyler to the core. Allan tilted his head and scooted closer to Tyler. “I don’t understand what all that jerk did to you, but I can assure you I’m not Blake. Don’t want to be. I’m also not playing around. I asked you to come along with me on a whim, but it was the best chance I’ve ever taken. It’s like managing to get around every defender and finding a wide-open end zone. I’m scoring and I love it.”
“You make me sound so easy.” Tyler bit back a groan. He’d begun to hate himself for feeling so indebted to Blake. He seemed so weak and bulldozed. Damn it. “Blake will be mad. What did he tell you? I’m easy?” The bastard probably had. He liked to brag about what he could do and with whom.
“Let him get upset.” Allan’s eyes glittered in the moonlight. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about him.”
“You don’t understand.” But then neither did Tyler. Part of him worried about Blake’s reaction and the subsequent verbal assault when Blake caught up to him. Not showing up at the party would be seen as a violation against Blake. Another part of Tyler wanted to be true to himself and tell Blake to get fucked. Blake didn
’t own him.
“You’re right. I don’t get what’s going on. Enlighten me, Ty.” Allan inched closer until his breath feathered over Tyler’s cheeks. “Tell me why you feel you have to defend Blake and why you can’t seem to stand up for yourself.”
“I can’t.” He wanted to explain everything to Allan and unburden himself the rest of the way. But how was he supposed to explain what went on? Be honest? I’m in debt up to my eyeballs with Blake because he found out I was a virgin when I started college and was abused by my father. He keeps using that information to get me to do things because at one time I thought he liked me. He sounded lame and pitiful. Allan wouldn’t want to hook up with a fucked-up guy like Tyler.
“I solemnly swear not to embarrass or hurt you. I’ve wanted to talk to you since summer training began but I was too shy to go for it. I see my opening and I’m taking it. Come help me with the kiln.” Allan grinned and didn’t give Tyler the chance to change his mind. “We need to go. Kimberly’s waiting and I don’t feel like getting yelled at for being late.”
“Sure.” Kimberly… Tyler couldn’t remember the name of the cheerleader, but that fact didn’t matter. The girl at the kiln was probably Allan’s girlfriend. Sure, he’d said they were on a date, but Allan didn’t strike him as gay. “You’re close with her?” he asked. “Like really close?”
“To a degree.” Allan swatted Tyler’s ass as they ascended the small staircase. “We went to school together. Her folks know mine. They were friends and we were expected to couple up.”
“Ah.” Like he’d thought—the good-looking ones were never gay. So much for his chances with Allan. Who did he have otherwise? Blake. Wonderful.
Allan grabbed Tyler’s hand and fell into step beside him. Holding hands? But…what about the girlfriend? Still, Tyler refused to deny the tingle growing in his belly. This was so messed up. He’d fallen in lust with a man who was only half-interested.
“I keep an eye on Kimberly and she keeps me sane,” Allan said. He paused halfway to the building and under a bright security light. “I hadn’t come out yet when I started college. Kimberly knew. She played along with me to my parents until I understood what I wanted. She was my date to the prom and my partner in crime when I wanted to sneak out after curfew. We were awful together, but that was most of the fun. She stuck by me when I told them and she also helped me get my first boyfriend.” He offered Tyler a toothy grin. “I owe her.”
Tyler pieced through the barrage of information. No girlfriend, but a boyfriend was in the mix. Double the wonderful. Why in the name of all that was holy did holding Allan’s hand have to produce such sizzles in Tyler’s body? His heart rate sped a bit when he glanced into Allan’s deep brown eyes. Damn it all to hell. Allan was taken. He was taken—well, kind of. He’d unintentionally become Blake’s bitch. Did Tyler want Allan? Want Allan to desire him? Hell yes. He doubted fate would agree and smile down on him, but a man could hope. Still, he wanted to feel Allan’s kiss on his lips. Would the kiss be soft and sweet or hard and commanding? And why did Tyler want to know? Because he liked Allan.
“You’re deep in thought.” Allan grinned again. “What’s on your mind? Please tell me it’s not Blake. He’s not worth your time or effort. He’s barely worth the air he breathes.”
“Not thinking about him. I want to kiss you,” Tyler blurted.
Allan’s smile widened and his eyes glittered. He stepped closer and let go of Tyler’s hand. He smoothed his palm over Tyler’s chest and up to his throat. He palmed the back of Tyler’s neck, drawing him close. He didn’t say a word as he crushed his mouth down on Tyler’s.
Although Allan commanded Tyler’s attention and controlled the kiss, he moved with sweetness. Allan nipped Tyler’s bottom lip and stole his breath. The whole world could see them but Tyler didn’t care. He wanted to be closer to Allan. He wound his arms around him and rubbed his jeans-covered crotch against the bulge in Allan’s pants. Holy moly. He liked being this close to Allan Clark and Allan seemed to be turned on just as much.
Every nerve ending in Tyler’s body tingled. He felt alive like he did when he took the field for a punt. He balled his fists. He wanted to fall into Allan and never surface. When he opened his mouth, Allan sucked on his tongue. Not hard, but Allan let Tyler know who was on top. The kiss felt good. No, it felt right.
Tyler moaned. So he was a shameless bottom? Did that fact matter? He was a hopeless romantic, too. Somewhere, he’d find the man who could love him and help him put the pieces back together. Someone who could understand what he’d been through and not want to run or insult him.
Was Allan that man? Tyler wasn’t sure but he wanted to find out.
Allan broke the kiss first and rested his forehead against Tyler’s. “Damn,” he said, drawing the word out. “That was…good.”
“Just good?” Tyler wobbled and thanked God he had Allan’s arms around him. He felt more like himself and didn’t want to revert back to the scared, silent man he’d become.
“I want to do that again.” Allan closed his eyes and whimpered. “Like a hundred times.”
“Me, too.” Tyler gulped air, forcing himself to breathe. He leaned in for another kiss.
Allan opened his eyes and pecked him on the lips then trailed his fingers over Tyler’s mouth. “I like kissing you. Really, but we’re going to be late. Kim will kill me. I’m not worried but I hate listening her to her lecture me for not being on time.” He rubbed his thumb along Tyler’s bottom lip. “We take up where we left off after we finish tending to the kiln?”
“Uh-huh.” Like he’d tell Allan no? Christ, the fire was already burning deep inside him. He dragged chilly night air into his lungs. A thought occurred to him. He should be with Blake. Not that he wanted to see Blake, but he’d made a commitment.
“What?” Allan slipped his hand into Tyler’s. “What’s wrong?”
“What about Blake?” He allowed Allan to tug him forward, but shit, he’d told Blake he’d be at the after party.
“What about him?” Allan let go of Tyler’s fingers then slid his arm around Tyler’s waist. He stuffed his palm into Tyler’s back pocket. “He dumped you and set you free to do whatever you want. You don’t owe him anything.”
“But I owe you?” Or I will. God. This was how he got himself into trouble. He trusted the wrong people. But was Allan really that wrong for him? And where in the hell was this flip-flopping coming from? Why didn’t it stop?
“You don’t owe me anything.” He squeezed Tyler’s ass. “Enjoy the evening and trust me. We’ll have fun, chuck some logs on a fire and maybe stoke a few flames of our own.”
Tyler bit back the protests on his tongue. A hundred reasons came to mind as to why the relationship with Allan wouldn’t work. He barely knew him. They were teammates and if they fought, the raw feelings would make it onto the field. Allan wanted different things out of life than he did. Then there was Blake. He gritted his teeth. Screw Blake. The man didn’t run his life. Sure, Blake would be pissed when he found out he’d lost his favorite toy but fuck it. Tyler wanted a night of his own and hot memories to last a lifetime.
“Well?” Allan asked. When he tipped his head to the side, a hank of his hair slipped over his forehead. Between the play of light on his face and the smile, he seemed younger and happier. Sexier.
“Let’s do this.” Tyler fell into step beside Allan. He liked the feeling of belonging to someone who wasn’t about to kick his ass or expect him to drop to his knees. When they reached the ceramics building, Allan opened the gate for Tyler and held it until Tyler passed. He even patted Tyler’s butt. Unlike Blake, with his condescending attitude and nasty comments, Allan was sweet and acted like he and Tyler had been together forever.
Once inside the fencing, Tyler kept a step behind Allan. He stopped short of him when they reached the kiln area. Orange light spread across the grass and lit up the woman’s face as she jabbed a long stick into the coals.
“That’s so cool. Is that the wood kiln?” T
yler blurted. He’d never seen anything like the igloo-shaped structure. He’d walked past the kiln in the daylight and without the thing being lit, but seeing it in working order blew his mind.
“I know,” Allan murmured. “I love helping when they fire it up. There are over three hundred pieces being fired in there. It’s awesome.” He grasped Tyler’s hand again. “Heya, Kimberly. Sorry I’m late, but I brought a friend. This is Tyler. Tyler, this is Kimberly.”
“Nice to meet you.” Tyler stuck out his free hand. He swept his gaze over Kimberly. She grinned and shook hands with him.
She eyeballed Tyler and he squirmed under her appraisal. He understood why Allan would want to be around her. The woman was beautiful. She’d pulled back her dark hair in a ponytail. The light from the fire accented her high cheekbones and wide eyes. When she smiled, a dimple deepened in her right cheek. She stood a few inches shorter than Tyler, but what she lacked in stature she seemed to make up in her commanding attitude. He had the feeling she didn’t take guff from anyone.
“I’m sorry if we’re intruding. I mean, if I’m intruding,” Tyler said. He backed up a foot and stood just behind Allan.
“You’re not intruding. It’s my pleasure to have you both here,” Kimberly said. “I was about to give Allan hell for being late, but he’s earned a pass. I’ve seen you before. Are you one of the players?”
“I’m the punter,” Tyler replied. “Three years on the varsity squad.” He wanted to tell her more, but most people he’d come across were either overzealous about football or didn’t give two shits. He wasn’t sure where her interests were. He didn’t want to bore her if she wasn’t a fan of the sport.
“Nice.” She clapped his shoulder. “Ready to work for me?”
“I am.” Allan shrugged out of his dress shirt, leaving him in nothing but his white undershirt. “Where do you want the wood piled up?”