by Megan Slayer
Tyler pressed his lips together to keep from drooling. Holy crap. He knew the man was built, but seeing him in nothing but the undershirt should’ve been illegal. The cotton fabric clung to his upper body like a second skin and hinted at the strength he possessed. In the chilly air, his nipples beaded and showed through the thin material.
“Right there.” She laughed and jabbed the stick into the dirt. “You don’t have to show off, you know. I’ve seen you naked plenty of times. Or was that your plan? Get the newb to cream himself before we get anything accomplished?”
“I’m trying to keep my shirt clean,” Allan said. “It’s new and I’d like to keep it that way.” He stepped up to her and murmured something Tyler couldn’t hear.
Tyler fidgeted in place. Damn. Allan was probably telling her to stop teasing him and mentioning the boyfriend he had.
When Allan scurried around the building and out of sight, Kimberly swatted Tyler’s arm. “Ever got this close to a working kiln? Look in there.” She pointed to a small opening at the front of the kiln. “Neat, huh? We argue over who gets to light it. Unfortunately, we only do two firings with this thing over the course of the semester. I wish we did more because I love the effects of the wood and coals on the clay pieces, but I’ll take what I can get.”
He leaned over and peeked through the small venting hole again. The items inside the kiln seemed to glow. Were they hot enough that they could be glowing for real? Not just appearing to because of the light from the fire? When he glanced over his shoulder, he noticed his friend. Allan dropped an armload of logs onto a small pile of wood then darted away again. Tyler wiped his hands on his pant legs. He should be helping Allan.
He followed Allan around the building to a wall of stacked logs. He loaded up until he couldn’t carry any more and brought them to Kimberly. As he retrieved a second load, he watched the play of fabric over Allan’s ass when he bent over. Damn, he has a nice butt. He wanted to cradle that rump in his hands and feel Allan’s nude body on his.
When he dropped the second load, something beeped. Tyler stood upright. “I hear an alarm clock? Are you checking the temperature or something?”
“That’s Allan’s phone.” Kimberly nodded to Allan, who’d walked away with his finger in his ear and his phone pressed to his head.
“Oh.” Tyler pointed to the wood pile. “Did you want more or is that good for now?”
“That’s fine.” Kimberly poked the logs at the front of the kiln, moving the glowing coals around. “I’ll use it over the next couple of hours. Seems like it wouldn’t go fast, but it will. We add it to various venting spots around the kiln so the fire stays relatively even throughout the firing. It produces a crazy amount of heat, but the pottery comes out fantastic.”
Speaking of ‘fantastic’, he stole a glance over at Allan. He paced the length of the fence and spoke into the phone. Whatever he was talking about, Tyler couldn’t hear him.
“So.” Kimberly eased up beside Tyler. She jabbed her stick into the ground. “You’re the kicker. I bet that’s pretty cool. You don’t get plowed over like some of the players and won’t get hurt as often.”
“Something like that. I’m a punter.” He shrugged. “I end up getting crashed into at least once a game. If I’m lucky, it’s not a hard hit, but every so often a player decides to get in a good lick.”
“Huh. You wouldn’t think they’d be out for blood like that, but whatever it takes to win, I guess.” She frowned. “I was at the game for the first half. I could’ve sworn I saw you kick a field goal. You’re number eight, right?”
“I am. I kicked the field goals tonight because our regular kicker got hurt. He’s been complaining about his knee and, at the beginning of the game, he was tackled. One of those particularly hard hits. His thigh went one way and his calf went another. Coach says it’s an ACL injury. The team doctor didn’t say if it was a sprain or a full tear, but I’ve never seen Harden scream like that, so I’d be willing to bet it’s torn.” He scrubbed a hand over his cheek and chuckled. “Sorry. I can talk your ear off with football info if I’m not reined in.”
“You’re not bothering me.” She yanked the stick from the ground. “I love football and usually go to the games. I left early this time because I had to work the kiln. We won, I take it?”
“Yeah, but fourteen points.” According to the coach, they’d played well and earned the win, but according to Blake the score was too close.
“So.” She dipped her head and kicked at the cracked dirt beneath her feet. “Who picked up whom?”
“Huh?” He thought he knew where she was going with the conversation but he hadn’t expected her to ask the question.
“Did Allan pick you up or vice versa?” She smiled. “He’s a charmer. If you’re not careful, he’ll get under your skin for life.”
“I— He— We…” God. “He offered me a ride to the after party.” Why do I have to sound so freaking lame? Because he had very little confidence off field and even less experience dealing with romantic situations.
“Do you like him?” She stepped between Tyler and Allan, although Allan was still pacing along the fencerow and wasn’t paying Tyler any attention.
“Yeah.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “But it won’t work. I kind of have a boyfriend. It’s messy.” He turned his back on her and wished he hadn’t been quite so honest. Jesus. If she thought he might be good for Allan, he’d just fucked it all up.
“How is whatever you have going with the other guy messy?” she asked. “Like you had a fight tonight? Or he dumped you and you’re stinging from the break? Or what?”
“It’s complicated.” He’d said enough. He didn’t need to bore her with details, as if he’d never really thought he and Blake were an actual couple. They fucked when the mood hit Blake right and were called a couple in public because Blake wanted to show everyone he could own people.
“Well, then, be honest with Allan. He’s infatuated with you.” Kimberly rounded him and stopped between him and the fire. “I know you think it’s new and there’s no way anyone like him could even begin to think they might like you, but I know Allan and I think I’ve got your number, too. He’s one of those guys who shoots straight. He tells you or me or whomever exactly how he feels. You need a confidence injection, stat.”
“Nah, it’s not like that. Allan and I are just friends and teammates. We’ll be fine.” God. He was lying. He wanted to be more than friends with Allan. Who didn’t? The man was gorgeous and sweet as hell, but the shadow of Blake remained and Tyler wasn’t a cheater.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, especially since I saw that kiss.” Kimberly walked away and stuck her poker into the fire. “I need logs,” she called. “Bring them here beside the kiln so I can toss ’em in. Maybe you can work on a better explanation for the situation while you’re at it.”
Tyler scrambled to the log pile. His ass buzzed. Fuck. My phone. He slid the device from his pocket long enough to read the screen. Blake. As much as he hated to displease Blake, he also hated the man. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and scooped up the logs. Arms laden with wood, he hurried around the building. He dropped them by the others headed into the kiln then glanced at Allan.
Allan thrust his fingers through his hair and continued to speak into his phone. Whatever he was saying was out of Tyler’s earshot.
Tyler rested his hands on his hips and turned his attention back to the fire. He debated his next move. If he started walking, he’d get to the party late, but still at a reasonable time. But he’d be leaving Kim high and dry. She’d have Allan for help, though. Was that enough? Did she need two bodies assisting? Probably, in case something went wrong. He watched her stuff the logs into the fire then poke at the coals. He had nothing against her. She seemed nice and he hardly knew her. If he left, he doubted she’d be too upset.
Allan would be pissed, and rightfully so. He’d witnessed the altercation between Blake and Tyler. Blake was a son of a bitch when p
issed and even worse after too many drinks. Give him a semi-private space and liquor and he switched from his normally affable persona to the devil. He hated when Blake turned on him. Well, no, he hated Blake almost all the time, but he’d kept his mouth shut and allowed Blake to win. Why didn’t he say anything and stand up for himself? Because he kept hearing his father’s voice in his ear.
Good boys aren’t gay.
What the fuck did he know? He had no idea how it felt to have to figure himself out then to admit to others about his sexual identity. He winced as the memory of his backhanded slaps came back to mind. He’d suffered his father’s wrath without saying a word. Maybe he was crazy or liked the pain? No, he hated when his father had hit him—almost as much as he hated when Blake laid into him.
Then what the hell am I still doing in a relationship with Blake?
Tyler stared at the flames. Something he’d learned in therapy came to mind. A man couldn’t change his life until he’d experienced rock bottom and admitted he had a problem. Once he came to terms with his addiction, he was ready for help. Tyler sighed. If Blake and Blake’s dick were his addictions, then he’d hit the bottom and was ready to make a change. The last punch from Blake had seared into Tyler’s memory. That punch was his bottom and he knew it. He didn’t deserve to be hit—by his worthless excuse for a boyfriend, his father or anyone else outside of the football game.
Was Allan going to be the magic balm to heal all the wounds in his life? Probably not, but Allan could be a great starting point to getting better. Getting into a relationship with Allan could be good but also had the potential to turn ugly—especially after the shit with Blake. But he needed a bright spot in his life. So far, Allan was turning out to be a worthy fresh start. He could be himself and not the shell of a man he’d become while with Blake. Plus, he could stop the damn flip-flopping. He hated himself for seeming to string Allan along while allowing Blake to keep him on an invisible leash. He disliked the push-pull of being with Blake. Time to make a decision and stick with it. Allan deserved his full attention and Tyler deserved a new start with someone who wanted to be with him, not treat him like shit.
Before Tyler could start moving forward, he needed to speak with Allan. He wanted to start things off right—after Allan got off the phone.
Chapter Three
Allan kicked at a chunk of dirt and gripped his phone again. Just about the time he’d thought he’d been done with Blake and could return to the kiln, Blake had called a second time. He pinched the bridge of his nose and continued to listen to Blake’s tirade. Where in the hell did the man get the impression he owned other people? And why was he being such a freaking jerk? Christ. People were people, not property, and besides, Allan was wasting too much time arguing when he could’ve been hanging out with Tyler.
“Are you about done?” Allan asked between Blake’s growls.
“No. Get that piece of shit here now,” Blake snarled. “I’m tired of waiting on him.”
“You’ve never waited on anyone in your life. You take what you want and destroy it. I don’t see things the way others see you. Remember how you were in school? What the fuck made you become such a jerk? You’re never going to go pro if you act like a dick.” Allan focused on Tyler’s silhouette in front of the fire. God, Tyler struck a sexy pose without even understanding what he was doing. Boy, he knows how to kiss! Allan licked his bottom lip and wished he was kissing Tyler instead of talking on the phone.
“Don’t you dare speak to me that way! You have no idea what’s going on. Tyler is mine,” Blake said. “The team is supposed to be here for a party—all of us. We don’t have our kicker or our returner.”
“Technically, he’s a punter,” Allan corrected. “But he’s a damn good points kicker, too.”
“Fuck you. Whatever. You know what to do.”
Good old Blake. Resorting to insults when cornered. Well, now he knew. Blake wanted to be the shit but he couldn’t handle when the spotlight wasn’t on him. Allan would be willing to bet the only reason Blake criticized Tyler’s kicks were because he needed to belittle him. Why? Because Blake knew Tyler was damn good at his job on the team.
“You’re right. I do know what to do,” Allan said. “I’m hanging up on you and ignoring you. Since you dumped him, I’m asking Tyler out. Don’t expect us at the party. ‘Night, Blake.” He swiped his thumb across the screen to end the call then headed across the small grassy area to Tyler and Kimberly. Fuck Blake. He eased up beside Tyler but didn’t say anything.
“Hey.” Tyler smiled. “I thought you’d been sucked into the black hole of that corner.”
“Nope. I had a phone call I needed to deal with before we could resume our date.” He liked being able to call what they were doing a date. He’d always envisioned going out as a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant and taking in a movie afterward, but tending to the fire and hanging out at the kiln was better. They had a nice, private space to talk and get to know each other without interruptions from others.
“We’re really late for the party.” Tyler widened his stance and folded his arms. The muscles in his biceps bulged. “I’m not interested in going, but we are late.”
“If you don’t want to go and I’m fine where I’m at, then we’ve got our answer.” He tapped Tyler’s arm. He wasn’t overly built but he definitely was packing the goods. “Come here. I wanted to show you something.” He nodded to Kimberly. “Is it where we can see it?”
“Your pot?” she asked. “Sure is.” She crouched down about ten feet from the opening of the kiln. “Peek through here. It might seem a little different from what you remember but it’s there.”
He slid his hand around Tyler’s arm and tugged him forward. “That’s part of the reason I wanted to help. I’ve got a pot in the fire. Plenty of people sign up for the day shifts but almost no one wants to come after dark.” He laughed and crouched beside Kimberly. He scanned the contents of the kiln near the front of the hot box. Sure enough, his slightly lopsided wine jug was where she’d said it would be. He met Tyler’s glance and nodded. “That’s mine. The wobbly edged wine jug. It’s my latest attempt on the potter’s wheel. It actually turned out, so I asked to have it fired tonight.”
“That’s awesome.” Tyler smiled again and Allan’s heart leaped. The air between them changed. Tyler, even after only a few moments, seemed different and lighter. “I’ve never used a potter’s wheel. I saw the girls back at my high school use it. They created some neat bowls and stuff.”
“I came in after class to work on it.” He stood and dragged air into his lungs. The action from the game and having to get up at five that morning was starting to catch up to him. He yawned.
“I’m that boring?” Tyler laughed. “I should be offended but I’m not. It’s getting late.”
The throaty chuckle was music to Allan’s ears. “It’s late but not bad. At least it wasn’t a road game tonight where Coach insisted we go straight home. I hate those.”
“Yeah, those are rough. I tend to get a seat to myself so it’s not as bad. I listen to my mp3 player and sleep or read.”
“Nice.” The more he learned about Tyler, the more he liked him. “You’re in a better mood.”
“I am.” Tyler stuffed his hands into his pockets. For the first time since they’d left the locker room, Tyler seemed relaxed. He rocked on the balls of his feet. “I’ve never been over to the ceramics area of campus and never would’ve been able to see the fire like this without you. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Allan smothered a smile behind his hand then wrapped an arm around Tyler. “You’re shivering.” He wasn’t sure if Tyler was chilly. Good Lord, the fire sent fingers of heat all around the kiln but he wanted to touch Tyler.
“It’s cold. If I’d known we’d be outside I would’ve grabbed my jacket from the car.” Tyler leaned into Allan’s side embrace. “How long do we have to stick around here?”
“Another half hour or so. Unless Kimberly kicks us out earlier.” He checked his w
atch. Half past eleven. By now the party would be in full swing. Coach would be either gone or about to leave and the upperclassmen would take over. Did he want to be in that environment? He was part of the team and on his last year. He should be at the party and setting an example for the younger players. Well, no. He should be keeping his nose clean. The scouts wanted guys who weren’t troublemakers. The more time he spent doing positive things, the better he’d appear on paper.
“You were on the phone a long time,” Tyler said. “Anything exciting? A call from the scouts saying they were checking up on you or they’d started a war on who will get you in the draft?”
“Nothing that exciting, although I’m hoping the scouts were watching. I had a career game in my new position. Granted, I just started said position, but it was a fantastic debut in my new role.”
“You were explosive.” Tyler pulled away from Allan long enough to carry another armload of logs over to the pile. Kimberly kept sneaking glances at him and Allan but didn’t say anything. He knew the look on her face. She wanted him and Tyler to get together. So did he, but he had to move with care. He had no idea how long Tyler had been with Blake or how much damage the quarterback had done to him. Tyler reminded him so much of his friend Jared. He wished Jared was still around. Maybe he and Tyler would’ve been friends.
As Tyler jogged behind the building for more wood, Kimberly hurried over to Allan. “He’s got a boyfriend,” she said.
“Not any longer.” Allan chuckled. “I took care of that.” Pride swelled within him. He wasn’t much of a matchmaker but he wasn’t afraid to step in when he believed someone else was in harm’s way. If he and Tyler ended up together then great. If not then he’d have stopped a bad situation from getting worse.
“You did?” She narrowed her eyes. “How? You didn’t threaten to kick anyone’s ass, did you?”