Making the Play

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Making the Play Page 11

by Megan Slayer


  “You’re in here.” Tyler sat beside him. “Well?”

  Allan opened his eyes and sat up. He wanted to touch Tyler and hold him. Instead, he kept his hands on his knees. “I know you don’t trust me, but I wasn’t the one to send those texts. Yes, they came from my phone because Blake stole it. He lied to Nathan about needing a pen or something and rummaged through my backpack. Guess he thought he’d put you in your place, make you miserable and keep us apart.”

  “You’re sure?” Tyler asked. He rested his forearms on his knees and folded his hands. “He’s underhanded, but I never would’ve thought he’d do that.”

  “He did. Coach knows and after that tackle I put on him and Devan, they both know I’m not putting up with their shit.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Ty, babe. I mean it. I’m not and I’m not letting you put up with it, either. You deserve more.” He bumped shoulders with Tyler. “There’s more to the Blake and Devan story, though. You probably knew they were a couple. Turns out Devan had fallen for Blake. He wanted Blake to move on from you.”

  “I never would’ve guessed,” Tyler said. “But I’m not surprised. They were too close for something not to have happened.”

  “Ty, I don’t care about those two. Don’t care about the texts, either. The only thing that matters to me besides football is you.” He slipped his arm under Tyler’s and palmed his thigh. “When you said you loved me, did you really mean it?”

  Tyler’s shoulders and chest heaved. He squeezed Allan’s hand then left the bed and stood. “Jesus. Yeah, I did—I do.” He scrubbed both hands over his face. “Al, you don’t understand. My head is spinning. I don’t know what to think.”

  Allan eased up behind him and ensnared Tyler in his arms. “What does your heart say? Your gut?”

  Tyler leaned into Allan’s embrace and rested his hands on Allan’s forearms. “My head, heart and gut are all in agreement. I’m in love with you. I’m not sure how to trust you.” He sighed. “Part of me knew you wouldn’t send texts like that. I wanted to believe you but I let my fears get the better of me.”

  Allan breathed in the scent of his man and basked in the feeling of Tyler in his arms. Damn, he cared about Tyler. No, he loved him.

  “This is all so fucked up.” Tyler swayed in Allan’s embrace. “Why can’t I find a normal relationship?”

  “I don’t know. I think we’re pretty normal.” He kissed the side of Tyler’s neck. “We’re human, too. We make mistakes.” Despite the cotton shorts in the way, he situated his burgeoning erection between Tyler’s ass cheeks. “This is new and exciting and scary. You’re hesitant to trust and I rush into everything. Makes us a good pair, though. I love you.”

  Tyler tensed. He eased around in Allan’s embrace. “What? You…you do?”

  He nodded. “There’s no one else I’d risk my potential football career for. Just you. Why? Because you’re important to me. I can’t see my life without you.” He cupped Tyler’s jaw in both hands. “My heart belongs to you and when I thought we were through, I didn’t know what to do. Everything within me shut down. I can live without you—I had until you came into my life—but I don’t want to.”

  Tyler bumped noses with Allan as he kissed him. “You’re corny when you’re emotional, but I like it. My heart broke when I thought you’d fucked me over.” He smoothed his palms over Allan’s chest. “I never should’ve thought you’d be the type to cut me to the marrow. My past and my worries shouldn’t have won out.”

  “I won’t hurt you if I can help it, but you’re within your rights to be cautious. What happened to you in the past was awful. I’m not Blake and I don’t want to be. I want your trust and everything else.” He kissed Tyler lightly on the lips. For the first time since the argument, his world righted on its axis. “Love you.”

  The light returned to Tyler’s eyes and he relaxed in Allan’s embrace. “I love you, too,” Tyler whispered. “As long as we’re a team, I’m good.” He slid his hands over Allan’s ass and squeezed. “Christ, we’re a mess.”

  “Nah. Just two guys fumbling through the beginning of a relationship.” But he didn’t want things any other way. He’d found his heart when he’d found Tyler. He’d do whatever Tyler wanted to help his lover overcome the past.

  “No,” Tyler said. “We’re a mess because neither of us has showered since practice.” He crinkled his nose. “I’m raw.”

  Now that Tyler had mentioned it, Allan noticed the smell. He’d been so caught up in Tyler he hadn’t cared. Still didn’t, but being sweaty meant they could have a hot time in the privacy of the shower—just not the shower Tyler used.

  “Then let’s go upstairs to my room and shower. Call it a marathon make-up session.” Blood coursed through his body and centered in his groin. He rubbed the bulge in his shorts against the growing one in Tyler’s. A grunt built in his throat. He couldn’t wait to get upstairs. He’d make up to Tyler all night long.

  Tyler rested his forehead against Allan’s and sighed. He pinched Allan’s nipple through the fabric of his shirt. “Soapy, hot fun and sleeping with you afterward? We’ve both scored.”

  Allan kissed him and opened his mouth to Tyler. He sucked on Tyler’s tongue, swallowing Tyler’s moan. Yeah, they’d both scored and he’d never let go.

  Epilogue

  Tyler stood in the wings of the stage at the school and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Nervous excitement ran through his veins. One day, he wanted to be working in a school like this. He wanted a classroom and a real job—not just pushing the broom and working the counter at the Clark family service station. Still, he wouldn’t have traded his life for anything.

  “Think he’s ready?” Greg Clark strolled up to Tyler. “Did he tell you what he’s going to do?”

  “Hasn’t said a word,” Tyler said.

  In the last two months, he and Allan had become nearly inseparable. Once the football season had ended with the brutal loss in their last game of the season, Tyler had bid goodbye to his career as a kicker. He didn’t mind. He wanted to write and teach, not boot pigskin for the rest of his life. Allan, though, talked non-stop about football and his potential career.

  Greg clapped Tyler on the shoulder. “He said when he made his announcement, he wanted to go big. Guess this is big.” He squeezed Tyler’s bicep. “I’m glad he hooked up with you. You’re a good kid and make him happy.”

  “You didn’t think I’d be the right match?” They’d never discussed such things before, but he thought he and Allan’s father had a decent relationship. Allan’s mother seemed to like him, too. She remembered him at Christmas and his birthday three days after Christmas.

  “I worried you weren’t mature enough. That he wasn’t mature enough. Now I see you were always great for each other.” Greg grinned. “You’re his rock.”

  “I’m trying to be,” Tyler said. If given the chance, he’d argue Allan was just his strength as well.

  “I’ll be in the audience. Al will have a fit if he sees Jessie or me.” Greg winked. “Here’s to him making the right decision for him.” He waved then strolled away.

  Tyler balled his fists within his pockets and widened his stance. He glanced out of the double doors to where Allan stood, surrounded by members of the local media. He knew Allan had made a decision, but what, Tyler wasn’t sure.

  “Thanks,” Allan said and walked away from the media. He ducked into the darkness behind the curtains on the stage. “Well. This is a little more intense than I’d planned.”

  “You’re the hometown boy who turned out all right. It’s a feel-good story.” Tyler kept his hands in his pockets. “It’s cool.”

  “Cool my ass.” Allan tugged Tyler deeper into the darkness. “I wanted to talk to you before I go out there. This is nuts.”

  “You’re going into the draft and putting your fate in the hands of one of thirty-two teams. It’s natural to be worried and scared.” He eased his hands from his pockets and gathered Allan into his embrace. God, holding Allan f
elt wonderful. Felt right, like coming home. “You’ve got me. I’m always in your corner.”

  “I’m glad.” Allan rested his forehead against Tyler’s. “I’m putting myself out there for the draft. I want to keep playing.” He paused. “But I’m stipulating that I’m finishing my degree and getting to walk across the stage at graduation. Seems silly, but I need to. I’m also doing the paperwork to get my license to teach.”

  “That’s— Wow. I’m thrilled for you.” He hugged Allan tighter. “I’m proud.”

  “You’re doing the paperwork for yours, right?” Allan nodded. “Working for Dad isn’t your career choice, right?”

  “That’s the plan. I’d like to write, though. Not just my blog, but to finish one of the short stories I’ve started.” He shrugged. “All that stuff on the hard drive of my computer… I want to finish some and do what I need to for it to be published.”

  “But writing won’t pay the bills.” Allan shook his head. “That’s the thing. We’ve got, what, a few months left? We’ll have a teaching license each, too. If I do end up getting picked up in the draft, I’ll still have to prove I can make the team—whichever team it is—but what if you took some time to write while I’m working with the team? Plan B is we both teach. Either way, I think what you and I have going is exactly what we need. I don’t want to go through this without you. Come with me?”

  “Al, I fully planned to stick with you. You’re my best friend and my other half.” He didn’t understand. They were a partnership—why wouldn’t Tyler stick with him? He hesitated before curiosity got the better of him. “Why? Did you think I’d run?”

  “No, I needed to be sure. It’s going to be tough in the next few weeks. More talks from scouts, more testing and tryouts. As long as I’ve got you beside me, I’ll get through it.” Allan grinned. “Also makes my surprise worth it, too.”

  “Another surprise? You’re going to catch your dream and you encouraged me to follow mine. What else is there?” His heart raced and he stuffed his hands into Allan’s back pockets. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You let me fuck you instead of me always being the bottom. Seriously, what else is there?”

  Allan shrugged out of Tyler’s embrace. He’d covered his arms with a long-sleeved, button-down shirt. He yanked the hem of the shirt out from his jeans and turned around. “Remember that night we got blitzed and you conned me into talking about my tats? I told you the stories about them?”

  “Yeah?” He remembered the night like it had just happened. They’d stayed up all night, fucking, drinking and just being together. Allan had described getting his first tattoo—his birthday and the day he’d signed his letter of intent to play for the Mustangs. He’d added tribal bands and geometric designs all over his arms until he’d covered all of the skin. The ink served to dull the frustration of wearing his body down in football in order to nab his dream. What else could he add?

  Allan shrugged out of the shirt. He handed Tyler the garment then hiked his undershirt over his shoulders. As he revealed his back, a dark spot on the smooth skin appeared.

  “You’re my partner, my lover and my biggest cheerleader. I’ve said a hundred times I can’t see my life without you. Well, now the rest of the world knows.” Allan glanced over his shoulder. “I belong to you. Always.”

  Tyler eased up to Allan and trailed his fingers over the calligraphic letters across Allan’s shoulders. His name on Allan’s skin. Permanently. The gravity of the situation hit him hard and he swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat.

  “What do you think? Surprised?” Allan eased the shirt back down and faced Tyler. “I had it done when I went to Cleveland to be evaluated. A friend of mine from school happens to have a tattoo parlor downtown and had time for me. He was impressed. Said if I’d found someone worthy enough to be inked into my back, then you must be pretty important. Not right now, but before this time next year, I want to marry you.”

  Tyler wobbled on his feet. He’d thought Allan’s announcement to go pro was the biggest, but he hadn’t expected Allan to say that. “You’re sure?”

  “Uh-huh.” Allan shrugged into the button-down shirt and stood before Tyler. “I want you in my forever.”

  “I’m right here beside you—thick and thin.” He helped Allan fix his shirt. “Love you, babe.”

  “Love you, too.”

  The principal of Allan’s former high school rounded the curtain. “It’s time. Ready?”

  “I am now.” Allan kissed Tyler one more time then strode out of the wings and onto the main stage.

  Tyler clapped along with the audience. The smile damn near hurt his cheeks, but he refused to withhold the pride swelling in his chest. He’d thought his life was over when he’d started the football season. He’d endured Blake’s attitude and sharp tongue and had almost accepted he didn’t deserve better. Then came Allan. If he’d thought he’d scored the night he’d accepted the ride from Allan, he’d gone to the playoffs and won when they’d decided to make a go of their relationship. Now he’d won the title game. He and Allan had a future together—with or without professional football, they had a plan. Finding his heart and his soul mate was the sweetest score of all.

  Also available from Pride Publishing:

  One Night With You

  Megan Slayer

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  I need a night to remember and forget. Tate Gibson sat in his car in the parking lot of Donovan Apartments and stared at the building. Although he saw the shadows moving in front of the windows, he wasn’t paying any attention. He had too much on his mind. He hadn’t planned on making the detour home and sure as hell not for the reasons he’d come back to where he’d grown up.

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. His friend Blake had sworn the party would be a good way to get his mind off his troubles. He had to be crazy. Coming to the college for a night of drinking and possibly hooking up with someone wouldn’t take his mind off anything. Still, he hadn’t driven across town to sit in his car.

  Tate left the vehicle and hit the lock. In less than forty-eight hours’ time, he’d be on his way back to South Korea. He scrubbed the top of his head with his palm. Jesus. He’d been through too much in the last year. He didn’t mind coming home, but not for a funeral. He was too young to deal with this kind of heavy psychological stuff.

  “Get your ass in here,” Blake shouted out of his front window. “Been waiting for you.”

  He sighed. Trust Blake to know when he needed to be pulled out of his own head. He strode across the parking lot to the apartment building. Someone had propped the door open and people milled around the foyer as well as up the stairs to the second level. He snorted as he approached the door to Blake’s. A thick rock held the door open and music blasted into the hall.

  Blake appeared in the doorway and held a plastic cup. “About damn time.”

  “It’s not a good day, okay?” He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “Lay off.”

  “I’ve got someone here I want you to meet.” Blake draped his arm around Tate’s shoulders and steered him into the apartment. “He’s sweet and handsome and loves to suck cock.”

  Finding a fuck friend for the night appealed to Tate, but he disliked when Blake set him up. “I don’t know.” Blake’s taste in men left more than a little to be desired.

  “Bullshit. You do, too. You want someone to make you forget, right? Even if for an hour? He’ll hit the spot.” Blake marched Tate up to a man with blond hair and a tattoo on the side of his neck. The man grinned and folded his arms. The muscles in his upper body bulged.

  “This is Lance. He’s up for anything and clean.” Blake pushed Tate into Lance. “You’re welcome.”

  Tate eased back a foot and forced a smile. He didn’t mind tats on anyone, but the neck tat of a skull breathing fire turned him off.

  “So, I hear you’re in the Army.” Lance nodded. “You’re a runner, too?”

  Oh fuck. “Yes, on the runner part. It’s
how I blow off steam, but no on the Army part. I’m in the Air Force. I oversee maintenance on the planes and work on them when they break down or are damaged.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lance’s eyes widened. “Sounds exciting.” He sipped from his plastic cup. “Uh, do you want a beer?”

  “Sure.” Truth be told, he didn’t need the alcohol, but he doubted Lance would keep up the conversation without it. He drifted to the edge of the living room and surveyed the crowd. For only twenty-six, he felt a lifetime older than the rest of the people at the party. Most of the men and women were still in college, worrying about papers, exams and life beyond graduation. Not him.

  He’d spent the last two days talking his mother down from her emotional ledge and suppressing his own feelings. He shook his head. He didn’t belong there. He’d been given five days’ leave and should be at home. Christ, there was so much to do. He refused to let anyone down again. What did he think he’d accomplish by going to a party? He could hear his sister’s voice in his head, reminding him to have fun. Fat lot of good that did for her. He’d gone off to join the Air Force and left her behind. She’d told him she’d be all right. Promised him she’d stay out of trouble. He should’ve known from the first moment he’d seen her latest boyfriend, Aaron, she’d be in for a world of hurt. He hadn’t held up his end of the deal. He’d let her live her life and in return, she ended up dead. His mother blamed him and Aaron, despite being the reason she’d gotten into the damn car, swore Tate’s leaving had caused her to act recklessly. Fucking hell. He so did not belong at a party.

  Tate kept his hands in his pockets and strode across the room. At the doorway, he collided with a solid body. “Sorry,” he muttered. When he glanced up, he stared into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. “Whoa.”

  The owner of the blue eyes grinned. “Hi.”

  “I’ll get out of the way. I was just leaving.” Tate ducked into the hallway and the cooler air.

 

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