Brett shook his head. “She’s wrong. I needed you today, Lancaster. And you broke my heart.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “We had thirty yards to go with just twenty seconds left on the clock. That would’ve been stupid when a field goal gave us the win. Why do you even care? You hate football.”
“Because I lost my bet. I said you’d win by a touchdown. You couldn’t have had some balls and gone for it?” Brett joked.
“You’re an asshole and filthy rich, so pay off your bookie and shut up,” Matt countered, tossing back his beer. Brett really could afford it, whatever the bet had been. His family was old-school money and legitimately loaded, whereas Matt’s dad spent all his money keeping up appearances, money he sometimes didn’t even have, because appearances were everything in his hometown of Albertine, Alabama.
Brett laughed. “Fine, I do hate football.”
“Then why do you watch?”
“Because it gives me something to talk to my dad about. Other than who I’m dating. He’s so disgustingly fine with me coming out of the closet. Thinks it’ll win him votes.” Brett sighed. “Now I finally have value to him.”
Matt winced. Brett’s dad was his own kind of overbearing and judgmental. Of course, Matt would have chosen Mr. Delaney over his own father any day. Brett’s coming out might have been tough, but at least he hadn’t been disowned.
Matt and Brett had met the first day of college. They’d been assigned to live across the hall from each other. When their fathers had met during orientation weekend, they’d gotten into a blowout of a political debate in the dorm lounge. It had been embarrassing as hell. Brett’s dad was a US Representative, a diehard Democrat. And so, of course, Matt’s conservative father despised him. Brett and Matt had watched from the sidelines until they’d actually had to step in to stop a fistfight. Then Brett had used his fake ID so they could both drown away their mortification that night. They’d been friends ever since.
It had been one of Matt’s first defiant acts, befriending Brett. And, like a true friend, Brett just kept coming through with more and more fodder for old man Lancaster to hate him for. Most recently, announcing he was gay two weeks ago. So he was pretty much the only person Matt could ask relationship questions . . . if Matt had the balls to tell Brett that he was also gay. Which he didn’t. Yup, he was a total coward. Well, maybe Matt could suck up some of Brett’s courage by osmosis instead.
“Yeah, but you came out with such style,” Matt said wryly. “Of course, he’s going to capitalize on that drama.” Brett laughed, and Matt wondered how Brett could look so damn carefree after dropping such a bomb and fielding the media backlash. But he did. Carefree and tall, surfer boy handsome in his baby-blue polo shirt. Too bad he wasn’t Matt’s type. Seriously, there wasn’t even a spark of attraction.
“Ah, yes,” Brett said, oozing self-deprecation. “Jägermeister and a public Grindr hookup. It was very tasteful.”
“Well, at least your frat boys are cool with it,” Matt observed, looking around at Brett’s fellow Kappa Sigma brothers.
Brett shrugged. “I bought them a flat-screen TV and told them their scrawny asses had never interested me. Seriously, they like to fart in each other’s faces.”
“To some people, that’s a turn-on.”
Brett chuckled, and then he turned a bit serious. “And you’re cool with it too?”
Matt scrunched up his brow. He’d been texting back and forth with Brett since the news had hit the press, trying to be supportive as hell. “Haven’t you been reading my texts, asshat?”
Brett relaxed into the couch. “Yeah, yeah. But, you know, some people say they’re supportive and shit and then avoid me.”
“Hey, I haven’t been avoiding you. You canceled on poker night last week. I would’ve gladly taken your money.” Matt grinned.
“Thanks.” Brett rolled his eyes. “Glad to know gay money is equal to straight money to you.”
“I’m not friends with you because of money,” Matt said, suddenly feeling defensive. He was not his dad.
Brett immediately seemed to understand and backpedaled a bit. “Hey, I know. You’re friends with me because of my awesome personality and amazing style.”
“And your humility,” Matt said with a shake of his head and a laugh.
“That’s me.” Brett leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “So, how are your sisters?”
Matt looked away. His sisters. One of the reasons he still couldn’t tell his old man to go to hell. Because if he did, his father would never let Matt see them again. His younger twin sisters had just turned seventeen over the summer. Another year, and their father wouldn’t legally have control over them anymore. One more year.
“They’re hanging in there.” Matt shrugged. “Dad has them going to a debutante ball thing through the fancy church he belongs to. They’re supposed to wear chastity rings.”
“No shit?” Brett said, his brows drawing together. “Is that even real?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty gross. Dad doesn’t even believe in it. I mean, my mom got knocked up with me before they were married. Worst thing that ever happened to her.”
Brett slapped his shoulder. “No, you weren’t. Come on, I never met her, but the way you talk, she loved you guys. A shitload. And she was smart, the way she made sure ya’ll would still be close to her family after she was gone.”
Matt nodded; that was true. His mom had passed away when he was twelve after battling leukemia for six years. A long six years. That was why she’d stayed with his dad. First for him, then for his twin sisters (also an accident), and then finally because without his father, she had no health insurance.
But she’d asked in her will that her children would spend the summers and Thanksgiving holidays with her sister, his Aunt Sally. His mom’s side of the family was nothing like his father’s side. His aunt and uncle were loving and accepting and full of laughter. He loved spending time with them.
And, to make sure his father followed through with her request, his mom had asked that her wishes be read aloud at her church funeral. She knew his father would uphold her wishes to save face. God forbid he lost his status in the parish and thus all his clients.
“Yeah, Aunt Sally and Uncle Larry say they’re gonna try smoking the turkey this year. Oughta be a disaster.” Matt laughed.
“Take pictures if they burn the house down,” Brett replied. “You want another beer?”
Matt nodded, and as Brett left, Matt realized Jocelyn was now heading his way with a determined look in her eyes. She plopped down in his lap again, entwining her arms around his neck, and grinding slowly against his lap . . . with absolutely no reaction on his part. He put on a charming smile anyway.
“Wanna dance?” she crooned.
He shrugged. “I don’t dance.”
“Come on, baby,” she tried again.
Baby? Uh, no. Matt gently pushed her off his lap, shaking his head. “You go. I’ve got to make a call.”
Jocelyn pouted as he stood up, but Matt had no intention of giving in. He headed outside, pulling out his phone to fake a call, but as soon as he was far enough away from the party, he shot off a quick text to Brett that he was bailing and slid it back into his pocket. He’d rather just crash out for the night than return to the revelry. The evening was colder than usual for this early in the fall quarter, but he was glad for it. Helped clear his head.
Matt started walking across campus toward his dorm. So much for getting Brett’s advice tonight. Not that he really thought he’d be able to ask, but shit, he was going out of his mind. He’d hoped seeing Trevor the second time would lessen the obsession, not increase it. But he was an idiot. Matt just wanted more. His dick was finally getting some action.
More than that, he liked the guy. Trevor was easy to be around. Which was weird as fuck, because their recent interactions had been anything but ordinary. Yet somehow Trevor hadn’t made Matt feel awkward or desperate or sleazy. It had been nice, actually, fun.
And whom was he kidding? He’d had a crush on the guy since Freshman Lit. He even remembered the day it had happened. He’d missed his own discussion group section due to practice, so his TA had suggested he sit in on the Wednesday afternoon session instead, the one Trevor had been assigned to.
Trevor’s hair had been shorter back then; he’d been less filled out than now, scrawnier, but he’d still been hot. He’d worn the softest-looking blue T-shirt, baggy black pants, and these funky sneakers. He’d had that damn barbell in his eyebrow and row of black leather bracelets up his wrist. Yeah, Matt had a thing for guys with a punk edge.
But it was more than his looks. Everyone else in the section had given these pompous answers to the TA’s questions, thinking they were hot shit their freshman year, but Trevor had kept his mouth shut. Listening and following along, but seemingly equally underwhelmed by their classmates’ pontificating. He hadn’t spoken unless directly called on. Which hadn’t been until the end of class. And when Trevor had opened his mouth, his interpretation of Oedipus had been so unexpected . . . so dead-on.
“Look, everyone’s obsessed with him banging his mom,” Trevor had said. “But at the end of the day, isn’t the biggest fuck-you to his father? Seems to me Sophocles was saying that you can’t trust anyone, even family. They’ll literally screw you. So, why not screw them first?”
Everyone had been shocked, and then their TA had started laughing. “You and Freud should talk.”
Trevor had given a small smile, but it had been a little sad. Matt had wondered what his parents had done to him. Because he’d recognized that look. He probably looked the same way when he thought about his dad. Now Matt wondered if it was because Trevor was gay. Had his parents not been okay with it? Matt knew if he came out, his dad would be livid. And he’d definitely disown him.
Matt was twenty-one now, almost graduated, almost to the point where it wouldn’t matter anymore. But he hadn’t broken ties to his old man yet. Not while his sisters were still living with him. Even if his dad did disown Matt when he finally revealed the truth (which he was kinda hoping for), he’d still have his awesome aunt and uncle and sisters. But whom did Trevor have?
Trevor had been eighteen back then, so damn young. Had his entire family already screwed him over? Had they refused to help pay for college? Probably. Why the hell else would he be working at the massage place? Plus at the coffeehouse and as a tutor. Matt had asked around. The guy had an academic scholarship, but had to pay for his room and board. Which wasn’t cheap. He probably couldn’t get financial aid, just like Matt couldn’t—because his family made too much.
And so Matt felt like a scumbag when he caved a few days later and called to make another appointment. Like he was taking advantage of Trevor’s situation. But then the spa manager, Samantha, told him, “I’m afraid Trevor is booked up. Would you like to try another one of our massage therapists?”
Matt went from feeling guilty to feeling crushed. “Um, does he have anything later in the week?”
“I’m sorry. He’s unavailable,” Samantha firmly told him.
What the hell? Matt quickly declined another masseur and hung up the phone. Was Trevor avoiding him? Had he done something wrong? The whole thing was sketchy as hell. But still. Trevor had clearly told his boss he never wanted to see Matt again.
Well, that was shitty. Matt tried to tell himself it was better this way. It had been a stupid thing to do. But, three days later, his attempts to remain unaffected had turned into a simmering anger. What the fuck had he done wrong for Trevor to avoid him? Oh, god, had he done something weird, like, sexually?
Screw it. He needed to know. He needed to clear this up, so that if they met on campus again, it wouldn’t be awkward. He’d go down to the massage parlor tomorrow and confront the guy.
“What do you mean, ‘he quit’?” Matt said as Samantha gave him a long-suffering look.
“Did I stutter? He quit,” she said again.
“Why?”
Now that made her cross her arms and size him up. “Honestly, probably ’cause of you. So, don’t think you’re my favorite person right now.” She leaned in. “Trevor was popular here even though he only ever provided deluxe services to you.”
Matt felt a thrill of happiness at her words. “Really? Just me?” Sure, Trevor had said he didn’t do it with other clients, but Matt had been a bit afraid it was just a line.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured. “But the other clients sure liked to look. Trevor so does not belong in Bodine. He could be a runway model in New York. Or, you know, posing in sexy ads for expensive colognes.”
“Yeah, he’s cute.” Matt looked down at his shoes like an awkward middle schooler.
“You’re pathetic,” Samantha said. “Seriously, both of you are. Don’t you go to college together? Just find him on campus.”
“Oh.” Matt had kinda purposefully avoided that. Here was safe. Back at campus . . . he could be exposed.
A perky redhead came out of the back and gave him a slow smile. Her top was giving him a hell of a view of her cleavage. And . . . it did nothing for him. Yup, still gay.
“Hi, sweetie, want a massage?” she crooned to Matt, looking at him like he was a piece of steak.
“You’re not his type,” Samantha snapped. “Now go,” she said, swatting Matt out the door. “Shoo, puppy, shoo.”
He stalked to his car and pulled out his phone. Okay, Bodine had a campus directory. He could do this. He had to do this. Because it was either confront Trevor now when it was under his control, or later, when they ran into each other on campus. With witnesses. Yeah, screw that.
What had seemed like an easy task actually took fourteen texts and various emails, to find out where the “Statistics tutor” lived (he really was adding to the whole dumb-jock thing). And so, an hour later, Matt headed down the dorm hallway and knocked on Trevor’s door.
A minute later, Trevor was in front of him. And he was shocked as hell. “Holy shit, what are you doing here?”
“You quit,” Matt stated. That about summed it up.
“Yeah, I quit. And I’m not taking house calls. Is that why you’re here?” Trevor snapped.
“No. Shit, no,” Matt instantly replied, holding up his hands in innocence. “I, um, just wanted to make sure you were all right. You’re not going to drop out, are you?”
“Drop out?” Trevor looked genuinely confused.
“Because of money . . .” Matt said, awkwardly trailing off.
“Oh, no, I got a bunch more tutoring clients because there’s a new Calculus professor who’s failing everyone. And I can live off ramen noodles. Done it before.” Trevor shrugged. “It seemed better . . . than working where I was.”
“Yeah, right. Okay,” Matt said. And then he kept standing there awkwardly. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want the poor guy subsisting on ramen noodles. This wasn’t exactly the closure he’d been looking for, so what the hell?
“Look, can I come in?” he asked.
Trevor raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You shouldn’t.”
Matt gave his most charming smile, the one that made his dimples pop and girls swoon. “Yeah, but you’re gonna let me anyway.”
“Oh fuck,” Trevor said with defeat and stepped aside.
Trevor retreated into his room as Matt followed. When the door closed behind them, their awkwardness only increased. Thank god his roommate had classes the rest of the afternoon. Drew would be going ballistic if he knew the college quarterback was in their room. And it was a crappy dorm room, dark and cramped. They’d always had terrible luck with the housing lottery.
Matt looked around, taking in Drew’s side of the room, his wall covered with a massive Rent poster and pictures of half-naked men in various “artistic shots.” Then Matt turned to Trevor’s side of the room. And Trevor felt pretty damn proud of the obscure vinyl records he’d found at a garage sale and repurposed as art.
“Cool records,” Matt said, apparently liking them as well.
�
��Thanks, sorry it’s a mess,” Trevor offered weakly. Their room wasn’t that messy, but they both had clothes piled over their chairs and their comforters were just thrown atop their messy sheets. But, hey, it could’ve been way worse.
“So, uh, your boss told me that you might have quit because of me,” Matt said, finally turning to look at Trevor again. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”
Trevor had not been expecting that. Samantha never nosed into other people’s business. She certainly wasn’t a gossip. But she had made a few comments about Trevor looking Matt up outside of the spa. Was Samantha really trying to play matchmaker? Talk about a messed-up “how did you meet” story for dinner parties.
Because Matt and he were so going to dinner parties together. He was seriously losing it. “She told you that?” he finally managed to ask.
“Uh, yeah. She also said you made an exception doing deluxe services for me. I guess I must have been pretty pathetic, huh? So, even if you did it out of pity, well, thanks.”
“I didn’t do it out of pity,” Trevor said.
“You didn’t?” Matt asked, looking hopeful. And annoyingly adorable with his big blue eyes.
Trevor rolled his own eyes. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror? You’re hot. You’re a gay man’s fantasy. A straight quarterback.”
“I’m not straight.” Matt said it firmly. As if this was a very important distinction to make.
“No, I didn’t think you were,” Trevor softly replied.
“I’m gay,” Matt whispered. “Sorry, just needed to say it out loud for the first time.”
Trevor drew in a sharp breath. Shit, that was a big moment Matt had just trusted him with. “You said it just fine,” Trevor responded. Oh, god, what was this stupid mushy feeling he had inside?
“Thanks.” Matt ran his fingers through his hair. “It felt good. Freeing, you know?”
“I do know.” He really did. It had ruined his childhood saying it aloud for the first time, but it had also freed him. “Look, if you need to talk about it more, or need any advice . . .” Trevor heard himself stupidly offering. Since when was he the gay welcoming committee?
The Quarterback Page 6