“Really?” Matt said, all wide-eyed earnestness. “Well, this is going to sound insane, but is there any chance you’d want to tutor me?”
“In Statistics?” Trevor asked, confused by the change in topic.
“No, I’m killing it in Stats. In, um, sex.”
“What?” Trevor exclaimed. “Are you crazy?”
“Look, hear me out,” Matt said, retreating a few steps but not leaving. “I’m a . . . virgin. Hell, I’d never even done more than kissed a guy until you. And I don’t want to graduate college, get out of this place, and then be the loser who doesn’t know how to have sex. And—and I can’t, like, actually date someone. If the dean found out, my coach, some of my teammates, I’d lose my scholarship. There are no laws in Alabama protecting me from that.”
Trevor took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “Okay, I’m really trying not to take offense here. I let things get out of hand at the massage parlor. So I get why you’d think I might be into this sort of thing. But that was momentary insanity. I’m not a prostitute. You can’t pay me to tutor you in sex.”
Matt looked extremely uncomfortable, rocking from side to side, a nervous habit perhaps. “Uh, I wasn’t offering to pay you for sex. I thought maybe you’d, like, want to hook up. You know, with me. For free. ’Cause it’d be fun. And I like you.” He mumbled the last part, his shoulder slumping in dejection.
“Wait,” Trevor said, trying to sort things out. “You want to have a secret gay affair as sex buddies because you like me?”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid,” Matt said miserably, chewing on his lower lip. “I’ll go. I’m sorry.”
“You know what? I think that’s a great idea. You go out in the hallway and try this again,” Trevor said, a grin forming. Dear god, Matt Lancaster wanted to be secret fuck buddies. It was kinda hot. No, it was really hot.
“Huh?” Matt said, seemingly confused at Trevor’s grin.
“Go outside, knock on the door again, and say, ‘Trevor, I know this sounds crazy, but I think we had a connection at the creepy massage place. I know you didn’t do that with any other clients. I wondered if I could bring over a pizza, and we could secretly make out sometimes.’”
Matt laughed, a real smile lighting up his whole face. “Yeah, okay, that sounds way better. But, uh, you still have to teach me stuff.”
“Kinky. I kinda like the idea of being your sex tutor now, bossing you around and stuff, spanking you with a ruler.” Trevor smirked.
Matt’s eyes widened at that, and he audibly gulped.
“Oh, you’d like to be spanked, huh?” Trevor said in a low voice.
Matt groaned and flopped onto Trevor’s bed. “You’re killing me. Can we start now?”
Trevor glanced at the clock. He had to be at the coffeehouse for his shift in twenty minutes. Then he had tutoring. The following day he had classes, then more hours at the coffeehouse, then more tutoring. It never ended.
“I have to go work. I’m always working or studying,” Trevor admitted. “So I guess I really will have to look at my tutoring schedule and find a slot.” Trevor grabbed his phone to see his calendar as he heard Matt grunt out a chuckle. He looked up. “What’s so funny?”
“You said ‘slot,’” Matt joked.
“Oh my god, you really are a jock.” Trevor rolled his eyes. Then he looked back at his schedule. “Besides, you seem terrified of anything going into your slot.” He glanced up to see Matt turning red. This was going to be so much fun. “Okay, how about Mondays and Thursdays at 8 p.m.? My roommate has play rehearsal those nights.”
“Yeah, that works for me. Thursday is tomorrow,” Matt said, excitement lighting up his eyes.
“Yes, it is.” They exchanged numbers, and then Trevor nodded to the door. “Now get out of here before I forget I have to get to work.”
Matt gave a real slow smile, and sauntered, fucking sauntered, toward the door, shaking his fine ass, and then he turned and gave a big, exaggerated wink. “See you tomorrow.”
As Matt left, Trevor fell back onto the bed, laughing. Who knew the man would be so funny? Crap, a seemingly straight jock, rock-hard body, smart, sense of humor—yeah, he’d found the gay equivalent of a unicorn, and he was totally going to be screwed when this guy walked away. And he would eventually. So Trevor might as well enjoy him while he had the opportunity.
Trevor looked at his new tutoring client, whose head was buried in his book in defeat. For the fourth time in an hour. Trevor tried not to be amused at the theatrics.
“I’m going to fail,” came the mumbled voice. Jamal had been one of the many victims of Professor Wells’s Calculus midterm. They’d been reviewing the test in one of the library’s private study rooms, and so far, Jamal had made very little progress in understanding his mistakes. “I’m going to flunk out of college.”
Trevor tried not to roll his eyes. Freshmen were such drama queens.
“You’re not going to flunk out,” Trevor assured him. “You just slept through too many lectures. Look, we’ll meet again tomorrow, and I’ll go over differentials from the beginning. But you have to go to class.”
Jamal groaned loudly. “It’s every day at 8 a.m., and I’m exhausted from practice. But, yeah, I’ll go. If I don’t maintain a C minus, I’ll be kicked off the team.”
“What team?” Trevor shoved his books into his backpack.
Jamal gave him a look like he was an idiot. “Uh, the only one that matters—our football team.”
Trevor jerked his knee in surprise, hitting it on the desk. He winced. Shit, the mere mention of the football team had panicked him. He needed to lock his shit down if he was going to keep Matt’s secret. So this kid knew Matt? Had he let anything slip at all about tutoring Matt as well? No, of course not. He wasn’t that stupid.
“Right, the football team,” Trevor tried to reply casually. “So what’s your position?”
“Backup kicker.”
Kickers had to work with the quarterback sometimes, right? He really knew nothing about football. Maybe he should learn. “So, uh, how’s it going so far this year?” Trevor asked as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
“Don’t you go to the games?” Jamal shot back, as if that wasn’t actually conceivable to him.
“Not really,” Trevor said with a shrug. “Not my thing.”
“But it’s football. And Bodine is kicking ass this year. Plus, there’s beer and cheerleaders,” Jamal replied, as if these last two things sealed the deal.
“Yeah, still not my thing,” Trevor muttered as they headed through the library.
“You’re missing out, man.” Jamal shook his head, clearly dismayed at Trevor’s lack of school spirit. “Football is everything. It’s such a rush.”
Trevor had heard similar declarations about the glory of football a lot since coming to Bodine. And he’d heard it a lot in Dallas. But, really, aside from enjoying the tight uniforms on the players, what was the big deal?
“What exactly am I missing out on?” Trevor asked as they headed out the library’s front doors. And, for the first time (maybe because of Matt), he actually wanted to know.
“Well, me, I like the strategy and the teamwork. Like we’re conquering territory. Waging a war. Without any actual casualties,” he added with a laugh.
“Yeah, but that’s the players, not the spectators,” Trevor countered as they unlocked their bikes.
“Yeah, but you’re, like, part of the conquering team.”
“Okay, so you’re the knight and I’m the damsel in distress in the stands. Fuck that.” Trevor glared.
Jamal busted up laughing, leaning over he was so amused. “Ah, man, you’re funny. Never thought of it that way. Well, my sister says it’s fun because of the school spirit, you know. Hanging out with her friends, singing the fight song, drinking beer, eating crap food.”
“So it’s pretty much like going to a bar?”
“Except you’re with thousands of other screaming fans. And you’re
all united in your need to win. It’s . . .” Jamal trailed off. “What’s the word?”
“Euphoric? Unifying? Inspiring? Part of the human need to conquer that dates back to our Neanderthal beginnings?”
“Exactly,” Jamal said with a grin. “You should go to a game. It’s, like, part of the college experience.”
“Says the freshman,” Trevor joked.
Jamal shook his head and swung his leg over his bike. “Man, I may be dumb at calculus, but I know half of college is about the shit that doesn’t happen in the classroom. Keggers, chicks, and football. Sometimes all in one day.”
Trevor laughed. “Planning on living the dream, huh?”
“Hell yeah!” Jamal affirmed as they biked toward their dorms on the east side of campus. Trevor kept starting to ask more questions, but then he’d swallow his words, chickening out.
What the hell was wrong with him? Since when had he become unsure? Hell, maybe freshman theatrics were contagious. “So you like the team?” Trevor finally spat out. “I heard your quarterback’s good.” Oh god, he did not just say that.
Luckily, Jamal was oblivious. “Good? He’s the best in our conference. Guy’s talented as fuck. Have you seen his arm?”
Well, yes, Trevor had seen Matt’s arm, but probably not in the way Jamal meant. So instead Trevor sidestepped and asked, “Will he go professional?” And have to keep staying in the closet? he silently added.
Jamal laughed. “Nah, probably not. He’s great at the college level, but the NFL is a whole other thing. Besides, I don’t think he wants to keep playing. Just a feeling I get. He’s focused out there. Driven. But I don’t think he really likes it. Not like he used to.”
“‘Used to’? But you just got here.”
“Yeah, but I’m a Bodine fan born and bred. Lancaster was only a sophomore when he had to fill in for our starting quarterback, O’Connor. It was early in the season. O’Connor took a hard hit, busted his knee, and was out of the game before halftime. Lancaster had to step in and take over. And, from his very first play, Lancaster owned the place. Coaches knew he was it, you know. Pure fucking magic. He got moved to starting quarterback that year. Nothing could stop him. We almost made it to the National Championship game,” Jamal finished, more than a bit of awe in his voice.
“And now?”
“Don’t get me wrong, he still gets the job done. But there’s no victory dance after his touchdowns, no celebrating in the locker room after a win. He doesn’t really like all the attention. I hear the guy gives up half the pussy he could be getting. Seriously, every girl on this campus wants to fuck Lancaster.”
Trevor shook his head, feeling sorry for Matt. What would it be like to live with that kind of expectation? To have people watching him so closely? Clearly everyone expected Matt Lancaster to be a straight man-whore. Of course, he had chicks throwing themselves at him all the time. Maybe Matt sometimes took them up on their offers. It didn’t sound like the guy had had a lot of other choices for getting off. So was Trevor just convenient for him because he was the only male option for Matt?
Trevor shook off the thought as he waved good-bye to Jamal, splitting off toward his dorm. Matt had to like him as more than just a convenient dick. The guy was risking a lot by meeting up with him secretly. And, more than that, the way Matt had responded to him, the nervous guy that’d come to his dorm room—yeah, that was all real.
Matt wanted him.
Trevor tried not to feel excited as hell about that, but come on! He’d somehow landed the unattainable quarterback. Tomorrow could not come fast enough.
Trevor sprayed some expensive cologne on his neck. He had a weakness for it, and Drew had splurged on it for his birthday. God knew he couldn’t afford it on his own. Yeah, he was primping, but who the fuck cared? Should he spray some on his junk? Would it burn? Would it weird Matt out? Make him think all dicks smelled like exotic spices? Or only Asian dicks? He started laughing.
Which caused Drew to roll his eyes at him again. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” Trevor said with a shrug.
“Do you have a date?” Drew’s eyes narrowed.
“Yup, with Emily. It’s her night to pick a movie,” Trevor lied. He was a pretty good liar, actually. Had to be, growing up with his parents.
“Pathetic,” Drew said. “You spend too much time with your fag hag.”
“If she hears you call her that, she’ll punch you.”
Drew laughed. “Please, I’m just jealous. Nikki and I may barely survive her directing me in this play. Wish me luck!”
“Good luck,” Trevor dutifully responded, knowing that Nikki and Drew would survive just like he and Emily always did. They’d both lucked up with some pretty awesome friends.
Drew headed off, leaving Trevor with just enough time to finish getting ready. He slid on some funky black pants he’d found at a vintage store, baggy in the legs, but tight on his ass. A thin gray T-shirt and one of his leather wristbands. He’d noticed Matt eyeing them once. Then he straightened his bed and clicked on the playlist he’d chosen.
Matt had texted earlier asking what he liked on his pizza. They’d gotten into a debate on whether mushrooms were delicious or moldy plants. Matt had let Trevor win. Mushrooms and pepperoni. It was almost like Matt was . . . trying to make this a real date. And bringing food was always a sure way to win Trevor over.
When Matt knocked on the door, Trevor willed himself to calm the hell down. He opened it to find Matt standing with a large pizza, a six-pack of beer, and a really nervous smile. Matt’s unease calmed Trevor down immediately. He could do this.
“Come on in.” Trevor stepped aside.
Matt nodded and looked around, holding their dinner. “Where should I put all this?”
“We can eat on the bed,” Trevor said, sliding onto his red comforter. Matt started to nervously tap his fingers on the pizza box at just this innocent use of the bed, and Trevor tried not to laugh.
“Are you sure?” Matt asked.
Trevor gave him a slow smile. “Why? You want to do something else on the bed first?”
Matt shook his head, chuckling. “You’re fucking with me.”
“I’m flirting with you,” Trevor countered, really enjoying watching a big guy like Matt squirm. God, he was adorable.
“Oh.” Matt plopped down on the bed and set the pizza between them. It was from the best place in town, Mario’s Chicago Deep Dish. And then Matt handed him a fancy beer from the local brewery. Trevor hummed in approval. He was so sick of cheap pizza and crap beer. His belly grumbled in excitement.
Trevor happily took a sip—oh yeah, this was definitely a date. And Trevor realized it made him feel relieved, maybe? Happy? That the seedy massage place hadn’t stopped this from being something . . . nice. Almost normal. And that a guy like Matt could like him so much.
“I’m kinda out of practice,” Matt said, biting into a piece of pizza with gobs of melted cheese.
“With flirting?” Trevor asked. “So, you really haven’t dated anyone on campus?”
Matt shook his head. “Nah, a few kisses at bars out of town, but then I’d freak.” He shrugged. “I was shocked as hell when my friends told me they knew that I was gay.”
“Connor and your other buddies?” Trevor asked. “So, they weren’t playing a joke on you that day? Huh, hell of a way to tell you.”
“Seriously, but it was . . . also a relief, you know. They don’t care,” Matt added with a shake of his head, as if he still couldn’t believe it.
“I guess times really are changing,” Trevor replied.
“Yeah, but not everywhere, not everyone.” Matt’s jaw tightened.
“No,” Trevor agreed quietly, and they both ate in silence for a minute, trying to just enjoy the pizza and cold beer and each other and forget all the bad stuff.
And then a thought hit Trevor. “Wait, does Connor know you’re here? With me? And I was the one who . . .?”
Matt shook his head. “Nah, I mean, he know
s I liked you at the spa. He told me to go back. But I didn’t give up your identity.”
“Are you going to?” Trevor asked, curious how deep in the closet they’d be hiding.
“Um, yeah, if we— If this— If it’s okay.” Matt took a long gulp of beer, collecting his thoughts. “It’s hard to keep a secret from Connor. Apparently, more than I thought,” he added with a laugh. “And I don’t really want to. It’s nice not hiding. But he won’t think anything less of you. He’ll be fucking thrilled actually.”
“Sounds like a good friend,” Trevor said. “Just make sure you tell him you were the exception, okay?”
Matt nodded. “Oh, hell yeah, I’m bragging about that.”
Trevor laughed as Matt grabbed another piece of pizza, but this time he pulled off the offending mushrooms before biting in. “So, you’re from Texas? What brought you to Bodine?” Matt asked.
“Oh, uh, long story,” Trevor hedged.
“Something to do with your parents?” Matt asked a little too insightfully.
“How’d you know that?”
“Something you said in Freshman Lit. They’re, uh, not happy you’re gay?”
“That’s an understatement.” Trevor took a long sip of beer. It was still rather painful to talk about, no matter how often he told himself he was better off, that he didn’t care. The thing was: even when your family was shit, they were still your family.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Matt replied quickly. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Trevor said with a wave of his hand. “Essentially, their only son being gay was the greatest shame I could bring to the family. After all they’d been through. Leaving South Korea. Coming here. Sacrificing for me.”
“Jesus,” Matt cursed.
“Yeah, serious guilt. When I was younger, they pushed so hard for me to be Americanized, but then when I was a teenager, it’s like they suddenly regretted it. I was too ‘modern,’ too ‘outspoken.’ Of course, that just made me act out more.”
“You were a wild child?”
Trevor laughed. “No, god no. I was a straight-A student, planning on going to UT along with all my cousins on a full scholarship. But, you know, I pierced my brow, wore funky clothes, listened to weird music, broke curfew, and then they saw me put on eyeliner . . .”
The Quarterback Page 7