by Felix Brooks
“You’re Waseem’s friend, yeah?”
Jake turned to him, vision slightly blurred. “That’s me.”
Dude held out his hand. “Garon.”
“Jake. But you can call me loser.”
Garon chuckled, a low rumbling sound in his throat. “This have to do wit’ the guy from last time? One you were sucking face wit’?”
Jake threw back the last of his whiskey. “How’d you guess?”
Garon ordered a draft from the bartender, then turned back to Jake. “Your boy’s in the closet, yeah?”
“I don’t know what he is. Not out, that’s for sure. Says he’s never been interested in a man before.”
Garon nodded. “Maybe he’s trying to figure things out, and you’re getting hit wit’ the shrapnel.”
“You could say that.” Jake smiled, and his chest lightened a little. “He pulled the same shit again today, and I let him.”
But then, Garon’s words sank in. Jake’s stomach tightened. As a peer counselor at the campus LGBT center, he’d talked to guys who were questioning. He’d been sympathetic then. But all he’d shown Emmett was anger and judgment.
“Shit,” Jake said. “I can’t believe I’ve been so selfish. I didn’t give one thought to what Emmett is struggling with. It’s not just football. It’s his identity.”
“Maybe he could use a friend.”
Jake wagged his head. He needed to shut up the stupid voice in his head, which was now telling him to find out what was going on with Emmett—because what if Garon was right?
Well, what if he was? Emmett was attracted to Jake, but he didn’t want to be. Which was worse than him not being attracted at all. He was actively rejecting Jake.
He wobbled on the barstool and the room spun. He’d never drunk this much liquor this fast before, and that plate of chicken wings didn’t exactly fill up the hollow in his stomach. He should eat, but now he wasn’t sure he could keep it down. He wasn’t even sure he could stay balanced in his seat.
The bartender delivered Garon’s beer. Garon pointed toward Jake and asked, “How much my friend here have to drink?”
“That was his third.”
“No more for him tonight, okay?”
“Good call,” the bartender said.
Jake was as pliant as an infant as Garon helped him to a table. Jake sat. The nicely balanced chair was closer to the ground than the barstool and felt less shaky.
Garon retrieved his beer, and Jake took a calming breath. “I’m not usually such a lightweight,” he said.
“Last time, you nursed your drinks,” Garon said. “Your boyfriend—what’s his name again?”
“Emmett. And he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Course he is. Just doesn’t know it yet. You want some unbiased advice?”
Jake shrugged. “Why not?”
“You affected Emmett in ways he didn’t expect. That’s why he ran out of here like he did. If he were blowing you off, he’d keep his cool.”
“You don’t understand.” Tears stung his eyes, and he tried to blink them back. “I’ve been in love with him for three years. Just two weeks ago I found out that not only is he bi, he’s attracted to me. I can’t afford to believe there’s a chance for us. Emmett keeps saying we can’t be together. I have to take him at his word, because I can’t handle being rejected again.”
His breaths were uneven. He tried to hold it together, but he was teetering on the edge of control. That third drink was a bad idea.
“I gotta get out of here,” he said. “Get some fresh air, walk back to campus.”
“You’re not in any shape to walk that far,” Garon said. “I’ll call Waseem.”
***
Waseem entered, standing just inside the doorway wearing tight jeans and a polo shirt that showed off his muscled forearms. Jake scowled. That couldn’t be what Waseem had been wearing when Garon called, because that wasn’t Waseem’s style. He was dressed like he was looking for a date. So if he was here to drive Jake home…
Then Amber came in behind him, smokin’ hot in a yellow floral dress. Which was her style, even for just hanging out, so Jake hoped at least one of them was planning to get him back to campus before he started puking. After a tall glass of water, the pounding in his head had stopped and the ground felt more solid. But his stomach could go either way.
Waseem spotted them and headed for Garon, giving Jake a brief upward nod. Amber pulled up a chair next to Jake and took his hands. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live.”
She rolled her eyes. “Give me your keys. Waseem figured that if you’re going to throw up, it should be in your own car instead of his.”
“You’re driving me?”
She leaned in and said, “Waseem wanted to see Garon again. Now I understand why.”
Jake smiled. Garon wasn’t his type, not as bulky as Jake liked, but he understood why Waseem was interested. Garon was broad in the chest with a narrow waist and hips, and a tight, perfectly rounded ass. Plus, the guy seemed nice, so why not?
Jake thanked Garon for helping him out, giving a wave to Waseem before he and Amber headed for the car.
The campus was about a mile away along the main drag that ran parallel to the beach. Amber usually sped up to make the lights—and there was one at every corner so the beachgoers could cross safely—but tonight she was taking it nice and smooth. Apparently she was worried any bump or sudden movement could make Jake hurl.
The nausea was subsiding, though. Now that he wasn’t preoccupied with keeping down the contents of his stomach, a tightness grew in his chest as he considered the possible explanations for his drinking too fast that night. Amber knew that wasn’t like him.
He couldn’t tell her about Emmett, but Jake wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t mention Emmett’s name, since it wasn’t Jake’s place to out him. But Amber was his friend, and if she asked, Jake would be as honest with her as he could.
Back on campus, she walked with him to his room and sat on the desk chair while he collapsed onto the bed. “I’m okay,” he said. “You don’t have to stay.”
“We need to talk.”
“I don’t need a lecture—”
“I know about you and Emmett.”
Jake bolted upright, then grasped the edge of the mattress to still the spinning in his head. Okay, so he wasn’t a hundred percent recovered yet. But shit, what did Amber know? And who had told her?
“Don’t look so scared,” she said. “This isn’t gossip. Emmett told me himself.”
Jake scowled at that. Why would Emmett confide in Amber? Why would he even need to? He’d said on three separate occasions that he didn’t want a relationship with Jake because it could get in the way of a football career. And come to think of it, fuck him for that.
“I found him this afternoon,” she continued, “sitting on the stairs about ten steps from your room, wearing the saddest expression on his face. His whole body looked lost and dejected. Emmett never looks like that.”
Hope floated in his chest, but quickly sank. Emmett had never been one to let feelings get in his way once his mind was made up.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. What was the point? Jake was just some guy Emmett was horny for. If he legit cared, he’d think Jake was worth taking a risk for.
“You went out tonight to get drunk and get laid, because you were upset over Emmett. Now, I know I don’t have to tell you what a bad idea drunken sex with a stranger is.”
“But you coming on to Emmett when you’re drunk is okay.” Jake felt a twinge of guilt as soon as he said it. It was childish to lash out at Amber, but he was drunk and pissed and hurt. Even though that was no excuse, he didn’t have the capacity at the moment to rise above it.
She pressed her lips together. “I admit that wasn’t my finest hour. But Emmett isn’t a stranger. He wouldn’t have taken advantage of me, and he would have been safe.”
Jake lay back down and stared at the ceiling. What Garon had said�
��was it possible? Was Emmett just confused because he hadn’t been with a man before?
Was that why he kept pulling away?
No, Jake wasn’t going there. He wouldn’t get his hopes up just so Emmett could crush them again. And why did he even care about Emmett anymore, after the way the guy had jerked him around?
His body heated as memories of that kiss teased his mind. The taste of Emmett, the hardness of his body…how was Jake supposed to forget that? He wanted Emmett, and not just physically. He wanted to break through his exterior and get to the real man beneath. But Emmett wouldn’t let himself be vulnerable that way, so Jake was just wasting his time.
“Have you ever known Emmett to date anyone? A man, I mean?” he asked Amber.
“You mean, like, did I notice him hanging out with a guy, even though I never suspected they were dating?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Not that I can remember,” she said. “Emmett’s always been pretty serious about his studies. He doesn’t socialize a lot.”
The modulation in Amber’s voice made Jake sit up. Her soft, teasing expression had been replaced by downturned lips and a faraway gaze. Amber’s feelings for Emmett were probably just as strong as Jake’s, so he needed to tread lightly. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk to you about this—”
“I’m the one who brought up the subject, and I did it for a reason. Emmett seems confident on the outside—and I think he is about most things—but he isn’t good at emotions. You’re a sensitive guy, so it’s up to you to help him work through this. I know putting yourself out there isn’t your style, but if you want this, you need to go for it.”
“I’m not going to beg. He’s rejected me three times already.”
“He’s got feelings for you. Isn’t he worth taking a chance on?”
Before he could say no, tension built in his jaw. That was exactly why he was pissed at Emmett—for not taking a chance on him. But if the guy was questioning, he needed compassion, not Jake’s anger.
Still, Jake’s heart was involved. Maybe he could be a friend to Emmett about this, help him through his confusion. But no touching. He wasn’t going down that road again.
Chapter 7
Emmett walked to the frat house Wednesday evening. The October night was cool and dark, crisp points of starlight dotting the sky. A light breeze touched his skin, and he pulled his jacket closer.
Football practice had gone fine, but not well enough to fill him with confidence about Saturday’s game. To be honest, he wasn’t feeling it like he usually did. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jake. It hurt like being sacked by an oversized defensive end.
But too much was at stake. He had to forget Jake and move on.
A shadow lurked under a tree across from the frat’s wide, empty porch. Emmett slowed. It was probably nothing, but he wasn’t taking chances. Sometimes guys got drunk and did stupid shit, or rejected pledges pulled a prank that got out of hand. It just seemed weird that a guy would be hanging out in the dark like that. If he was waiting for someone, why not go to the front door?
Emmett texted Demonté, who agreed to watch from inside and bring backup if needed. He knew Demonté would give him shit if it was nothing, but Emmett wouldn’t get caught without a plan.
Adrenaline pulsing and muscles braced, he slinked closer. The guy’s build was visible but not his face. He wasn’t a big guy, probably not a threat unless he was high or had a weapon. Emmett didn’t let his guard down, though.
The guy stiffened, apparently catching sight of him. Emmett was almost close enough to catch his face when the guy turned. For a split second, though, in the glint of the porch light, his face was visible.
Jake?
But now the guy was walking away from him at a pretty brisk pace, and Emmett jogged to catch up. “Jake, what the hell?”
That stopped him, and he turned around. He didn’t make eye contact though, just stared at the sky.
“Hold on,” Emmett said, and texted Demonté to stand down. Then he pocketed his phone and looked back at Jake, who was kicking up dirt under a longleaf pine. “Why did you walk away like that?”
“Because I realized it was pointless.”
“What’s pointless?”
“If you wanted anything from me, you’d tell me. Because you’ve been good at telling me what you don’t want.”
Emmett nodded, not agreeing, but understanding where Jake was coming from. Emmett had been a prick—he was surprised Jake was even talking to him—and it was no wonder Jake was confused. Hell, Emmett wasn’t sure himself what he wanted. Only that his gut tensed and his heart grew heavy knowing that Jake was hurting because of him.
He reached out and brushed Jake’s hand, but Jake pulled back. “Don’t.”
“Sorry, you’re right,” Emmett said. “Touching you is a bad idea, because I can’t think when I do that.”
“I can’t think when you do that, either.” In the yellow lamplight, Jake’s lips quirked upward. Emmett’s stomach tumbled, and he fought the urge to kiss him.
“Whatever you’re going through,” Jake said, “I want to help. But we need to keep our distance. I care too much. You can’t keep jerking me around like this.”
“I don’t mean to. These feelings are new to me. I’ve never been attracted to…”
Jake stepped closer and said in a low voice, “You want to go inside?”
Emmett shuddered with desire at those words. Because now an image filled his head of himself inside Jake—that firm body underneath him writhing with pleasure as Emmett rammed into him. But that wasn’t what Jake meant, and Emmett had to keep his cool this time. Jake had taken a chance coming to the frat. It was no wonder he’d had second thoughts about going through with it. Emmett owed him an explanation.
Emmett ran a hand over his head. “Yeah, we can’t talk here.”
Once inside, he ignored Demonté’s curious smirk and walked briskly, leading Jake up to his room. It was larger than most, since he was a senior and a person of some clout. The full-sized bed had never felt as significant as it did to him at that moment.
He wanted Jake in that bed, hands exploring every inch of him. Ever since those feelings started, his thoughts had been dominated by fevered images of their nude bodies, kissing and touching each other.
But this conversation wasn’t about that. He swallowed the knot in his throat. His mind swam and he was unsteady on his feet.
He sat on the bed and motioned Jake toward the chair. Jake complied easily. A soft tug on his heart warmed Emmett’s chest. Everything with Jake was easy. The guy never gave him shit, never swaggered or postured. He was just a nice guy, confident enough in himself that he didn’t have to compete with anyone else.
Emmett wanted that in his life, someone he could be himself with. The closest he’d gotten was Waseem, but that guy could be an ass sometimes. Jake was warm and kind, unassuming. That was the expression Jake wore at that moment. Like he just wanted to be there for Emmett. Literally, just be there, sharing his space with no expectations, just support. And damn if Emmett didn’t need that in his life.
“You know I used to be a peer counselor at the LGBT center,” Jake said.
Emmett had forgotten that. “Yeah.” It felt better thinking about Jake that way, knowing he’d heard all kinds of stories, and maybe Emmett’s wasn’t that unusual.
“You said this is new to you. I’m guessing you haven’t had much experience with men.”
“Yeah, like, none. I didn’t know I was bi until I kissed you.” His face heated when he said it.
Jake pulled the chair closer. “You okay?”
Emmett was the farthest thing from okay, but how to say that? He wasn’t sure what he was, other than a jumbled mess. “After Tawna and I broke up, I was prepared to stay single until graduation. I certainly wasn’t expecting this. How do I fit a boyfriend into my life? School is hard for me, Jake. I don’t talk much about that. I get good grades, but that’s because I work for it. I’m not naturally smart,
like you are.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jake said. “Not the part about working hard. Maybe academics don’t come easily to you, but you’re one of the smartest people I know. Waseem talks all the time about how brilliant you are on the football field. You’re a cerebral player, he says. Faking out the other team, coming up with new strategies on the fly. You’re not just physically strong. You have what it takes mentally to play pro ball. So don’t tell me you’re not smart, Emmett. I won’t listen to that.”
His words brought tears to Emmett’s eyes, which was ridiculous. But Emmett’s throat was so tight he had to force a breath through. No one had ever been this kind to him, except maybe his dad. His mom was a hard ass. She’d do anything for him, but she never gave him a break—always expected excellence. And he was grateful for that. She’d made him the man he was: one who could take on challenges and overcome them through discipline and hard work. But Jake made Emmett want to forget about that person for a while, made him feel like it was okay to forget. He could just be. Jake didn’t expect anything from Emmett. Just wanted him to be happy.
Emmett didn’t know how it happened, but he was sobbing and Jake’s arms were around him. Jake was making sweet little shushing sounds in his ear, and damn it, that was making Emmett hard. But he wouldn’t kiss Jake, wouldn’t take advantage of Jake’s friendship that way—
Except now Jake was nuzzling him and kissing his neck, and Emmett was about to lose his damn mind. Who would have thought sweet little kisses like that would turn his cock into an inferno? Jake was taking the lead, lowering them onto the bed, kicking off his own shoes and pulling Emmett’s off, too. And then he was on top of Emmett, mouths pressed together, hungrily tasting each other.
Emmett was done fighting. Whatever the consequences, he needed this. Needed Jake’s touch and his tenderness. Ever since that first kiss, he had been craving this from Jake, so he let his muscles relax and just enjoyed the care Jake offered.
Jake pulled off his own shirt, then Emmett’s. “If things get to be too much, you tell me, okay?”