by Eden Finley
“Your aunt Cheri called while you were at the wedding,” Maddox’s mom says.
“How is crazy Aunt Cheri?” Maddox asks and then turns to me. “She’s seriously a nut. You know how people say they’re gonna run off and join the circus? Mom’s sister did it.”
“She does not travel with a circus,” Alana says, her tone exasperated. “She’s a psychic. She travels with others and does astrology readings and all that stuff.”
“Exactly. Circus,” Maddox says. “She dresses like a hippie and calls herself a free spirit.”
“You might not believe in all that mumbo jumbo, but how do you explain the fact she hasn’t called in months and calls tonight looking for you?” The light flickering across Alana’s face from the fire makes her look smug.
Maddox rolls his eyes. “Coincidence. Why was she looking for me?”
“She’s coming into town next month and she wants to see you. Talk to you about … some things.”
Maddox is too busy looking at his mom to notice his dad tense beside her. Guess he’s not a fan of his crazy sister-in-law.
“What things?” Maddox asks.
“I don’t know, Maddy, why don’t you come home and ask her yourself next month?”
He leans forward. “Can’t she come to New York?”
“Is it really that hard to come home again?” Alana’s words hold mother’s guilt—something my own mother has perfected over the years. A woman’s brain must change after giving birth, or their guilt gene kicks in, because mothers have it down to an art.
My mom pulled the guilt card last year when I ditched Stacy’s graduation ceremony to hang out with Eric. She didn’t understand I was in a bad place with him because of stupid, stupid shit that wasn’t worth losing a twenty-year friendship over, but I couldn’t come out and tell her that’s why I skipped out. And to think, if I had gone to Stacy’s graduation, I would’ve met Maddox then. Would’ve been better than what I ended up doing that night.
“I’ll try.” Maddox sips his beer.
Mother’s guilt wins again.
“It’s a shame Tommy had a home game this weekend,” Alana says. “If he was away, Jacie and the kids could’ve come to see you. He’s gone so much during the season; they need family time when he’s home.”
“Tommy?” I ask. Boston player named Tommy … Holy fucking shit. “Your brother-in-law is Tomik ‘Tommy’ Novak? No fucking way.” My eyes widen. “Sorry for swearing, Mr. and Mrs. O’Shay, but that is seriously cool.”
“We’re fucking Irish, we don’t care about swearing,” Colin says.
“How did you not know about Tommy?” his mom asks.
Oops.
“I didn’t tell him,” Maddox says. “Maybe I didn’t want Damon to use me to get to Tommy.”
Yet, he offered him up anyway. My meeting is with Tommy Novak? There’s no way he’d dump his agent for a newbie like me …
I let out an exasperated grunt when I work it out. Maddox never told me who it was because he knew I wouldn’t have accepted the terms. Meeting with Tommy would be a complete waste of time at this stage of my career. When Maddox said high profile, I thought he was overselling and possibly knew someone on the farm team for Boston. I didn’t realize he was underselling. He should’ve said hockey god.
“Tommy-fucking-Novak,” I mumble. “He’s like the biggest player in the NHL this season. Superstar forward for Boston. Traded from New York a few years back. He’s scored more goals this year than any other player. He—”
Maddox puts his hand on mine to make me stop talking. “I get it. You’re a fan.” He leans in and whispers, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my side of the bargain.”
I slink back in my seat. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, hell yeah, I’d want to meet him, but there’s no way someone like Tommy will sign with a green agent like me.” I should be pissed, because this has been a waste of my time, but I’m not. Perhaps it’s because I actually like Maddox. Had I known him before all of this, I would’ve volunteered to come back with him without the incentive.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell him,” Alana says.
“I would have eventually,” Maddox says.
I shrug. “It’s not like it’s baseball. Had you been related to Zach Pritchett and not told me, I would’ve broken up with him.”
His mom eyes us warily, so I wrap my arm around Maddox and pull him closer. His breath hitches when my mouth lands near his ear. “Your mom’s suspicious,” I whisper as if I’m telling him sweet nothings. “Smile as if I’m being romantic.”
Instead, he laughs. With a quick kiss to his temple, I pull away but keep my arm around him. He tenses briefly when my lips land on him, but he relaxes again just as fast. Rubbing a soothing hand over his shoulder probably isn’t a good idea, so I keep as awkwardly still as possible.
His parents ask me question after question about my family, and they’re shocked when they find out I grew up in New York and I’m not a thug. Or that I’ve never been mugged. I have to bite back a laugh. There’s more small talk, but every time there’s a lull in conversation, his mom glances between the two of us again and her face takes on an analytical expression. She looks like me when I’m trying to do algebra. I’m all right with math until the alphabet gets involved.
The cold air gets colder somehow, and I move in closer to Maddox to block some of the breeze.
“I know what you’re doing, dickhead,” he mutters with a smile. “We should swap places. You’re wider than me.”
“Then I’ll be cold,” I complain.
“But I won’t be.”
Maddox’s dad gets out of his seat and throws another log on the fire. “That should be good for another two hours, boys. We’re heading to bed.”
“We are?” Alana asks. He walks over to her and offers his hand and then leads her toward the house. “Okay, I guess we are.”
“They’re so cute,” I say.
“If you say so. I’m worried about the glimmer in Dad’s eye.” Maddox shudders. “Parents aren’t supposed to get freaky. Especially when their son is visiting.” He shudders some more. “You, ah, can let go of me now. They’re gone.”
“But I’m not holding onto you for show. I’m freezing my nuts off.”
Maddox laughs. “We can go inside if you want.”
“Nah, if your parents are going at it, I don’t want to be hearing that.”
“Dude. No. I can’t un-see those thoughts.” He leans forward and hangs his head in his hands.
My arm drops, and I pull it under the blanket to keep it warm now it’s not being heated by Maddox’s body.
“About our deal …” I say. “As much as I’d love a chance at representing someone like Tommy-fucking-Novak—”
“He’s still a human being, you know.”
“Nah, he’s a hockey god. But it’s all good. You don’t have to introduce us. I’m officially taking back our deal.”
“Nope. Consider it done. It’s the least I can do after what I’ve put you through this weekend.” Maddox sits up straighter. “I guess now would be when to say—”
“If you apologize one more time, I may have to kick your ass. I’ve never been in a physical fight in my entire life—got into a few yelling matches with an umpire during a game—but I’ve got muscles. I’m sure they could do some damage.”
Maddox’s smile has a dimple appearing in his chiseled face. “I was going to say I should give you an explanation.”
“Not my place. You don’t owe me anything. We kissed. You liked it. Now you’re confused. It’s got nothing to do with me.” I don’t want to shut him out, but the needy side of me wants him to say he wants more, and I can’t be that guy. I don’t want to be Maddox’s sexual guinea pig, and I already have a tiny crush on the guy, so he needs to work this out on his own. Harsh, maybe, but I can’t go through this again.
“How do you know I liked it?” he asks defensively.
I cock my eyebrow at him, because we both know I felt how hard he was
when his tongue was in my mouth.
“Okay fine, I more than liked it. Which … okay … so … and—”
“You do know you’re not constructing a sentence right now? Scotch make speech good?”
“There’s no more scotch in me.” Maddox’s knee bounces. “I wish there was, because this is hard to say. The only person I ever told was Will.”
“Is that why he was scowling at me at the wedding?”
“Probably. He thinks I’m going to get all fucked up over you like I did with …” He draws in a deep breath. “Like I did with my roommate in college.”
My ears—and shamefully, my cock—prick up at that.
“You know how I said I had a thing for your sister freshman year?”
“Yeah …”
“One of the nights I struck out with her, I went back to the frat house and my roommate was asleep. Or, I thought he was. I …” He takes in another deep breath. “You know that unspoken rule where if your roommate’s jerking off, you pretend it’s not happening?”
My eyes narrow. “You were jerking off in your room, while your roommate was asleep but not?”
“Right. Anyway, he asked if I needed a hand, and—”
“Smooth.”
“I thought it was his way of being all ‘Stop whacking off, I’m awake over here.’ So I stopped. But it was his way of …”
“Actually asking if you wanted a hand?”
“Right. Well, a mouth.” Maddox shifts in his seat, and the light from the fire shows off his flushed cheeks. “At first, I was all ‘What the fuck, I’m not gay.’ And he said he wasn’t either. He said he and his high school buddy used to give each other brojobs all the time.”
“Brojobs,” I repeat like a moron. I hate that term—always have. “Okay, so your roommate gave you a blowjob?”
“Sort of, umm … yeah. Uh, multiple, actually. It kind of became a running joke between us that he’d only do it on weekends.”
“Did you … enjoy it?” Why am I asking that? It doesn’t matter whether he did or not. I shouldn’t care.
“The first few times I closed my eyes and pretended he was a chick. But, really, it was a wet, hot mouth on a horny eighteen-year-old’s cock. What do you think?”
I chuckle but it comes out as a harsh breath. “Right. Of course, what was I thinking? Maybe that straight guys generally don’t like gay guys manipulating them into fooling around, but whatever.”
Maddox’s brow furrows. “Matt’s not gay. It wasn’t like that. He gave me plenty of chances to say no and constantly asked if I was okay with it. There was no manipulation on his part. And I never touched him. I didn’t offer to return the favor, and he never asked.”
“Matt? Matty and Maddy? How cute.” Why am I getting defensive and tight-chested, and—oh, fuck no. I can’t be … jealous. I was literally just thinking I can’t be Maddox’s sexual experiment, and now I’m pissed he’s been with another guy before.
“Matt claims to be heteroflexible.”
I scoff. “Right. Only gay on weekends. Got it.”
“What’s with the pissed-off tone?” Now he’s getting defensive, but he’s right. I have to tone down the attitude.
I try to tame my irrational side and go for the coverup excuse. “First off, heteroflexible is a term someone uses when they don’t want to admit they’re bi. If you’re sexually attracted to both males and females, even if you’ll only have relationships with one gender, congratulations, you’re still bi. Pretty simple philosophy. But do you know a lot of straight guys who’ll willingly give blowjobs for nothing in return? Your man is gay.”
Maddox’s mouth drops open but nothing comes out.
“Sorry if that bursts some kind of bubble you were living in.”
“Well, fuck.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
MADDOX
Damon psychoanalyzed Matt in a few mere sentences and reached a conclusion that made so much more sense than what Will and I could figure out. That’s where I went wrong. I went to a straight dude for advice when it all happened.
The thing is, I’m downplaying what Matt and I had. The first few times, I did pretend he was a girl. Perhaps it was easier for me to handle that way. But then it started happening regularly, and I loved watching him as he went down on me. I loved gripping his short hair while I thrust into his mouth which was rough against my skin because of his stubble. And maybe, I chased after Stacy for longer than I would have any other girl because every time I was rejected, my consolation prize was a blowjob from my roommate. Part of me wonders if I was even trying with Stacy in the end.
I looked forward to my nights with Matt, but I never found it in me to take it further or ask him for more.
The closest I got was asking him to visit me in summer housing while I interned at a marketing firm over the break. He flat-out said no. Said we had fun, I was a great roommate, and he’d miss me the next year. It was like we broke up, even though we weren’t in a relationship. It was weird but not as confusing as the disappointment I had over him ending it.
Before I started my internship in the city, I went home for two nights and ended up spilling everything to Will.
A bottle of tequila later, we decided to test a theory. We went to a bar, and I watched every guy that entered. I wasn’t attracted to any of them. But every time I thought of Matt, my cock hardened in response.
Will, the rationalizing genius he is, came to the conclusion that it was something about my conscience not wanting to have been a complete jerk to Chastity and my explorations with a guy was my way of making my lie a half-truth. I thought that was bullshit, but it made for an excuse to dismiss the Matt situation. I chalked it up to college experimenting and let it go.
This weekend has brought it all back—how I wanted to ask Matt for more but didn’t have the courage. I want to ask Damon for more.
I didn’t think I’d be attracted to my fake boyfriend. I haven’t thought about Matt or another guy this way since junior year when he was drafted to the NFL.
“You okay?” Damon asks. “You’ve gone silent on me.”
“Just thinking,” I murmured.
“What happened with the roommate in the end?”
“Sophomore year, he moved out of the frat house and into the dorms, so I barely saw him. He was around campus occasionally, but we weren’t friends. I was half-convinced he hid from me for a year.”
“Wait, he was in a frat? That’d be enough for any guy to stay closeted. I had a hard enough time coming out to my teammates. They ended up being cool with it, but I wouldn’t have liked to have thrown in a frat on top of that.”
“My point in telling you all this is I put it down to experimenting, because since then, I haven’t been attracted to another guy.” I suck in a sharp breath. “Until you.”
Damon stares at me, his green eyes seeing through me, and that vulnerability I have around him seeps back in. “So, you’re bi.”
I pull back. “Huh?”
“Did you not hear my defining criteria? Attracted to both male and females. And I’m pretty sure I’m still a guy. I can go check in case it’s changed in the last few hours, but—”
I shove him. “Shut up. I’ve been attracted to two guys but countless women, so—”
“It’s not a fifty-fifty thing. I know a heap of people who have mostly hetero relationships but identify as bi. For some, it’s easy to meet others of the opposite sex. A friend from college only hooks up with men because he says it’s easier than having to woo a woman. Those are his words, by the way, not mine. I have no idea what it would take to get a woman into bed. I’ve never tried.”
I purse my lips. “Okay, so I’m bi.” It doesn’t sound right on my tongue. “But I’ve kissed one guy and gotten blowjobs from another. I kinda feel unqualified for the label.”
“What are straight people labeled as if they’ve never kissed another person? They’re still straight.”
I’ve never thought about it that way. “Interesting.”
D
amon continues to study me, as if waiting for me to break down over it. “You okay?”
I have to think about it, because I don’t think it’s sunk in. Am I supposed to feel different?
“I think so. But I want to kiss you again.” I hold my breath. When he doesn’t reply immediately, I joke, “You know … for scientific purposes.”
Damon breaks his gaze and stares at the fire. That can’t be good. “Sorry, man. Don’t think that’s gonna happen.”
“Why not?” I frown.
“Not into being used as an experimental thing. Been there, done that, have the broken heart to show for it. Not to get all emo on you or anything.”
“It’s not entirely about experimenting—I … I think I actually like you.” God, I sound twelve years old. “But it’s cool. I’m used to being rejected by you Kings.” I smile to cover my slightly dented ego.
Damon winces. “Can you please stop bringing up your crush on my sister? It weirds me out that the guy I kissed a few hours ago had a thing for her. I don’t share guys with Stacy. When I came out, she was worried I’d cut in on her action. I tried to explain to her that wouldn’t happen because, generally, guys who are interested in me wouldn’t be interested in her, but you’ve proved me wrong. So, thanks for that. No way in hell am I going to tell her she was right.”
I can’t hold in my laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve gone further with you than I ever did with her.”
“No. It really doesn’t.”
“You wanna tell me about the guy?”
“Nope.”
“Come on. I’m sitting over here going through an existential crisis—”
Damon snorts. “Yeah, you seem to be really suffering. You’re taking this whole thing better than I did when I first admitted to myself I liked guys. And that’s saying something, because I always knew—on some level.”
I shrug. “I guess I’m not all that shocked. I dunno, it makes … sense. The label doesn’t feel right, but the definition of it does. It certainly explains some shit I’ve been confused about since college. But I’ve shared, and now it’s your turn. Don’t make me feel like a loser on my own.”