Trick Play

by Eden Finley

  “What are you doing in the tabloids with that football player? Do you know how this looks? Break it off. Immediately.” And Mom’s would be “Why do you have to upset your father?”

  When I see there’s five text messages from Aron, my stomach rolls. I don’t know if I can deal with him yet, although I thought this reaction might’ve been coming. Maybe I should’ve warned him, but I haven’t spoken to him for a month, so I thought it’d be too weird to message him and be all “Heads-up, I’m dating Matt Jackson now, so I’m going to be everywhere for a while.”

  Aron and I went through all of college and three years of friendship without hooking up. For some reason, this past year, we thought it was a good idea to start sleeping together. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, because while I like the guy, I knew I would never fall for him. I was clear from the beginning it was going to be casual, and he agreed at first. Then a few months ago, he wanted the real deal, so I broke it off, but he’d still come back for more and promise he could keep it casual. I’m an idiot for going there in the first place. Fuck buddies never work. Someone always gets hurt in the end, and part of me wishes it was me this time, because besides Damon, Aron’s the closest thing I have to a real friend. Or, at least he was until I screwed it up.

  I bypass the messages from Aron and check the one from Damon which was sent two hours ago. It says Matt and I have dinner reservations at one of the fancy-ass restaurants onboard, so I dress in a gray Gucci suit and wait for Matt.

  Another two hours pass before he enters the room, drenched in sweat.

  “Seriously?” I say. “Four hours of training?”

  “You think I have these muscles from sitting on my ass?” He takes his shirt off and points to his abs, and my breath catches in my throat. “It’s my job to stay fit.”

  Taut muscles and tattoos. All the things on a guy that moms don’t want their kids to bring home for family dinners. My eyes lock on his shoulder tatt and its intricate design that makes his biceps look even more impressive.

  Matt heads for the bathroom and breaks my gaze away.

  “Good luck in there. If I struggled to fit in the shower, you have no hope. Also, we have dinner reservations in fifteen minutes, so you have to hurry up.”

  I get a grunt in response.

  It’s official. I’m dating a caveman. Fake dating, but still.

  If only he talked like a caveman and produced a few syllables all the time, I might actually like the guy. I thought I was capable of being an asshole, but Matt has that act down in spades.

  Chapter Three

  Matt

  Noah reaches for my hand on top of the candlelit table. My back stiffens and the urge to pull away is too much. As casually as I can, I slide my hand from beneath his and put it in my lap.

  “Okay, what’s up with that?” Noah asks.

  “What’s up with what?”

  He glances around the restaurant. We’re one of only a few couples in here, and I assume it’s because it’s one of the restaurants you have to pay extra for.

  Moving closer, Noah speaks low. “Is it a PDA thing? Because I’m pretty sure the whole point of us being here is to show off how much we’re in love, and that’s not going to happen if these people see you pull away from me. We’ll need to work out a way we can look like we’re in love that doesn’t interfere with whatever weird touching thing you’re against.”

  “I’m not against PDA,” I snap. “I’m just … not used to it.” The only time I allowed myself to touch another man was in those clubs—when I pretended I was someone else.

  Noah leans back in his seat. “How many people knew you were gay before the tabloids outed you?”

  I breathe in deep and reach for the glass of wine Noah ordered as soon as we walked into this stupid restaurant.

  “Matt …”

  “None, okay.”

  “None? But you hooked up with Maddox in college.”

  I shrug. “Doesn’t mean I told him I was gay. We had a mutual understanding that it was fooling around. We both claimed to be straight even when we were … doing not so straight things.”

  Noah smiles. “You’re trying really hard to be vague right now, aren’t you?”

  I lean in. “I’m scared if I talk about Maddox too loudly it’ll somehow magically summon Damon and he’ll kick my ass for even remembering I’ve seen Maddox naked.”

  Noah lifts his hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s pause there for a second. You made a joke? An honest to God joke?”

  I take a deep breath. “Contrary to my behavior today, I’m not an asshole all the time. This”—I wave my hand between us—“this whole thing stresses me out. I don’t know how to be a couple in public because I’ve never been a couple in public. I’ve never been a couple, period.”

  “Never?”

  “I couldn’t afford for it to get out. I didn’t want to force someone to live in the closet for God knew how long, and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to keep my secret.”

  “How’d that work out for ya?” Noah gestures to where we are and why we’re here.

  “Turns out anonymous hookups in clubs aren’t so trustworthy either.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “You try being celibate and see how long you last before you’re scoping for BJs in a seedy nightclub.”

  “Thanks to you, I guess I’m going to be celibate for however long you need me to be your boyfriend.”

  I hadn’t even thought of that. Since the scandal, I’ve had no desire to get back out there again, but it didn’t occur to me that Noah offering to do this means he’s been put in the exact same situation I’m in.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Noah smiles. “This just became my favorite place on the ship. A joke and an apology within minutes of each other? Is this place magical?”

  I sigh. Loudly.

  “Oh wait, he’s back. Never mind.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you get your ass kicked a lot?”

  Noah smirks. “If my big, bad daddy didn’t have a list of lawyers longer than the Kardashian’s family tree, I’m sure I would’ve been beaten up a lot more.”

  “Look, I know I’ve been an ass, and I want to thank you for what you did today—getting me out of the parking lot and away from the reporters as fast as you could. I’ll try not to be ornery, but—”

  “You’re going through a lot. Don’t worry about me having to be celibate or needing to sell this lie. I knew what I signed up for.”

  “Why did you agree to this?”

  Noah’s excuse that he’s doing it for Damon doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.

  “I have my reasons just like you do.” Noah sips his wine before adding, “I did think you’d be more thankful, though.”

  “I am. Thankful, I mean. I may not understand how this is going to work or how it’ll help me get a contract, but Maddox says I can trust Damon, so I’m going with it. I don’t mean to be an ass, but I’m gambling my entire livelihood on this working.”

  Noah nods. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

  Now that we’re in the middle of the ocean and away from stupid photographers, it’s the first time I’ve been able to breathe since my news broke.

  “So, truce?” I ask. “Can we start this thing over again?”

  He stares at me without answering a little too long, and it makes me shift in my seat. Noah holds up his glass of wine for a toast. “Truce.”

  The truce lasts all of dinner before everything goes to shit. As soon as we get back to the room, Noah hands me a beer from the minibar, and I start to go out onto the small balcony, but Noah pulls me back.

  “Maybe we should talk in here. I was out there earlier, and I could hear people talking a few cabins down.”

  With a nod, I plant my ass on the small sofa in the room, and then Noah takes the seat next to me.

  The sound of water crashing over the bow still reaches the room from the black abyss that is the Atlantic Ocean. It’s peaceful until Noah opens
his mouth again.

  “We should make out.”

  I choke and splutter on my beer. “Why in the hell should we do that?”

  “I’m not hitting on you, you jackass.”

  “Pretty sure askin’ me to kiss you contradicts that statement.”

  “Hear me out. You’re uncomfortable in public, and we don’t know each other. The way to make it look natural is if we are natural. Therefore, if we make out, you’ll loosen up.”

  I hate that he has a point, but we can’t cross those lines. “We should make this a purely platonic arrangement so there’s no confusion.”

  “There will be no confusion on my part. I understand why you’d be hesitant, because, well, look at me. You’re worried about liking it too much.” Noah gestures to himself, and I force myself not to look.

  “Yeah, you’re lucky I haven’t jumped you already.” Even though he does have a great body. Damn him.

  “I could goad you into doing it, but I don’t think I have to. You know this is a good idea.”

  “It’s really not.”

  “Scared you’re going to fall for me?” he taunts. “All the boys do.”

  “Fall for your wallet, maybe,” I mumble.

  His eyes turn a stormy gray as they narrow, and if looks could kill—

  “Fall for you after one kiss?” I scoff. “Not possible.” It’s not possible after multiple kisses. I reckon I’m incapable of love, because I don’t know what the fuck it is.

  Noah moves closer.

  “Noah …” I shift on the seat.

  “You’re way too uptight. I promise I’m not trying to fuck you. Although, that could definitely be fun.”

  A tentative hand skims up my side and around my back.

  My body freezes, and if Noah thought I was uptight thirty seconds ago, it’s nothing compared to how tense I am right now.

  “We have a photoshoot in two days.” His breath tickles my cheek. “You’re going to have to be relaxed and pretend that you like me.”

  “So, we can do this then.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “I don’t understand the point of it now.”

  “You look about as comfortable as I did when my housekeeper walked in on me balls deep inside my boyfriend senior year of high school. That was a fun way to come out to the parents.”

  “You … wha … how?”

  If he said that as a distraction, it’s working.

  “Breathe,” Noah says. “And just let me kiss you.”

  This is a stupid idea. Really stupid. Even so, there’s a part of me that not only wants it but hopes he has a point, because there’s no way I can pretend to be in love with a guy I don’t know and am nervous around.

  “Fine.” I lean forward and put my beer on the coffee table in front of us.

  He stares at me dumbfounded, as if he wasn’t expecting me to give in. Maybe this is a game to him. If it is, he’s winning.

  That doesn’t stop either of us from moving closer to one another.

  My lips inch toward his but before I kiss him, I add in a low voice, “This is an experiment only. A one-time thing.”

  “Matt—”

  “This isn’t going to work, and when it doesn’t, I will gladly rub it in your face every day we have to play this stupid charade.”

  Noah laughs, as if he knows I’m trying to convince myself and not him, but I cut him off with my lips on his. Unlike earlier today where I didn’t react—didn’t do anything—this time, I take charge. My tongue pushes past his lips, and I refuse to let out the groan that tries to escape when it meets his. Two seconds into the kiss, I know this is a huge mistake.

  I ignore the tightening in my pants and the shiver that runs through me as his hands trail down my spine. Then, suddenly, I’m on my back as he pins me to the sofa that’s way too small to fit both of us.

  That doesn’t stop us, though.

  His cock lines up with mine, and even through two layers of suit pants, I know he’s long and thick.

  Shit, don’t think about his dick.

  Noah’s lips break away from mine and skim my bearded cheek. “Thought you said you weren’t going to enjoy this,” he says in my ear.

  “I’m not.” Hmm, probably would’ve been more convincing if my voice didn’t crack like a twelve-year-old seeing his first dirty magazine … or in my case a football magazine. Boys in tight pants and pads? It’s no wonder I loved the sport when Dad first forced me to play.

  Noah rotates his hips slowly, grinding his hard body against my even harder cock. “Pretty sure this says otherwise.”

  “I’m a gay man with a hot guy’s tongue down my throat. It’s simple chemistry. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “You’re wrong. This is anything but simple.” Noah’s mouth comes back down on mine again, and this time, I can’t hold back the moan.

  I’m no longer on the ship. I’ve fallen overboard and am drowning in Noah, and I don’t want to come up for air.

  “Matt,” he murmurs against my mouth, and his voice may as well have been a bucket of ice.

  I push him off me and sit up, straightening my shirt in the process. “See. Didn’t work.”

  I reach for my beer to wash the taste of Noah down.

  He wipes his mouth and breaks into a cocky-ass smile. “So, you felt nothing, huh?”

  “Right.” More beer goes down my throat.

  “Keep telling yourself that.” He stands and makes his way out on to the balcony. I’m left with uncomfortably tight pants and more confusion than following a trick play on the field.

  I’ve never been kissed like that before. Ever. Not that I have a long list of guys I’ve kissed. A lot of hookups were quick BJs and not much else. I didn’t even exchange names with most of them let alone saliva.

  Noah kisses like he lives—with assured confidence. He tastes like money and privilege. Somehow.

  I have no right to judge him for being rich. Hell, he’s probably not that much richer than I am. The thing is, I know what it’s like to be poor, but Noah’s sheltered life means he knows nothing about the real world and struggling.

  I need to keep my head on straight. I can’t start getting distracted by Noah purely for the fact he can kiss and has a big dick.

  But it felt good being that close to him. Then again, it’d probably feel good to be close to anyone right now.

  I don’t want to admit to myself what I’ve been trying to deny for four years—ever since being drafted to the NFL. I’m so tired of being alone.

  Chapter Four

  Noah

  I’m pretty sure there’s something fundamentally wrong with me. On what planet was it a good idea to make out with Matt?

  I expected it to be like this afternoon—like kissing a dead fish. I never expected to like it.

  Hey, hot asshole guy, stick your tongue in my mouth because it’ll make us more comfortable.

  Matt’s right. I’m an idiot. Wait … I don’t think he’s called me that. At least, not to my face. But it’s true.

  Always thinking with my dick, even when I don’t mean to. I honestly thought kissing would take away that tension and awkwardness between us. I was wrong. So very wrong. Because now all I want to do is do it again. And again. And then maybe head south.

  Stop. It.

  When I’ve calmed down enough to go back inside, I flop down on the bed—the only bed in our room—and cover my eyes with my arm. Didn’t think of the sleeping arrangement until now.

  We have to have a shared bed or the housekeeping staff could leak that we were sleeping in separate rooms, letting the world know our whole relationship is a sham. The bed’s not exactly wide, and when Matt’s as tall and wide as he is, it’s going to be a tight fit.

  “I’m heading back to the gym,” Matt says and starts rummaging through his clothes.

  “Again?”

  “Running clears my head.”

  “Thought there’d be nothing to clear seeing as the kiss didn’t do anything for you?” I’m proud normal Noah comes o
ut and I can act like that kiss didn’t rattle me. “I’d join you, but my legs are still jelly from this afternoon’s session.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Right. That’s why Damon hired me to watch over you and pretend to be your boyfriend. Yup.”

  Matt huffs and starts stripping.

  I suck in a breath and hold it, because I don’t think I can survive another viewing. The guy’s body is insane. Instead of ogling his tattoos this time, my eyes go to his strong muscles, thick and powerful thighs, and the large bulge in his boxer briefs.

  Instinctively, my tongue darts out.

  What have I started?

  Before I’m ready to stop looking at him, he’s dressed and heading for the door. “I’ll be back later.”

  My cock pulses as he disappears into the hallway. Good. I can take care of my predicament, hopefully pass out, and then forget my failed attempt at making our situation somewhat bearable. I don’t know why I thought my dick would be immune to him just because he’s surly. It basically doesn’t discriminate against anyone. Well, apart from women.

  I stare down at my cock. Still hard. Damn it. Usually thoughts of having sex with women makes it deflate pretty fast.

  With no other option, I go to the bathroom and jerk off. All it takes is thinking about Matt’s mouth, his thick beard, and that impressive cock that was pressed against me when we kissed. But coming only takes the edge off. One single thought of Matt’s tongue and I get hard again.

  A second time helps exhaust me but in no way satisfies my need. I fall into bed in my boxer briefs and beg for sleep to consume me.

  Unfortunately for me, Matt returns at that moment.

  “You weren’t gone for long,” I say.

  “Just needed a quick run.”

  I snigger. “I bet.”

  I refuse to look at him because of his sweaty abs, tight pecs … damn, jerking off twice wasn’t enough. The shower starts in the bathroom and the temptation to rub another one out is overwhelming, but having already come twice, I don’t think I’ll have time.