Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“I’m, uh…” he started, and then for the first time ever, I watched as Kace didn’t seem to know what to say next.
“You know, when I said you’d be a wild story one day, I meant that in a good way, right?” I clarified. “The best way. Being with you is the hottest fucking thing—”
“Hey. Nathan. It’s cool,” Kace said, his expression softening a little. He put a hand on my shoulder, patting me gently. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’d only really wanted to talk, anyway. Get to know you better.”
I hated it. I didn’t want the polite, friendly pat on the back. I didn’t want to be told everything was fine.
I wanted to be right there with him. For fuck’s sake, at this point, I felt like my body needed him.
I let out a breath. “Fuck, your generation is confusing sometimes.”
He puffed out a feeble laugh. “We think with our dicks just as much as your generation did. As much as your generation still does, apparently. Right?”
He was trying to play it off, but I still knew something was wrong. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was my fault.
Before I knew it, Kace was already on the phone with his driver. And then just a couple of minutes later, the car was outside the house, and I was caught feeling like I’d lost something, back there on the couch with Kace.
As I left, Kace gave me a little pinch on the hip, and a friendly wink.
That wasn’t what I wanted, either. I wanted a kiss. That impossible closeness. That feeling that he was right there with me.
“Catch you in a few days,” he said, and I knew I wouldn’t see him until his training session had ended.
On the drive back, I sat in the back of the fancy black car and pulled out my phone, thumbing over to Instagram to fill some emptiness. I saw that Kace had just posted a slide on his stories a minute ago, an invitation for his fans.
Ask me anything! He’d written it above a little box where fans could type a short question.
I thought of everything I wanted to ask.
What the hell did I do wrong?
Did I hurt you, Kace?
Can we please start over?
More than anything, I just wanted to know if he was okay.
Once I was back in my own car, the drive back home was short and dark. But it only took about five minutes for me to realize with a deep, unsettling certainty that Kace had gotten under my skin.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
And the last thing in the world that I needed was to realize that I was falling for him. A not-so-straight guy, a fucking completely confused guy, falling for the world’s most famous, most unattainable gay playboy, right after he’d pushed me away.
16
KACE
“You better watch, Tomlin!” Marcus shouted at me from above. My back was pressed against the warm grass in the sun, and radiant heat was beating down on me through my uniform.
He’d just gotten me down onto the ground for the second time that day. I hadn’t been playing my best, and I knew it.
“You do that during a game and you’ll be off the field faster than you can fucking blink,” I yelled back up at him.
Marcus reached a hand down, hoisting me back upward. I hunched over as I stood up, sucking in gulps of air as I caught my breath. My stomach turned and sweat fell in rivulets down my arms.
“That’s what training is for,” he said, clapping my back with an open hand.
I squinted into the sun, my lungs burning. “I think I’m out for the afternoon.”
“Hell fucking no, Tomlin,” he said. “We go again.”
I bent over, resting my palms on my knees. “High knees. That’s all I can do.”
“Fine,” he said. “You’ve got to keep that ass fit and tight for all your fans, anyway, don’t you?”
I jogged back to the edge of the field with him and we ran high-knees drills a few times back and forth until I finally tapped out. Training would be over within an hour anyway, but I saw Coach giving me a sidelong glance as I slunk off the field a little early.
My chest tightened. I ignored his eyes on my back as I went into the locker room. I was usually Mr. Above-and-Beyond at all times. I could take one fucking moment to myself.
I stripped off the hot, constricting clothes and got under a shower, letting the water beat down on my skin.
Get it together, Tomlin. Even the fucking voice in my head wasn’t enough to get me back in line.
And at the dirty, rotten center of it all, I knew the reason I’d been so off my game for two days.
I had hurt Nathan the other night.
All I could picture was Nathan on his knees in front of me, licking lemonade from my skin. His gaze as he looked up at me, saying only one thing with his eyes: I’ll do anything for you. The kind of look that was exactly what I craved in every moment with him. That got me harder than a fucking rock but also crept into my mind and made itself at home there, because I’d let it. I had trusted him.