And when he’d pleaded with me to touch him, damn. I would’ve jumped into a pit of fire for him right then. The draw to be near him was that overwhelming. Not to mention, he’d sounded so wrecked about his dad, and that about did me in as well.
There were more layers to Maclain than I’d ever imagined, but the juxtaposition of the different sides of him was enough to cause whiplash. He could be so vulnerable one minute, then shut me down with one look the next.
Once we got through security, the team headed to the boarding area and spread out in several rows of seats to wait. Since the games didn’t count toward our overall record, this trip already felt more relaxed. The coaches still expected us to play hard and win, of course, but there was a different, more spirited energy in the air.
I had a clear view of Maclain sitting across the way against the windows, so I lifted my phone and scrolled to his name to mess with him.
You’ve crashed on me twice already. So I’m two for two. I’m obviously good at wearing you out. Will you be able to stay awake this week?
I watched as he lifted his phone and stiffened briefly upon reading my text. Then he shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
I don’t know, you cocky mofo. Does this mean you’ll stop bothering me?
Oh, I see…so it’s me bothering you? If I remember correctly, you texted me last.
To ask about our seats on the plane.
You were obviously disappointed that we’re not sitting together.
His smile grew a bit wider as he typed.
Please, it’s enough having to room with you.
We made eye contact across the space, and I could see the wariness just under the surface. I certainly didn’t want any tension between us—outside the usual, that is.
I know you’re still afraid.
He frowned, and I was starting to regret ruining the mood, when he texted back: How are you not?
I definitely am. But I’m also curious and trying to figure shit out about myself. Besides, we won’t be around these guys much longer.
His eyebrows knitted together in what looked like frustration.
Still have to get through our schedule. What if they give us hell? Or rumors spread around campus? Plus, my stepdad wouldn’t take it well, and what if your parents don’t either?
All valid points. So maybe we just keep talking it through, like this. Check in with each other.
He offered a slight nod of agreement.
Besides, the stuff that went down last week? It’s hard to get out of my head.
I watched as he took a deep breath, then quickly typed a response.
Yeah, me too.
My chest tightened. Holy shit.
So you finally admit it!
Ass.
You do have a nice one.
Fucking hell. Stop it.
When he shifted in his seat and dipped his head, I chuckled a little, wanting to tease him some more. But I didn’t want to draw too much attention.
I waited as his fingers tapped his cell again.
Don’t make fun, but I’m scared about that part too.
Fucking Maclain. My fingers trembled a little as I typed: I’m scared too. I would never make fun. Not like I’m well versed in any of this stuff.
I wouldn’t tell him that I’d pulled up gay porn on my laptop a few days ago and had gotten an eyeful. Maclain might not be up for exploring anything more, but it had helped satisfy my curiosity, at least in part. I realized that fucking someone’s ass was something I was very interested in. However this played out—or not—it needed to be on Maclain’s terms, or else he’d freak.
As if he’d read my thoughts, his next text pretty much verified my suspicions.
I can’t guarantee I won’t be hot and cold or just pull back altogether.
That’s your normal personality, so…
Dickhead.
Aw, are you flirting with me?
You wish.
Maybe I do.
Like I said, dickhead with a capital D.
You finally have a nickname for me. I like it.
What if I like Nickie better?
Eye contact again. Christ, he made my stomach all wobbly.
Yep, definitely flirting.
His forehead wrinkled in this adorable way as he typed a reply.
I obviously don’t know what I’m doing, so…
Doesn’t matter. This isn’t a competition.
Unless we make it one.
I barked out a laugh, then composed myself, pretending I was watching a video on my phone. I refused to look at him, though, because I would’ve given myself away.
So, does this mean you admit it?
Admit what?
I briefly held my breath, then typed my response. I had to. It’d been bugging me for months.
The shower incident.
He’d gone silent, and my pulse was drumming in my ears, but when I lifted my head to look at him, he didn’t turn away. He bit his lip and stared for a long moment. Then nodded.
Holy fuck, it was like a valve had been unsealed as my chest flooded with relief. Why his admission mattered so much was not something I could easily explain. Except it was further proof that I wasn’t in this alone.