Tamed (The Courtside King 1)

He was right and Breck knew it, round one and two of the NCAA’s college basketball single-elimination tournament coming up this weekend. If they got knocked out of either of those games, their season was over. He needed to get his head straight. On every front. Because while he had been hungover-sluggish, and Tad’s big announcement had been significant, in truth, there’d been another big something that’d been competing for his focus.

Memories of Friday night. His interactions with Kai had been hounding him non-stop. Their initial hello, and then that exchange in the bathroom. Then all of the eye contact they’d engaged in from afar. Looking back, it felt like they’d been wordlessly interacting all night, with nothing more than sexually charged gazes and pointed expressions.

What’s more, it hadn’t been lost to him that after a while, Kai’s whole vibe had changed. No more passive-aggressive poking. In his actions or his gaze. He’d even stopped the up-close-and-personal shit with his buddy, Scott. Which Breck shouldn’t have been glad about. He shouldn’t care who Kai touched.

Still, even after Kai chilled, whenever their eyes met, Breck had still shot him a glare, hoping against hope that it might somehow help him stop wanting the man.

Because he had. God, something fierce.

And those smoldering looks Kai kept leveling him with hadn’t fucking helped. All mesmerizing and seductive and shit, wordlessly beckoning Breck to come hither.

And Jesus, he almost had.

In truth, it’d kind of freaked him out how close he’d actually come to caving. To marching over and roughly yanking Kai against his body. What if he had? In front of his friends? In front of his peers?

In front of his fans?

It’d been the reason he grabbed his boys and split.

“Dude,” Charlie laughed. “You just gonna stand there dribbling the ball?”

Breck blinked.

Goddamn it, brain. Stop thinking about that man.

Coughing tightly, he shrugged. “All good things come to those who wait.”

Juking right without warning, he cut hard back to the left, then darted past Charlie’s shoulder toward the hoop. Charlie cursed and raced after him, but Breck was leaping before he could stop him. With a flick of his right wrist, the ball hit the net.

Charlie smirked, shifting back to offense. “You better hope you did that on purpose. Space-truck like that this weekend and you’ll get fouled. And then I’ll have to murder your ass.”

Breck feigned a self-assured grin. “Don’t you worry about me. Just get those points on the board.”

“Get me the ball and I will.” Charlie pounded toward mid-court.

Breck followed on his heels, then slammed on the breaks when Charlie turned. He knew what was coming. Throwing his hands up, he tried to block, but Charlie was fast. And had super-powered springs built into his feet. Charlie leapt. Breck did, too. The ball went sailing.

Three-point jump shot.

Breck chuckled. “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“This junkyard dog always is.”

They continued for another fifteen minutes, then at the next curt bark of Coach’s whistle, switched to different partners. Scrimmage matches came next. Hours later, they headed for the showers.

Jegs grinned, leisurely dribbling a ball as they entered the locker room. “Can’t believe it’s here. The Big fuckin’ Dance. March fuckin’ Madness.”

“I know, right?” Charlie sounded psyched. “And Breck’s gonna be ready. Ain’t that right?” He elbowed Breck’s arm.

Breck shoved him half-heartedly. “I’m always ready.”

“Better be,” Jegs grunted.

Breck smirked and stole his ball, then tossed it up and caught it with the tip of his finger. “You worry too much.” He gave it a spin.

Charlie shook his head. “One can’t worry too much in the playoffs. If we lose either game this weekend, we’re out.”

“Wow. Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” Breck chuckled. Lifting his hand, he rolled the ball down his arm, then across his chest and down his other arm. He caught it with a self-assured grin. “We got this, ladies.”

Charlie laughed. “Your confidence precedes you.”

Jegs snorted and snagged his ball back. “You mean his big head. It’s so big, I can barely see his sparkly tiara.”

Breck laughed, tugging off his jersey as they arrived at their lockers. “Just keep puttin’ it in the hole, my man. Just keep puttin’ it in the hole.”

“That’s what she said,” Charlie snickered.

Jegs laughed. “She and her two bangin’ friends.”

Breck’s lips quirked. Stripping down, he headed for the showers, their sex-laden banter getting his mind going all over again. Not about girls, though. Or even Kai. Instead, it had him thinking back to yesterday, when his other two friends had been talking about sex. Specifically, when the three of them had stopped by Tad’s apartment. God, Ned and Jay had been shameless, relentlessly grilling Tad about sex with Scott. Huge props to Tad. Although embarrassed, he’d taken it in stride.

Breck smiled, feeling good that he’d never once jumped on that bandwagon. Never ribbed Tad at all during their visit. Just let the guy be. Because he’d still been riding the high of Saturday night’s win? Maybe. Although, deep down he suspected it’d had more to do with empathy. Similar plights in some roundabout, convoluted way.