The End Zone (Atlanta Lightning 2)

“What’s your favorite game you’ve ever played in?” I asked.

“Easy. Super Bowl win after Anson came out. There was nothing like it, man. The pure joy on his face. It was totally different than winning the year before. He quieted the haters, maybe even a voice in his own head, when he won as a gay man.”

It didn’t surprise me that Darren’s choice was one that meant something to a person he cared about. That’s who he was. He was much like West in that his cocky exterior was the armor around a heart of gold.

“It’s a shame no one knows how sweet you are.”

“It’s our secret. You can’t tell.”

We went back and forth like that for hours, drinking and talking, asking questions and learning more about each other and maybe ourselves. Darren told me he was worried about arthritis in his knees. He often had to ice them after games, which no one knew but Anson, not even Mia. I told him how I’d driven to Big Bear and locked myself away in a cabin alone for a week when my parents died. West had gone crazy looking for me. “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?” I said eventually.

“Me?”

“No.” I hit him in the face with a pillow. “Humans.”

“I’m not human?”

I rolled my eyes, feeling a little buzzed. “Yes, you’re human, but I meant something amazing about all of us, not just you.”

Darren rubbed his hands together. “Now I’m curious. Whoa. Did I say that right? It sounded slurred.”

We laughed. “It came out right.” Looked like he was a little buzzed too. “Anyway…as I was saying. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known someone, or how old you are, there are always new things to discover about people—others and ourselves, ya know? Like we’re forever changing and evolving. We’re works in progress, probably until the day we die. Everything we experience and learn has the potential to change us in some way, to help us grow or transform or… Fuck, that’s deep.”

I fell back onto the pillows, closed my eyes, and waited for Darren to respond. The longer the silence stretched, the more uncomfortable it became.

I opened my eyes. He was staring at me. “What?”

“You really are beautiful, you know that? I’ve never thought that before…about a man, but you are. Not just outside, but inside too.”

I tried to laugh it off. “My insides are beautiful? Are you a cannibal?”

But then he reached out, fingered one of my curls, played with it. “I’m scared of how much I want you…but then you say something like that, about growing and changing and learning new things about ourselves, and it all makes sense…before my head gets in the way again.”

His hand slid down, the tips of his rough fingers dancing against my face. The touch made me tremble, and my cock began to stir.

I reached for him, thought I was going to push his hand away, but instead I tangled our fingers together. “I’m not new to feelings for a man, obviously, but this isn’t any less scary for me.” Because Darren was different. Darren was more.

And Darren identified as straight.

Darren didn’t know if he could move forward with me.

“I’m tired,” he said, and I let my instincts take over and tugged. Without hesitation, Darren came, lying beside me on the bed.

“You should stay. You’ve been drinking too much to drive.”

“Okay.” The response came quickly, easily; at least it sounded that way to me.

I sat up and turned off the lights. When I lay back down, I thought he would stay on his side of the bed, not touch me, but that wasn’t what happened. Darren never ceased to surprise me. He didn’t even pull me to him, to be the “big spoon” or anything like that. Instead, he made room for himself in the crook of my arm, let his head rest on me, and settled his arm over my chest, reaching up so he could play with my hair.

We went to sleep like that together, and it was…perfect.

Chapter Fourteen

Darren

I tried not to let it, but it was a little awkward when we woke up the next morning. It wasn’t as if I’d ever spent the night in bed with another man that way—being held by him, finding a way to mold my body against his, to take in his scent. But it felt good…damn good. It felt right, and that almost had me fleeing for the hills. It still didn’t fit together in my head, the puzzle pieces not matching up on how I could want him when I’d never wanted a man before. More importantly, how could I feel so…fuck, I didn’t even know what the damn word was, but I sure as shit hadn’t experienced it before. Obviously, not with a man, but not with a woman either.