Out for the Holidays and Out for Gold (Out in College 8.5)

He gave a play-by-play of the moment his name was announced, the vibe on the pool deck, the thump of his heart. His joy was a palpable thing. It brightened every room, penetrating dark corners and lending a sense of contagious invincibility…as though anything could happen if I stuck close to him.

So I did.

My hand low on his jeans pocket, his fingers brushing mine. He didn’t need any assurance that I was near, but I could feel his gaze on me, hot and possessive. And later that night, he moved inside me like thunder, rolling his hips, thrusting deeply as he cradled my head and whispered dirty praises mixed with adoring “I love yous” over and over. I slipped my hand between the tight press of our bodies and jacked my cock. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I held on for dear life when he roared with the force of his release. And I was right there with him.

It took a while for my pulse to even out. I cleaned up with a towel I’d left by our bed, then cuddled close, studying his profile and the rise and fall of his chest. Eventually, he stirred.

“Jesus, I can’t believe how good we are at that,” he sighed.

“Olympic-caliber amazing.” I leaned in and bit his pec playfully. “Did I mention that I’m proud of you?”

Gabe smiled. “I think so.”

“I am. I’m so very fucking proud of you.”

“Thank you, babe.”

“Can I ask you something?” I kissed his right shoulder carefully.

“I’m fine, Der,” he said, correctly guessing where my mind was going.

“I know, but…are you in pain?”

He squinted in the semidark, then shrugged. “I won’t deny that it hurts. It does. But I’m seeing the team doctor and physical therapist daily. It isn’t a secret. And no, it’s not how I want to play, but if it gets me where I want to go, who cares?”

“I do. I don’t want you to hurt yourself or do permanent damage.”

He sat up, propping his pillow behind his head. “I’m fine. I promise. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m very grateful my dad taught me how to shoot left-handed. He insisted on it. I remember when I was seven years old, tears rolling down my cheeks in the pool ’cause he wouldn’t fucking let up. ‘Do it again, Gabe. Do it again.’ He’d feed me balls, one after the other, coaching me the whole time. ‘High left corner, right side skip shot, lob it.’ He was relentless. My mom wasn’t happy with him. She’d yell at him in Spanish, but he didn’t understand, and he didn’t care what she had to say anyway. I was his do-over.”

I bristled beside him. I’d heard many versions of this story before and it always got to me. “That’s a lot for a kid to take on.”

“I know. When I fell short and he left us…” Gabe stared into space, then shook his head as if shaking off bad memories. “I blamed myself. I just wasn’t good enough.”

“Gabe…”

He waved dismissively. “I know, I know. It’s just ironic that the one thing he pushed so hard on me probably secured my ticket to Tokyo.”

“That’s not true. This is all you,” I said fiercely. “This is you not giving up. This is you turning a loss into a win. Credit him for the lesson. Don’t credit him for what you did with it.”

Gabe raised a brow. “Wow. You must really love me or something, huh?”

“Yeah, I must.” I rolled my eyes and tweaked his nipple, chuckling when he captured my wrist and bit the meaty part of my thumb. I yanked my hand away and yawned. It had been a long day for both of us. But I had to know… “Did you tell him?”

“No. Not yet. He left me a message looking for an update. I’ll call him tomorrow. I just…need this to be mine tonight.”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean…I’ve got to get that conversation over with. He’ll be excited, but he’ll also make demands and offer helpful tips, and I cannot have my dad in my head or I won’t see a minute in the pool. And I’m not going to the Olympics to sit on a damn bench.”

“You won’t.” I kissed his cheek. “Replay part of that sentence in your head, Chadwick. You’re going to the fucking Olympics.”

Gabe’s radiant grin lit his handsome features to perfection. “Yeah. I am.”

3

Gabe

Not gonna lie…the next couple of weeks were torture. My right shoulder felt better, but now my left elbow was bugging me. I didn’t think anyone had noticed. I was faster than ever in the pool, and I’d turned up my intensity on defense. My scoring was down a bit, though. It wasn’t for lack of effort. My shots just hadn’t been hitting the mark, but Crowley was on fucking fire.