Foster lights up when he sees me, a wide smile stretching across the most attractive face I’ve ever seen. I can’t stop myself from smiling back.
“I gave you notice.” He eyes the partially closed door.
I step aside to let him in.
As soon as the door is closed, Foster grabs my arm and tugs me in for a hug. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against my ear.
He … what? I pull back a little so I can see his face. “Are you here to have sex?”
Foster chokes on a laugh. “Do you want me to be?”
“I’m … confused.”
Foster releases me as I step away and sit on the side of my bed.
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I …” He glances around the room like he’s expecting clarification. “I wanted to see you. We’ve got an away game next weekend and these past two weeks have been—Zach, what’s going on?”
I curl my bare toes against the floorboards, not sure I can look at him. “I don’t know.” I really, really don’t. “We had our date, and it was great, but it was that one weekend, and now it’s over, so I assumed we were done.”
“Done?” He takes a step back. “Were you going to tell me that?”
“I thought you knew.”
“I’m not a fucking mind reader.” Is he … angry?
He turns, making for the door, and I’m more confused than ever.
“Can I ask a question?” I blurt.
“What?” He sounds pissed off but resigned.
“What are you …” I try to pinpoint the emotion. “Are you upset?”
“Holy shit,” he mutters, running a hand over his face. “You tell me, Mr. Psychologist. What is a guy supposed to feel when the person he likes tells him they’re done?”
I’ve never scrambled off my bed so fast. “You what?”
“What?”
“No, you what. What did you say? What does that mean?”
“That I like you?” Foster sounds confused.
“You like me?”
“Have I somehow not been obvious?”
I frown, because has he? “We … never really established what this was, and then you were busy, and I thought maybe your texts were meant to blow me off without hurting my feelings.”
He laughs, and I’m relieved when his hard expression melts away. “You mean the ones I sent so you knew I was thinking of you even though my schedule is crazy right now?”
“Oh.” I shift my weight. “It’s possible I didn’t interpret them that way.”
“And after the hockey game when you blew me off? What was that about?”
“I didn’t want you to see me as an obligation or … or clingy.”
“Obligation? I wanted to hang out with you. Only you. Then when the team was finally done, I went to find you, but you were gone.”
“I waited. Apparently, not long enough.”
“Come here.” Foster pulls me into his arms again, and this time I’m able to relax. “Next time you start assuming what I want, promise you’ll check in first.”
“Next time?” I tilt my head back so I can see him properly. “So you’re saying this could be a … regular thing?”
“Very regular.”
I smile as I step back, arms still around his waist. “I promise. No more assumptions.”
“Well, you can make some. Like if you assume I’m up for sex, the answer will always be yes.”
“Always?”
“Same goes for kissing which we’ve already worked out. Blowjobs and handjobs are on the table.” He smothers me in his arms again, almost knocking me off-balance. “Cuddling. Hanging out.” His lips brush over my ear. “Anything that involves you and me. Naked. Clothed. I want it all.”
“What I’m hearing is, I should pack a bag.”
“For?”
“Your bed is bigger than mine.” I push onto my toes to nip his ear. “And we’re going to need the room for what you’ll be doing to me.”
Foster grabs my ass and rocks his half-hard cock into my hip. “You have two minutes. If you’re not done by then, I’m throwing you over my shoulder.”
“Your threats need some work.”
“Zach …”
“What?” I ask innocently, bending down to pick up my bag. “It’s difficult to move when I’m this hard.”
He growls, and if I wasn’t already turned on, that would do it. “Thirty seconds. Then your ass is mine.”
25
Foster
Zach could not move any slower if he tried.
Seriously.
And when he bends over to unplug his phone charger?
“Okay, fuck this.” I grab Zach from behind, and he lets out an adorable squeak.
I spin him and push him back against the wall.
His head slams into it. “Ow.”
“Shit. Are you okay?” I run my hand over the back of his head.
He laughs. “I’m fine. My first sex injury.”
“Sex concussion. That’s badass.”
“Maybe you should make a mental note that I’m not as big as all those hockey players you throw around on the ice.”
“Noted. But the sentiment still stands. Fuck waiting until we get back to my room. I need you now.” I rock my hips, digging my erection into him.