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I sighed and leaned back in my chair, setting my fork on my plate. “Old man, I’m capable of handling my own shit. I’m nineteen. Don’t need your consent to do shit.”
Jaxon narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m not above holding what I’ve done for you over your head, Logan. I will do it to get my way, to keep you safe. You’re staying here tonight, and I won’t discuss the matter further.”
I sighed and looked at my sweet boy, where he was sitting next to his dad. “Your dad’s overbearing as fuck.”
Spencer shrugged, his face still on fire. “I don’t want you going home either, Logan,” he said quietly.
My shoulders slumped a little, and I leaned my head back, staring up at the ceiling. He knew I was weak to his requests. I’d do anything for him to make him happy, and he fucking knew that.
“Fine,” I grunted, looking back at him. “You two fucking win.”
Spencer hid his smile in his glass of water. Jaxon grunted and focused back on his food.
I had a feeling Jaxon knew he was going to win either way.
* * *
I leaned back against the hard metal bench behind me, my ass hanging down between the seats, and wrapped my arms around Spencer’s middle. He was between my legs, both of us a bit chilly from the cold. But he wanted to show off his jersey for Ezra, so I was reluctantly doing the same.
I loved Ezra, but I’d much rather be warm than show off his ownership of me.
The game was underway, and we were nearing the end of the fourth quarter. The other team was proving to be a damn good opponent though, and the score was currently tied 7-7 with neither team getting points since three minutes into the second quarter.
Spencer sighed, leaning his head back on my chest. “I wish our team would score already.”
I chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I prefer these games over blowout games,” I told him honestly. “Game isn’t fun if the other team is shit.”
He sighed. “If you say so.” No doubt, the suspense was killing him.
Suddenly, people were standing up and yelling, blocking our view. Spencer and I quickly lurched to our feet, and I stepped up onto the seat to see over everyone’s heads.
“Jesus Christ,” I swore, watching as Ezra punched the other team’s quarterback in the face. The quarterback stumbled before tackling Ezra to the ground. Refs were trying to separate them, and security officers were rushing onto the field. Ezra rolled them and swung twice in rapid succession. Blood spurted from the quarterback’s nose before Ezra was yanked off of him. His lip was bleeding, and he spit blood onto the other guy’s uniform, yelling something at him that I couldn’t hear.
“Shit,” I muttered, grabbing Spencer’s hand. “Come on, pretty boy. Our man needs us.”
He quickly followed me, allowing me to make a path for us through the stands. We jogged down the steps until we were on the grass, and then I led him over to the fence right behind the football team. Ezra was already on the sidelines, getting yelled at by his coach. Ezra’s face was red, his chest heaving, rage darkening his eyes. Pulling Spencer in front of me, I wound my arms around his waist, both of us waiting for Ezra to stop getting berated.
Finally, his coach pointed a stiff finger toward the bench, and Ezra stormed over, stopping short when he saw us waiting on him. He sighed and walked over to us, his helmet dangling from his hand.
“You saw that?” he asked.
I nodded. He clenched his jaw and looked away, a stormy look in his eyes. “Fucker said some shit he shouldn’t have,” he growled.
I released Spencer and walked up to the fence. Reaching across, I curled my hand into his jersey and yanked him to me, covering his lips with mine. He groaned and eagerly kissed me back, reaching across the fence to grip my ribcage. I slowly pulled back, arching a brow at him. “Calm enough for our boy yet?” I asked him.
He drew in a deep breath and nodded his head before moving down the fence a little. Reaching out, he grasped the front of Spencer’s jersey, which swallowed our boy, and tugged him forward before slanting their lips together. I leaned my hip against the fence, watching them with my arms crossed over my chest, my cock hardening.
Fuck, they were so beautiful together.
Feeling eyes on me, I looked across the field and spotted the quarterback Ezra had pummeled glaring at us. I smirked and waved at him with my middle finger.
Spencer suddenly smacked my arm down. I looked at him, frowning. “What?”
“Stop antagonizing people,” he scolded.
Ezra chuckled and pulled Spencer back to him. “Let him, baby,” he murmured against Spencer’s lips. “Serves the fucking asshole right.”
No doubt that fucker had said some shit about one of us. It was the only thing that got Ezra heated these days. Looking back at the quarterback across the field, I smirked and mimed a jack-off motion before throwing it his way.
