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West’s hands wrapped around our erections, stroking us together, cock against cock as I kissed him, rode his lap, and thrust into his hold. We didn’t last long, both of us crying out together, painting West’s stomach and chest with our loads.

I fell against him. West kissed my temple, my cheek, my lips. This was going to be so fucking hard. It already was, but there was nothing I wanted more.

“I love you,” I told him.

“I love you too.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Weston

March

It had only been a month since Anson left California, but I was going crazy without him. If the things he said to me were true, and I knew they were, he was feeling the same. We hadn’t seen each other in person again, but we talked every day on the phone or video chatted.

Since winning the Super Bowl, Anson had been inundated with endorsement offers, ad campaigns, interview requests, and engagements. He was working closely with his agent, fielding all the shit he had to do, and I was starting to wonder if the off-season was actually busier for him than when they played.

Things weren’t much better for me. Too many bills had come to the floor, most of them partisan, and there had been a week where we’d spent forty-eight straight hours in session, even through the night. That had been the only time Anson and I hadn’t touched base with each other at the end of the day.

I was exhausted and defeated, especially since one of my bills didn’t pass.

I fell into bed that night, at my place in DC, and the first thing I’d done was call Anson.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he’d told me. “I know how hard you worked on that, how much you believe in it.”

“It just feels like there’s no winning.”

“You try. That’s all you can do.”

His words had helped, and we’d ended up jacking off together over video call. I fingered my ass for Anson and told him I wished it were his cock, and that had made him spew his load everywhere. All good fun.

I was back home in California now, and Anson was home in Atlanta. Jeremy and I were about to watch an interview Anson had done earlier with ESPN.

We sat on the couch, and as soon as Anson’s face appeared onscreen, Jeremy said, “Jesus, I still can’t believe this is real. How is Anson Hawkins your boyfriend?”

“He has good taste?” I teased, making Jeremy roll his eyes.

We watched Anson talk about football and how excited he was for the upcoming season. He talked about how they were getting another ring and said he’d love to stay in Atlanta when they mentioned the next year being the last in his contract.

“How’s it all going?” Jeremy asked when the segment was over.

“As good as it can, I guess. When we’re together or we talk, it’s fucking perfect, but the distance sucks, and our schedules make it that much harder.”

I knew Jeremy understood that, given that his husband spent a lot of time away because of his job.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, “it’s not easy, that’s for sure. Bobby and I have had our ups and downs.”

“You guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. We work. We’re happy. We both like our freedom too, and I always thought you would be the same, but seeing you now, how you are with him, I’m doubting that.”

Fuck, loving someone was making me transparent. I collapsed against the back of the couch. “I’ve never…I’ve never felt this way. I want to be with him all the time. I’m scared to death of fucking it up. That I’m going to do something wrong or he’ll realize it’s too hard. That he’d rather fake it with a woman, or be alone, or that someone will find out and he’ll lose football because of me. How in the fuck could I live with myself if that happened?”

“You can’t think that way. Who are you, and what did you do with the West I know? You don’t accept defeat. You get what you want. You always get what you want. You’ll find a way to make it work, just like you have everything else in your life. You sound like you’re dooming the two of you before you’ve had much of a chance to start.”

I was, wasn’t I? That wasn’t like me. “How in the hell have you handled this for so many years? Being in love sucks. I doubt myself all the time and think about him all the time. It’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t worry, that part fades. Eventually you’ll annoy the shit out of each other all the time, just the way it’s supposed to be.”

“I hope so. Right now, I feel like I’m in a fucking fairy tale. Like at any moment I’m going to break into song and make friends with wild animals before hearts fly out of my ass.”

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