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“That sounds pretty dope. If my team loses, especially if I screw up, my pops acts like someone died. He’ll send me long narratives via email explaining what I did wrong, why I did it wrong, or how he thinks the team as a whole could improve. He actually thinks the coaches give a fuck about his emails.”
Simeon stifled a snicker, but still came back with his sweet New Orleans-boy charm. “Some people would. He’s famous.”
“Yeah, he is. That’s why he thinks everyone should listen to him. Even about sports he doesn’t play.”
The laughter broke free of Simeon’s mouth, and I joined him.
“What do you think your parents would say if they knew you were into guys?”
“Into a guy,” I corrected, nudging his thigh. “It’s just been you.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did, but it was easier to avoid thinking about the “what ifs,” even though it’d been a constant question in the back of my head as we’d walked back from Judd’s. He’d been a salty mess even though we’d brought his kid home, but the jackass had acted like he hadn’t wanted to let Brayden’s mother into the house. Their divorce must have been a wreck, but it wasn’t any way to treat a human being, regardless of the bad blood. Luckily, she’d already paid for a hotel a few blocks away.
“Adrián?”
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “To be quite frank with you, I’ll probably never tell my father anything about my personal life. It was the same way the one time I seriously dated a woman. He’s suspicious of everyone, and I didn’t want to put her through the interrogation.”
Simeon’s eyes were heavy on the side of my face, the first indication that my words mattered to wherever this conversation was going.
“But my mom? I think I’ll probably tell her. She’s been doing a lot of Facebooking about queer rights and shit lately. If she came down on me for a little bisexuality, I’d never let her live down how much of a hypocrite she is.”
“A little bisexuality.” Simeon guffawed, sinking further into the bed and covering his face with one of my pillows. “You’re such a dumbass.”
“Hey, at least I’m owning it and not still claiming to be straight.”
“True.” There was a smile in Simeon’s voice, betraying his excitement and also his pleasure at my word choice. He rolled onto his side and stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “I’ve met dudes who say they’re straight even after I turned them out with my ass.”
“Because they probably were just in it for the sex.” And that was a leading statement if I’d ever made one. Shit. Way to set myself up. I licked my lips, nervous and overly aware of how keenly he was analyzing me. There was no way I could end that statement there. “If I didn’t like you so damn much, I probably would be trying to claim the same thing.”
“Fortunately, it’s impossible not to like me. My personality is as pretty as my face.”
“And your head is getting to be about a million times the size of where it started back in August.”
“Ooh . . . now look who’s being a size queen.”
We laughed together, loud and bright in the midst of a storm that was doing its best to beat the city. But my bedroom had become a haven against the weather, and this bed was our cocoon. I felt safe here with Simeon, and the rest of the world seemed very far away.
His addiction to touching prompted him to slide his questing fingers up my arm and chest. In the past, the littlest brushes of our skin had sent me into lust mode, and this was no different. Except now, I listed forward with obvious yearning and scooted over until my knee was lodged between his thighs. His dick was already getting hard—a turn-on in and of itself. That he could have just about any guy he wanted and was choosing me, the asshole who’d spent years antagonizing him, was a gift.
I rocked my knee against him, my breath hitching, more so than his. He just drew me in and laughed quietly in my ear.
“You’re getting to be needy.”
“Yup.”
Simeon ran his tongue along the edge of my ear. “After all this time, why’re you so thirsty for it? Hard up in general, or is all this for little ole me?”
“It’s all you. And it’s happening now because I can finally admit how bad I want it.” I nudged my knee against his bulge and tried not to shiver when he nipped at my earlobe. “To you and myself.”
“That’s deep, boo.” He nipped then sucked to soothe the sting, but it was the sting that went straight to my already-aching dick. “Now tell me what you want to do to me. I have the feeling that reality is gonna catch up with us faster than we want, and then the fantasy of Adrián Bravo being comfortable with all this is gonna go out the window.”
