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He huffs a laugh, not looking up. “I feel like that’s an understatement.”
“I’m sorry for all the shit I said,” I offer awkwardly, opening the door and pulling a face at the rain. “I’m bored of social media, so you’re safe for now.”
His lips twist into a halfhearted smirk. “What a relief.” He takes a deep breath. “Are you going to stay in Seattle, if you can’t keep your place on the team?”
“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. “If I can’t make a living here, I’ll have to find something else.”
He looks up quickly. “I was thinking, and I just wanted to say…If you want to be with a woman, then you do you. But if you want to date a man, or at least try it, you shouldn’t be ashamed. You only have one life, and you should live it for your own happiness, not the prejudices of a bunch of assholes.” I gawk at him. Apparently, we’re done pretending I’m not a confused, closeted bisexual. But I’ve never heard someone put it into words before, like it’s not only real, but worthy. Before I can answer, he sighs and bounces his palm against his forehead. “Sorry. I’m really pushy. Everyone hates it. I, uh, I hope you have a good recovery and, you know, see you around maybe.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I take a step back, cold raindrops dripping down my neck, and wave. It’s easier not to look back as I cross the lot and climb the stairs to my place on the third floor. I fumble my keys out of my pocket, focused on getting to my bed where I can shut everything out for a night, and probably the next day and the day after that. Coach texted me, but I didn’t answer her yet because now that Tate’s gone, I can go back to living like an irresponsible train wreck if that’s what I want. Maybe I should get Ali over here, and as many of her friends as she can fit in her car. Tell them to bring alcohol. “Fuck.” The keys hit the concrete landing, and I stare at them between my shoes.
Then I drop my bag on the mat and thunder back down the stairs. I fully expect him to be gone, but the Jeep’s still idling in the middle of the road. Relief fills me first, then panic, because that means I need to have something to say by the time I reach the car. I trip on the curb just as he looks up, incredibly suave of me, and stumble to a stop with my good hand catching myself on the Jeep’s forest green body.
I squint up through the drizzle as Tate rolls down the window, looking worried. “Did you forget something?”
“No.” I hoped he’d read my mind, but he just stares at me blankly. “Fuck, I just, uh.” I look down at the toe I smashed against the curb. “Ow.”
His tight expression relaxes just a little, his hazy green eyes bright under his tousle of dark hair. He has stubble coming in all along his jaw like he forgot to shave this morning. “You look so good online, but you’re really a hazard to society.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
I can see it all on his face for a second. Wanting to believe me, but trying to convince himself he misunderstood somehow.
Reaching through the window, I grab the back of his neck and pull his mouth toward mine. But I didn’t think this through, because I panic and freeze with my lips a breath away from his, our foreheads touching. I’m not sure I have it in me to make it that final inch, to let myself be the thing I’ve always feared, no matter how much I want it. I’m just stuck there, panting like I sprinted a mile, surrounded by the smell of his hair. My brain has reverted to some animal state, so all that comes out of me is a frustrated, confused whimper.
The sound seems to bring Tate back to life. A second later, he’s got the back of my head cradled in his huge hand. “Come on,” he breathes in that low, sexy voice. “This is yours. I won’t do it for you.”
Fuck him, always making things hard. “Do you want me to?” I ask, in maybe the most pathetic, insecure line of all time.
“What do you think?”
“I think everyone wants to be kissed by Dare Matthews.”
Right when he starts to protest, I grab the window for balance and lean up to brush my lips against his. He keeps his hold on the back of my head, his other hand pushing under the collar of my hoodie as he shows me how to take it, parting my mouth, filling me with his tongue. He tastes warm and sweet and strong and I’ve just been ruined, robbed of the ability to settle for anything less than this.
When I’ve held my breath for way longer than even a swimmer should be capable of, my exhausted legs start to buckle and I have to break the kiss to catch myself. Before I can even think, Tate’s out of the Jeep. I assume he’s going to attack my mouth some more, which is alright except that I’m starting to feel a little overwhelmed and teary. Instead, he just picks me up casually by the thighs and rests me against the side of the car, pulling my face into his neck as I wrap all my limbs around him. His other hand slides under my top, to rub my back again in that magic way he has. When I feel steadier, I lift my head and try kissing him again, soft and slow this time with no tongue, just to test if I really can. Now that I’m pressed against him, I feel how his body reacts, a shiver all through his muscles, and it blows my mind that I did that.
When I feel him try to put me down, I just tighten my grip and growl into his warm neck.
“Darius,” he warns, using his fingers in my hair to try and lift my head. I shake him off and mash my face harder into his skin until my nose is squashed too flat to breathe.
“I want you to stay,” I beg, my muffled protest impossible to understand.
He sighs heavily and kisses my jaw, which is the first time he’s kissed me instead of the other way around, and my dick firms up against his body. “I can’t carry you up three flights of stairs.”
“You totally can,” I mutter, lifting my face enough to bite his clavicle. If someone saw me now, I’d lose any reputation I ever had as a playboy.
“I don’t want to. And I can’t park the Jeep this way.”
My head pops up. Our noses are basically touching, his eyes a blurry smear of green-gold that I can’t see clearly unless I cross my eyes. “You’re staying?”
I can feel him chuckle. “If I’d known one kiss would turn you from a raging brat into a desperate little attention-whore, I would have tried it sooner.”
“Be careful what you wish for.” I drop my feet to the asphalt before he can feel how hard I’m getting and step back, a little dizzy.
The rain soaks my hair as I stand with my hands in my pockets, heart pounding in my throat as I watch him park the car in a guest spot. I’m feeling as skittish as a virgin at the end of a first date as he grabs his duffel and walks toward me. I skip backward as he approaches, keeping my distance, and his eyes heat up at the gesture.
It hits me how tired I am as I climb the stairs for the second time, and I’m practically crawling on all fours by the time I get to the top. Tate eyes the bag I threw on the landing and picks it up as I unlock the door. Gloom fills the chilly room even after I turn on the light. Rain cascades down the windows until there is no view, just a gray blur. As I feel the deep sadness settling in, an arm wraps around my middle and pulls me back against something warm and strong. “Why am I not surprised?” Tate grumbles behind me.
