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Mom and I had become a bit more affectionate with each other, more emotional too. But it wasn’t all positive with my parents. Dad was still standoffish, sometimes asking me probing questions about my sexuality in an effort to understand, he claimed, and I answered with all the honesty I could muster.
But I no longer let my parents control my moods or decisions, something my therapist was working on with me. And when Dad suggested we throw a fundraiser to raise awareness for childhood illnesses, I knew he was taking it all to heart. Mom was excited about the idea too. She loved to plan events and was good at it. Even suggested Dad give a speech.
We talked about it a bunch the last time Lark and I joined them for dinner—though most of my weekends were still spent with Lark and Star. But Mom had graciously extended a Thanksgiving dinner invite to his family, which had stunned me. His mom accepted, and though parts of the dinner were awkward for Lark, Star had won them over in the end, even getting my dad to color with her. I could tell they enjoyed having a little kid around again.
Coach, his arms folded, stared at me as I returned to the field for the start of the game.
“Don’t worry, Coach. I don’t have my head up my ass.”
He clapped me on the back. “Glad to hear it.”
When I joined my teammates on the bench, Bones said, “How do you know Lark didn’t want to wear my number?”
“Leave my man alone,” I said, and Spencer laughed.
The team’s mood was way better, especially with our winning record, but our chemistry took some work after I came out. Not that they treated me that differently in the locker room, but some of them didn’t seem to know what to say. But once they saw that I was essentially the same person—and maybe a bit more comfortable in my own skin—we were able to get into a good rhythm again on the field.
By the end of the fourth quarter, we were ahead by two touchdowns. But when they held us at the five-yard line, it was time for Spencer to kick a field goal and seal our lead. After he put three points on the board, our fans were on their feet, cheering for us. Glancing in that direction, I immediately spotted the most attractive guy in the entire crowd—and he was wearing my jersey.
I reluctantly ripped my gaze away so I could celebrate with my teammates, and once I shook hands with the opposing team’s quarterback, we headed to the locker room to change.
Lark was standing near my parents afterward, and though their body language was a bit uncomfortable, I was grateful they were at least trying. I greeted my parents, we chatted about the game, and I thanked them for coming.
As they said their goodbyes, Mom hugged Lark and Dad squeezed his shoulder. “Say hello to your family.”
Lark smiled. “I will.”
The plan was for us to join our friends at the clubhouse for some food and drinks, but we sneaked off to my dorm room first.
As soon as we were alone, our mouths melded together.
“I love you,” Lark rasped against my lips.
“I love you too.” I peppered kisses against his jaw and cheeks and forehead, trying to get a handle on my fluttering heart. I might never get used to hearing those words from him.
It’d only been days since we were last able to be alone, but it felt like weeks. I was desperate to get lost in him, his noises and scent, even if we had to make it quick. “I missed you.”
“You just saw me—”
“Missedthis.”
“Me too.” He sighed as his fingers twisted in my shirt, drawing me closer. “Fuck me?”
“You don’t have to ask twice.” My voice was rough as my groin tightened and my stomach swooped with anticipation.
His lips met mine, and he licked into my mouth, eliciting a groan from my throat. He drew his mouth away, his gaze searching mine. “How do you want me?”
My pulse pounded in my ears. “Naked.”
He grinned. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to ruin this jersey.”
“Exactly. You need to put it on again for the clubhouse and all the games in the playoffs.”
“Aren’t you the romantic?” He smirked. “Or is it superstitious?”
I chuckled. “Maybe a little of both.”
I tugged his shirt over his head, my lips nipping across his throat and down his chest, inhaling his watermelon scent. It definitely gave me a sugar high. Okay, corny, but I still wasn’t changing his nickname in my phone.
