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My next breath shudders out. "That I want this? Want to see where this thing between us goes?" I press my palm to his chest, feel his frantic heart matching mine. "Yeah. I'm saying that, Golden Boy."
A rupture seems to go through Riot at my words. In a flash, his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding. I groan into the kiss, senses overwhelmed by the taste of him and his wintry scent. My fists bunch in his shirt, dragging him closer.
We kiss hungrily, months of suppressed cravings and tension exploding between us now that we’re officially giving in. My hands grasp desperately at his shirt, dragging him against me so there’s no space between us. Riot pins my wrist to the brick wall, taking control as I groan into his devouring mouth.
He kisses me like he's been starving, and I kiss him back with the same intensity. I strain against his hold and Riot pushes me harder into the wall, his muscular thigh thrusting between my legs. A choked moan escapes my throat at the dizzying friction, which Riot eagerly swallows.
"I want you so fucking bad," he growls against my swollen lips. "Needed to hear you say it."
"I want this, Ri. Want you," I breathe raggedly.
Riot's eyes blaze into mine, dark with lust and promise. His next scorching kiss steals my breath and weakens my knees. I'm drunk on him, on the rush of our mutual cravings.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, the same exhilaration and fear shine in Riot's eyes that must be in mine.
"People will judge us if they find out," he rasps. "They won’t understand."
I lace our fingers, heart swelling with this newfound connection. "Doesn't matter. It's you and me now. We'll figure the rest out."
Riot searches my face, then nods slowly. "Together then. You and me against the world, Hotshot."
His vow sends warmth curling through me despite the winter chill. I know this won't be easy or likely accepted where either of us wants to go in the pros. But Riot's palm in mine feels destined, like coming home.
We leave the alley and walk back to campus hand in hand, only letting go when we’re close enough to run into people we might know. Tomorrow, everything between us goes back to being a secret. But tonight, I fall asleep in Riot’s bed without a single fuck to give.
15
RIOT
The rhythmic poundingof my feet on the treadmill does nothing to quiet my racing thoughts. I increase the incline, relishing the burn in my calves and lungs. Physical pain I can handle. It's the mess in my head that's slowly unraveling me.
With a frustrated grunt, I hop off and head for the stationary bikes instead. A familiar figure is already there, pedaling at a steady clip.
"Hey Deck," I greet my friend and captain.
Deck glances over with a nod. "Kensington. You're looking intense today."
"Just one of those days," I mutter, taking the bike beside him. We fall into our usual rhythm, the familiar hum of the wheels and motion of our legs oddly soothing.
I keep replaying moments from the holiday week with London. Taking turns beat boxing with his brother Leo until we were all breathless with laughter. London trying and failing to teach me how to make his grandma's famous mac and cheese. Getting caught in an intense snowball fight on campus, the two of us collapsing behind a tree, soaked, freezing our asses off but happy. Each memory leaves me craving more. There's an ease to our… whatever we are that we've found over the break that I'm desperate not to lose.
And when he blew me a couple of days ago… I almost lost my goddamn mind. I have no idea what I’m doing trying to be with a guy, let alone my rival. Though these days he feels less like a rival and more like… everything.
If only it were that simple. Ever since we got back, I can't stop thinking about my online friendship with "FallingDown." The parallels to my own conversations with London are uncanny with things happening in our lives. And then there's the connection we share, our love for hockey, and some of the phrases he uses.
Fuck, could London be FallingDown?
No, that’s crazy… right?
My pulse picks up. I have to get this off my chest or it's going to eat me alive.
"Hey Deck, can I run something by you?" I blurt out.
Deck shoots me a sidelong glance. "Sure man, what's up?"
I grip the handles, steeling myself. No names, but just enough truth. "So I have this... online friend I chat with sometimes. We have this great connection around hockey. Only lately, things in real life make me wonder if he might be someone I actually know."
Deck's brows rise, but he simply nods for me to continue.
