The rest of the day passed in a blur. I made my apologies after practice to my team and Gabe, then issued a warmish welcome to him before hightailing it home. I didn’t want another run-in with Coach, and I didn’t want to discuss my tirade with my friends. I wanted peace and quiet and an afternoon to myself. I cleaned the kitchen and bathroom and then mowed the lawn. I was about to go running when the text I’d been checking my phone for every fifteen minutes finally came through.

Hi Derek, can you meet at Habana at 7 tonight?

I stared at my cell and contemplated text etiquette with a guy I’d kissed. Twice. If Gabe were one of my friends, I’d respond immediately so I wouldn’t forget. But he wasn’t my friend. Not really. I had no previous experience to draw from when it came to striking the right balance of sexual interest with someone of the same sex. If I returned his message right away I might seem desperate, like I’d been sitting around waiting for him to call me all afternoon. Which was true, but still…I tried to think about what I’d do if he were a girl, but it didn’t work. The mind-set was all wrong.

I set my phone on the kitchen counter and headed to my bedroom to change my clothes and find my running shoes. That would kill roughly ten minutes. Perfect. I toed off my Vans, stepped out of my khaki shorts, and lifted my T-shirt over my head just as the front door opened. I shouted a quick greeting to Evan when he called my name and finished getting dressed.

“How’s it go—what are you doing?”

I frowned as I moved into the kitchen and found Evan bent over my cell, reading an incoming message.

He glanced up at me with a raised his brow. “You’re popular.”

I snapped my phone from the counter and shot an irritated glare at him. “Why are you reading my texts, asshole?”

Evan put his hands up in surrender and shook his head. “I’m innocent! I swear, I was just standing here and then kapow…your cell lit up. Don’t get excited, man. They’re all from Gabe. You guys are awfully chummy all of a sudden. I thought you hated him.”

“He’s fine. And like it or not, I have to be friendly.”

“Looks like you’re real friendly,” Evan teased, waggling his brows. He dumped his workout bag on the floor, then headed for the refrigerator.

I gulped before working up the courage to scroll through my new messages.

If you want to go somewhere else that’s cool

We can meet later too

The Grill on 2nd is good

Okay. A lot of messages but they were harmless. I typed a quick reply. See you at Habana at 7. Then I slipped my phone into my pocket, grabbed a water bottle, and tilted my chin toward Evan.

“We’re ‘regular’ friendly. No big deal. Where’ve you been?” I asked, hoping to deflect attention from myself.

Evan pulled a takeout box from the fridge and gave me the “What the fuck?” look I deserved. It was a stupid question. Evan was a creature of habit and a chronic oversharer. He gave me a breakdown of his schedule every evening, whether or not I asked. He had a way of making boring information sound conversational. “I’ve got practice till three, then some studying to do. Want to grab dinner after?” That kind of thing. However, even if I’d forgotten his rundown from the night before, he’d obviously been at football practice. He rocked his usual “showered but fresh off the field” look: damp hair, fatigued expression, and a voracious appetite.

I uncapped a water bottle and clandestinely observed Evan shoveling leftover Chinese food into his mouth. If I was gay or bi, wouldn’t I think he was at least a little sexy? By anyone’s standards, Evan was a good-looking dude. He had an all-American athletic vibe reminiscent of Abercrombie ads. Square jaw, broad shoulders, toned muscles. His biceps bulged and flexed as he lifted the fork and took a giant bite of cold chow mein. Nope. I loved Evan like a brother, but I wasn’t attracted to him. At all. And when he chewed his food like a cow and opened his mouth to gross me out, I knew without a doubt there was zero danger of suddenly lusting after my roommate.

“Practice,” he replied, stabbing at the noodles greedily. “It was so fucking hot out there today. I couldn’t wait to be done. I’m gonna crash for a couple of hours, and then I’m heading out for drinks with some of the guys. Wanna join us after your date with Gabe?”

“You’re hilarious,” I snorted. I flung the bottle cap at his head, then filled him in on my blowup in the pool. I finished up with a nonchalant, “We’re just trying to do the right thing and get back on track as teammates, ya know?”

Evan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Seems like a waste of time.”

“I told Coach I’d play nice, and that’s what I’m doing,” I said flippantly.

“Whatever. Come by afterward.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I’ll text you. We’ll try to keep it close to Habana. You and Gabe can swing by after your powwow. Unless, of course, you want some ‘alone time’ with your new buddy.”

Evan winked, then changed the topic to a new play they’d worked on at practice that afternoon. I did my best to act enthralled by his coach’s strategic genius, but my mind was buzzing again. The last thing I wanted to worry about was running into my friends tonight. Or maybe that was silly. It wasn’t like I was going to kiss Gabe in public. But kissing him in private sounded kind of amazing.

Habana was a newish Cuban restaurant located a block from the ocean. Its corner lot prime location, rooftop deck, and regular live music made it an instant sensation with locals and tourists. It was always packed. Especially on the weekends. I straightened the collar on my blue button-down shirt and snuck a quick peek at my reflection in the mirrored wall next to the reception desk. I’d taken extra care getting ready tonight. The shirt was new, the designer jeans were my favorite, and my hair was on point. I might have been clueless about what came next, but I’d felt compelled to look my best. I wasn’t sure why, though. This was a platonic meeting, not a date.

The hostess directed me to a semi-private booth in the back of the restaurant. Gabe looked up as we approached, and I swore my heart did a backflip against my rib cage. Holy fuck, he was hot. His dark hair looked thicker out of the pool, and the black oxford shirt he wore hugged his broad shoulders and somehow made his hazel eyes pop.

I licked my lips nervously as I slid into the leather bench across from him.

“Hey.”

“Hi. You look nice,” he said with a smile.

“Me? Uh…thanks,” I sputtered. I was painfully grateful when the waiter came to introduce himself and take our drink orders.

Gabe motioned for me to go first before addressing the waiter in Spanish. My collective six years of the language between high school and college were enough to give me the gist of their brief conversation. He’d ordered bread and empanadas and asked for mango salsa.

When the older gentleman walked away, Gabe tapped his water glass against mine and smiled. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” I sipped my water, then pushed it aside and propped my elbows on the table. “Are you Spanish?”

“Half Mexican on my mom’s side. I grew up speaking Spanglish. I still do,” he said with a laugh.

“Give me an example.”

“Okay. Te ves bien. Es esa new shirt?”

I chuckled. “Sí. It is.”

“Ha. You’re a natural. I like that shirt, by the way. Your eyes look bluer or something.”

His timbre was low and sexy. And when his gaze sharpened with appreciation, it took me a moment to snap out of it.

“Thank you.”

Our waiter returned with my sangria and asked if we were ready to order our main course. I studied Gabe carefully, admiring his olive skin and the graceful cut of his jawline. I tuned out his words and listened to the cadence of his deep voice. It moved through me like honey.

“Do you know what you want?” he asked, ripping me from my reverie.

“Uh…” I glanced down at the menu and immediately gave up. There were too many choices. “What are you having?”

Gabe gave me a mischievous grin. “Do you trust me?”

“No. Not really.”

He glowered playfully. “Trust me this time. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

He snatched the menu from my fingers and handed it to our waiter with instructions to “Make that two.” I huffed in amusement as I plucked a piece of orange from my sangria.

“It doesn’t really matter. I’m too nervous to eat anyway,” I commented ruefully.

“Why are you nervous?”

“Because whatever this is”—I gestured between us before continuing—“I’ve never done it before. And other than the night of Chelsea’s party, the only time we’ve ever spent together has been in the pool. And most of that time, I haven’t liked you.”

“Ouch. We’re trying to be friends, Der. This is just dinner.”

I frowned at his oversimplification. “It feels like a date. I know it’s not, but—”

“It can be, if we want it to be.”

“I don’t know what to say to that. This is really confusing for me. For the record, I don’t usually dress up for dinner with my friends, and I’ve never kissed any guy on the lips.”

Gabe gave me a mischievous look as he leaned forward. “We did more than that, Der.”

“Yeah, but…it didn’t mean anything,” I said before adding, “Do you do that all the time?”

“What? Kiss my teammates?” he quipped.

“Yeah.” I nodded, then sipped my sangria.

“Never. And I can honestly say, I haven’t come in my underwear in years. You were on fire.”

“I was drunk. You have no excuse.”

“I don’t need an excuse, and I’m not sorry. It was hot.” Gabe paused when a server set the bread and empanadas on our table and then refilled his water. When we were alone again, he continued. “Jesus, I’m getting a boner just thinking about it. Are you? Be honest.”

That had to be a rhetorical question. I was so fucking horny it hurt to sit still. My dick nudged my zipper, practically begging for release. And once again, I didn’t understand my reaction to him. It was madness.

I clandestinely flattened my palm over my crotch and shifted in my seat before nodding. “Yeah.”

Gabe leaned with his elbows on the table gave me a cocky grin. “Yeah, what?”

“I’m not gonna say it out loud,” I informed him primly.

“Tough customer. Okay, let’s try something else. On a scale from one to ten, how hard are you right now?”

I gave a half laugh and looked away for a moment, then flashed a bashful grin at him. “Six.”

“Liar. I’m at seven and a half right now,” he reported proudly.

I chuckled at his pained expression. “Fine. Maybe I am too, but I’m also confused,” I admitted. “Are you gay?”

He pulled a piece of bread apart and inclined his head. “Technically, I’m bi,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m guessing you are too, right?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I took another drink, then swallowed hard and tried again. “A couple of weeks ago I would have said no, but I was lying to myself. The truth is…y-yeah, I am.”

“Maybe you were just curious,” he offered.

“Maybe. But, it’s never been like that before. I mean, I’ve been attracted to other guys in the past, but I’ve never acted on it. Not like that.” I pursed my lips before continuing. “I want to blame the whole thing on alcohol, but it’s always been there. I just never lost control until you.”

He regarded me for a moment. His expression was kind and understanding. Then a roguish smile lit his eyes, making him look impossibly handsome. “So you do like me.”

“That might be an overstatement,” I retorted.

“Fine. You’re hot for me. That might actually be better.” Gabe squeezed my hand impulsively, then pushed an empanada onto my plate and spooned some mango salsa to the side. “Eat something. These are delicious, especially with the salsa.”

“Thanks.” I smiled in amusement at the chivalrous though slightly overattentive gesture as I cut into the savory appetizer. I was tempted to refute the “hot for me” comment but I didn’t see the point in denying it. The desire to climb over the table, push him flat on the booth, and grind against him was stronger than ever. I cleared my throat and refocused. Food. I could talk food.

“Do you like mangos?”

“Not usually. They’re too sweet. But I like the salsa with this dish. Take a bite.”

I narrowed my eyes at his bossy tone but obeyed. “Mmm. It’s good.”

“I told you so.”

His boyish grin did things to me. I felt dizzy and a little in awe of him. It seemed so strange to be here, sharing a meal and talking about mangos after what we’d done. And—oh, yeah.

“Why did you kiss Amanda at that party?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “She wanted your attention, and I guess I did too.”

I frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“Sure it does. You’re too polite outside of the pool, and I’m too careful. Usually. You make me act weird.”

“How so?”

Gabe shrugged. “You know, just…out of character. Want to know a secret? I wouldn’t have gone to that party if I hadn’t known you’d be there. Which is funny ’cause I planned to ignore you that night the way I knew you’d ignore me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I repeated, taking another bite of empanada.

“I know. Story of my life. I’ve never been able to say what I think on the first try. I act out and eventually have to double back and explain myself. Look, I figured I’d see you in your element, go home, and jerk off to how hot you looked in those tight jeans.”

My face heated instantly. “Me? Really?”

“Hell, yeah. I’ve had a small crush on you for years. News flash…it exploded into an epic one, and I’ve been kinda miserable since you started ignoring me again.”

“Oh.” My jaw dropped. I had no clue he’d ever thought twice about me.

“It’s true.” Gabe waved his hand as though his gigantic revelation was no big deal, then continued. “When Amanda came on to me, I knew she wanted to make you jealous. That’s what I meant about acting stupid. I shouldn’t have kissed her at all, but I took a chance that you might notice me…and you did, so I’m not sorry,” he said emphatically. “The only problem was that you were drunk. In my experience, sex and excess alcohol go hand in hand with a fuckton of regret. Especially for a straight guy who wakes up next to another dude for the first time. I was giving you an out.”

“I didn’t want an out, asshole. I wanted to talk to you. And I didn’t wake up next to you,” I reminded him.

“Did you want to?”

“No way! Of course not.”

Gabe frowned. “Honestly, I get it. But that’s why I didn’t want to talk to you. Admit it, you probably puked in the morning and spent the rest of the day wondering how this was gonna go down. Didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. But in my defense, I had a lot to drink and…I was scared.”

“Me too.”

We held eye contact for a long moment letting a thread of understanding weave into something new we might be able to share.

I nudged his knee playfully and grinned. “You stole my cap on purpose. You knew that would piss me off and—you wanted my attention again, huh?”

“Well…maybe.” Gabe acknowledged with a sheepish shrug. “I had no idea you’d be such a fucking hothead,” he snorted.

“I’m not, usually. Most of the time I’m very sane,” I assured him. “I was so pissed when I walked out of Coach’s office. I couldn’t help thinking you set me up.”

Gabe cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean? How?”

“I figured you took my cap to warn me off. You probably didn’t count on me going nuts, but it worked to your advantage. You’ll be in the pool with the guys I’ve trained with for four years while I watch from the sidelines and worry you’ll tell everyone what I did and—”

“I would never do that, Derek.” Gabe shook his head adamantly. “I stole your cap to get your attention because like it or not, we’re on the same team. Ignoring each other isn’t a long-term strategy.”

“And this is?” I gestured between us meaningfully.

Gabe’s nostrils flared, and his eyes lit with a heated, lusty look I recognized well. “Probably not but…I want you.”

I swallowed hard and bit my bottom lip. “I don’t know how to do this, Gabe. I don’t even know what I want.”

“You’re here. That’s a start.”

We stared at each other, lost in a sensual haze that seemed to separate us from the rest of the world.

The timely arrival of our dinner broke the spell. I wiped my damp palms on my jeans while Gabe assured the waiter everything looked great. I glanced down at the skillet in front of me filled with chicken and vegetables and a generous side of rice, beans, and plantains.

“It looks delicious,” I commented, picking up my fork.

“Fricasé de pollo. Basically, it’s a stew. I love it. My mom makes this.”

“Mmm. It’s good. Isn’t this a Cuban dish? I thought you said you’re half Mexican,” I said before taking another bite.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I am. She makes apple pie and mac and cheese too. Not just Mexican food. And this isn’t necessarily a Cuban dish. I think it’s a Caribbean thing. I have a Puerto Rican friend who makes a mean fricasé de pollo. I told my mom about it, and she decided to give it a try. She’s an amazing cook.”

“Did she teach you?”

“No. I get by okay. I keep it super basic. Protein shakes and veggies and pasta. What about you?”

“I’m pretty good in the kitchen. It’s the one room in our house that my parents didn’t use, so I had free rein to concoct experiments and learn new recipes. Our housekeeper taught me a little. The rest I’ve learned on my own. In my perfect world, I would have gone to culinary school.”

“Go after you graduate.”

“My folks are never going to be on board with that. I’ve taken a few hospitality courses but as far as they’re concerned, that’s just for fun. Real money is in business.”

“Where does water polo fit in?”

“Team building, discipline, fitness. I’ve been playing since I was nine years old. They signed me up for water polo at our club without asking me. I thought I’d hate it. I love the water, but I just wanted to swim. Not have people yanking at my trunks and kicking my side to get the ball away from me. I liked it better than I thought I would. And then I loved it because I was good at it and it was mine.”

“Like the kitchen?”

“Exactly.” I grinned. “My mom plays tennis. Dad golfs. Neither of them knows anything about my sport. They probably didn’t think I’d play water polo in college. I’m sure they’ll be relieved when this season is over, and I finally graduate and get a job. They’re totally supportive. But in a controlling way, if that makes sense. I guess it comes with being an only child.”

Gabe nodded thoughtfully. “I’m an ‘only’ too. Different story but I get it. My dad played in college. He wanted to make me into his ‘mini me.’ I was doing drills with him in the pool at the local high school when I was in first grade. I hated it back then. After awhile he gave up on me, divorced my mom, and started over again. That’s when I really got interested in the sport.”

“Did you think he’d come back?” I asked gently.

“Maybe. I dunno.” Gabe sighed and made a funny face. “Okay, yes. I was pretty sure it was my fault he left in the first place. So I made it my mission to be the best damn water polo player I could be. It didn’t work. He never came back. But he claims he’s proud of me. He actually called to congratulate me when I made the national team. He rarely comes to my games. He says he’s busy with work, his new family, and blah, blah, blah, but I think he’s holding out to see if I actually make the Olympic team.”

“No offense, but he sounds like a jerk,” I huffed indignantly on his behalf.

“He’s a narcissist. If it’s not about him, he’s not interested. He liked that my mom’s English wasn’t great when they met. It meant she needed him. And he liked that I was a strong swimmer and a fast learner at an early age. But he didn’t like it when Mom’s English got better or when I voiced my own opinions. Maybe his new family is more cooperative,” Gabe said with faux nonchalance.

“How many stepsiblings do you have?”

“Two stepbrothers. They’re eight and ten. I can’t remember the last time I saw them. Or my dad. Oh, wait. I remember now.” Gabe snorted, then shook his head in disbelief. “He came to one of my games six months ago. It was a nail-biter. Double overtime turned into a shootout and thankfully we won. He offered to take me out to dinner afterward and I kid you not, he spent the entire hour giving me tips on how to improve my shot. He picked apart my game like a sports analyst. I kept trying to change the topic, but he wouldn’t take the hint. Crazy thing is…we have nothing else to talk about. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know my favorite band or TV show, and I’d bet you a million bucks he has no idea what my major is.”

I set my fork down and straightened my leg under the table, nudging his knee again and resting my calf against his. It wasn’t a stealthy or particularly sexy maneuver, but it was the best I could do. And maybe Gabe understood. He smiled and held my gaze. When I noticed his eyes slip to my mouth, I bit my lower lip and started babbling.

“Okay…I’m curious. Who’s your favorite band? What’s your favorite TV show? What’s your major, and what are you going to do after you graduate?”

Gabe chuckled. “Uh, let’s see…Kings of Leon are cool, but I like older groups like Queen and Led Zeppelin too.”

“Same here. I like all those bands. And alt-J. They’re awesome.”

Gabe nodded in agreement. “Favorite show…Walking Dead. You?”

“Game of Thrones.”

“I’ve never seen a single episode,” he admitted sheepishly.

“What? How can that be?” I gasped theatrically. 

“Don’t take it so hard, Der. It’s a fucking TV show.”

I smacked my palm against my forehead and slumped in the booth. “This is why we’ve never gotten along. We can’t agree on anything important.”

Gabe chuckled. “We just don’t know each other outside of the pool. We can change that.”

“How? What comes next?” I asked in a quiet voice.

He paused with his fork in midair and gave me a shy smile. He seemed nervous suddenly and for some reason, that leveled the playing field. It was good to know I wasn’t the only one feeling oddly vulnerable.

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. Maybe we start by hanging out together a little bit.”

My heart skipped a beat. I nodded but didn’t speak for a couple of seconds. “We can do that. Coach basically said we had to, so no one will think it’s weird. We’re teammates.”

“If anything, they’ll be relieved you don’t want to kick my ass twenty-four seven.”

“Who says that part would change?” I griped good-naturedly.

Gabe’s eyes lit with ready humor and something like a carnal challenge. “I’m gonna make you like me, Der.”

“I do like you,” I croaked.

“You’re gonna like me more,” he said huskily.

Gabe’s lopsided grin did things to me. Yes, he was good-looking and fit, but there was something special in that extra spark in his eyes. He was devilishly charming and self-assured, but he was complex and confusing as hell. All I knew was, there was much more beneath the surface than I imagined.

We talked about shows we’d loved as kids, which morphed into a chat about cartoons, comics, and Pokémon collections. I laughed aloud when Gabe went into explicit detail about how to properly care for Pokémon cards. His boyish side was endearing and unexpected.

“…label the plastic sleeves. Only one card per sleeve. If you double up, you miss the info on the back,” he commented. He fumbled for his wallet and handed his credit card to our waiter before I could protest. When I was going to argue, he shook his head. “Leave it alone, Der.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll get it next time.”

“Or you can cook something,” he suggested.

I smiled, then dabbed the corner of my mouth to keep it from spreading into a megawatt grin. “Sure. What would you like?”

“Spaghetti,” he replied immediately.

“Really? Don’t you want to think about it?”

“Nope. Spaghetti is my favorite.”

“All right. I’ll trade you spaghetti for at least three episodes of Game of Thrones.”

“Deal.”

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach wildly, making it hard to breathe. So I reacted the way any average guy in a panic situation would.…I kicked him under the table. Gabe chuckled and of course retaliated. Then he grabbed my wrist and gave me a stern look before linking his pinkie finger with mine. I had déjà vu of the gay couple I’d seen at the coffee shop the morning after Chelsea’s party. I’d clandestinely observed them, feeling anxious yet curious. I recognized something special between them that I’d never had with a partner. Maybe I’d been looking in the wrong place all along. Maybe this was where I was supposed to be. When the butterflies went into overdrive, I felt flush and funny inside, but fuck, I felt good too.

Something happened after that “date.” We didn’t suddenly become friends or lovers. We were just two guys who were intensely aware of each other and did our best to act normal. We avoided any unnecessary chatter in the pool or locker room, and we didn’t hang out at school. But we started texting and talking in our free time. Silly conversations that had no rhyme or reason.

You gotta stop passing the ball to Michaelson until he’s set, I typed. His corner shot is off.

Blow me. Did you see Fast and Furious?

Which one? There’re a million.

Lengthy texts usually led to impromptu meetings. We’d end up sitting across from each other in a coffee shop talking for hours and finding funny ways to touch. Knees under the table, hands resting on coffee cups. It was almost innocent. Except for the part where I imagined him naked against me. I wanted to do what we’d done in the bathroom. Times ten. And the way Gabe looked at me when no one else was around made it clear he felt the same. If he wasn’t going to make a move, it was up to me to let him know I wanted more.

Two weeks after our dinner at Habana, I asked him if he felt like grabbing something to eat after our game. I made a lame comment about reciprocating, when it would have been more accurate to say, “I want to talk to you for hours at a candlelit table in a semi-dark corner. And I want you to come home with me.” I wasn’t ready for brutal honesty, but I hoped he’d get the gist.

We ended up at a very unfancy burger joint near the pier. I had to give up the reservations I’d made at the steakhouse nearby when our game went into overtime. It didn’t matter. The idea of candlelight and a romantic overture was nice but as we chomped on fries and dissected the best and worst parts of our game, I couldn’t help thinking this was better. Free-flowing repartee without uncomfortable expectation was better than sitting around with a belly full of butterflies.

By the time we stepped outside, our conversation had drifted to our favorite blockbuster summer movies.

“I’m easy. I’ll watch anything, but I like the ones that don’t take themselves too seriously, like Guardians of the Galaxy.” I glanced up and down the busy street. “Did you park or valet your car?”

Gabe let out a half laugh. “I’m a poor college student, Der. I never valet. I’m on the next block.”

“Okay. Um…I had Evan drop me off after I went home to shower and…” I winced and willed myself to shut up. Then I scratched the back of my neck and narrowed my eyes, hoping I’d get this next part right. I was about to leap off a cliff without a parachute so frankly, anything was possible. “We can say good-bye here or…you can come over and…I don’t know…watch a movie or something. I’m not sure what—”

“Yes.”

Gabe grabbed my wrist for a moment as though he was going to pull me against him. He let go immediately and shoved his hands into his pockets instead but kept his eyes locked on my lips. And suddenly I knew exactly what he was thinking. I wished he could say it or better yet, just do it. Then again, I wasn’t sure how I’d react if he kissed me on a crowded street. I wasn’t ready for a public display, but I was definitely ready for something more.

“Good. Evan said he’s going out tonight. I’ll check in with him to be sure.” I pulled out my cell and attempted to walk and text at the same time.

“It’s fine either way, Der. We can just hang out. We don’t have to do anything,” he said as he opened the driver-side door of his gray Mini Cooper.

I slipped into the passenger seat and then twisted to face him. “I want to.”

He turned the engine on and then froze with both hands on the wheel before glancing at me. “You do?”

“Yeah. My palms are clammy. Either the anticipation is killing me, or this is my new normal around you. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m nervous about what we’ve already done or if I want to do it again. Maybe it’s just being with you. I don’t know. And I can’t stop talking. So say something. Make me stop.”

Gabe reached across the console and laced his fingers through mine and squeezed. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m in the same state.”

“California?”

Gabe released my hand and shook his head in mock chagrin. “That was bad, Vaughn. Real bad.”

I chuckled at his deadpan delivery and melted into the seat. “See? I told you I’m a mess.”

An old Coldplay song serenaded us as Gabe navigated his car through the busy beach traffic. It was soothing but sexy. At that moment, I would have happily driven all night long and gone wherever he led. I just wanted to be with him.

Gabe pulled up in front of my house a couple of minutes later. Then he followed me along the pathway and waited patiently while I fumbled with the lock. I headed for the living area and pointed at the flat-screen on the far wall above the fireplace.

“Wanna watch something? Evan texted me back. He won’t be home for a while. We can watch whatever you want,” I blabbered. “You can choose. I’m easy.”

“Good to know,” he teased. When I didn’t crack a smile, he set his thumb under my chin and scratched me, like a cat. “Relax, Der. It’s okay.”

I nodded, fixating on his mouth before lowering my gaze to his chest and his trim waist. I was aware of him giving me the same thorough once-over. I didn’t know what he saw, but I liked the hungry look in his eyes. It was evidence if I needed it that he meant what he’d said. Whatever this was, we were in it together.

I sat next to him on a corner of the sectional and reached for the remote. I scrolled through adventure flicks and comedies, reading the selections aloud in a feeble attempt to refocus and get my pulse under control. Gabe weighed in occasionally, but he didn’t seem to care what we watched any more than I did. We settled on Jurassic Park. I had no clue which number it was in the series. Hell, it could have been another movie starring a slew of dinosaurs. My concentration was shot. My senses were buzzing with awareness for Gabe. Tyrannosaurus Rex didn’t stand a chance.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I whispered.

“No, thanks. Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know.” I swiped my hands on my jeans and then crossed my arms and uncrossed them. “I think I need water. I’ll be right back.”

Gabe hooked his fingers through my belt loop when I stood and yanked me backward, so I landed almost on top of him. I scooted back a few inches and licked my bottom lip, noting his hungry stare with a satisfaction that felt foreign to me.

He lifted his fingers and tentatively traced my jawline while his eyes roamed over my face, taking inventory or memorizing my features. He placed his hand over my throat in a proprietary grip that was borderline possessive before cupping the back of my neck and leaning in to brush his nose across my cheek. My heart slammed against my chest when he rested his forehead against mine.

“Are you breathing?”

“No.”

Gabe smiled. “Don’t pass out.”

“I’ll try not to. I—are you gonna kiss me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I think so,” I replied in a raspy tone.

“I can’t kiss you if you aren’t sure.”

His words were laced with the perfect amount of humor. I let out a half chuckle and nodded. “I think I’m sure.”

He tsked and shook his head. “Not good enough. You have to be one hundred percent, absolutely, positi—”

I grabbed Gabe’s face and crashed my mouth over his. He grunted in response but recovered quickly, threading his fingers through my hair. I licked his lips in a wordless request for entry, then glided my tongue alongside his. He moaned into the connection, angling his head as he gripped my shoulders before pulling me on top of him. I didn’t break stride. I twisted my tongue with his, pausing to nibble his lips before capturing his mouth again.

He felt amazing underneath me. This was new in every way possible. He was taller than me with a slightly thicker build. I’d never been chest to chest, draped over another man, or had strong arms wrap around me, holding me close. But I liked it. I ran one hand along his side and arched my back, accidentally rubbing my jean-clad erection against his.

I broke the kiss and sucked in a gulp of fresh air. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“It feels better without the jeans,” he purred, biting my chin playfully.

I scrambled off him and held out my hand. “Come with me.”

We hurried down the short hallway to my bedroom, closed the door, and came together like a couple of magnets. I set my arms over Gabe’s shoulders and walked him backward until he hit the mattress. He kissed me frantically with his hands splayed on my ass. My breath hitched when he tilted his hips and rocked his pelvis against mine.

Gabe didn’t pause to ask if I liked it this time. He knew. He unbuttoned my shirt and then pulled the fabric from my jeans. I did the same for him. I tried, anyway. My hands were shaking like crazy. I’d never wanted anything or anyone as much as I wanted him. And when he rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger while he tongue-fucked my mouth, need and desire became a fiery, visceral thing. I didn’t just want him. I had to have him.

I pushed the red-and-blue striped duvet to the end of my queen-sized bed before shrugging my shirt off my shoulders. I automatically reached for my belt buckle but stopped to give him a searching look.

“Is this okay?” I asked.

“Fuck, yeah,” Gabe choked.

He pulled at my belt loop and batted my hands away, expertly threading the leather before unbuttoning my jeans. He paused to stare into my eyes, with his fingers on my zipper.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

Gabe slowly lowered my zipper and pushed the denim over my ass. Then he squeezed my cheeks through my boxer briefs and jutted his hips forward in a manic quest for friction. His heavy breathing and twitchy fingers indicated he was in the same frantic condition as me.

“Lie down, Der.”

I turned on the lamp next to my bed, then sat on the edge of the mattress and kicked off my shoes before shucking my jeans aside. My boxer briefs left nothing to the imagination, but the scrap of cotton covering my junk represented a last barrier. A gentle reminder that I could change my mind at any moment. Maybe he’d lie beside me and I’d finally snap out of this trance. Maybe this was a prolonged bi-curious episode and not the sexual awakening I thought it might be.

Fuck, I hoped not.

My mouth went dry the moment he pushed his shirt over his shoulders. He was a god. His smooth olive skin and perfectly toned abs were a thing of beauty. He dropped his shirt on the floor, then gave me a sultry smile as he unbuckled his belt. I licked my lips hungrily. The sight of a bare-chested Gabe with his jeans undone made me feel dizzy. It took everything I had not to reach for my cock and jack myself when he unzipped and then lowered his jeans and stepped out of them.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” I whispered without thinking.

Gabe grinned as he climbed onto the bed. He stretched out beside me, rolled to his side, and set his hand on my hip.

“So are you.” He put his finger on my lips before I could argue. “Shh. Is this okay?”

I nodded, loving that he’d repeated my question. He was nervous too. “Yes, but…we could do more.”

“Like what?”

I let out an amused huff. “Dude, I have no fucking clue. Don’t ask me what comes next.”

“Such a smartass,” he teased, reaching out to trace my eyebrow. “Kiss me.”

“Yes,” I agreed, sidling closer to him.

Gabe met me halfway and pressed his lips against mine. I sighed into the sweet connection. I loved the hint of scruff on his chin and the heat of his body. He seemed to know exactly how much pressure to apply. Not too hard and never too soft. The only problem was my insatiable craving for more. I waited for him to plunge his tongue into my mouth and take over, but he seemed content to go slowly. Maybe he wanted me to make a move.

I flattened my hand over his right pec, then let it drift to his hip before pulling him against me and nudging my knee between his thighs. Gabe hummed his approval and sprang into action. He cupped the back of my head and drove his tongue inside as he rolled on top of me. We broke the kiss with a gasp of pleasure. He was rock hard, and I was throbbing with need. Our combined arousal was a heady thing. And when he shifted his weight so his cock slid alongside mine, I was ready for more.

Gabe slid his fingers under the elastic of my briefs and eyed me cautiously.

I tilted my head in acquiescence. “Keep going.”

He rose above me and sat back on his heels. Then he slowly lowered the fabric over my shaft. He glanced up at me reverently, licking his lips in a show of approval when I lifted my hips and pushed my briefs out of the way. I plucked at his until he got the message.

“Take them off me,” he commanded in a husky tone.

I obeyed without question. I splayed my hands over his ass, arched my back, and rubbed my bare cock against his. An electric current went through me. I’d never felt anything like it. Just looking at us…naked and hard for each other, was like a dream. And when his precum dripped onto my shaft, I shivered.

Gabe braced his weight on one hand and gripped his dick and tapped it against mine.

I set my feet on the mattress and bucked my hips upward, wordlessly looking for more of everything. “Oh, fuck. Can I touch you?”

“You don’t have to ask, Der. You can do whatever you want,” he assured me, bending to capture my mouth in a rough kiss.

The extra spark in the connection gave me the courage to do exactly as he suggested. I reached between us and for the first time in my life, I touched another man’s rigid cock. Gabe pulled back slightly and nodded in encouragement.

“You’re big,” I commented, wrapping my fingers around his girth. I tested his length and thickness before stroking him languidly. “Does this feel good?”

“Yeah. Really good,” he choked. “Let me…let me touch you too.”

I might have actually whimpered when he gripped me firmly and squeezed. And when he brushed his thumb over my slit and smeared precum over the mushroom head, then jacked my cock like a pro, I cried out. Gabe kissed me again. Probably to shut me up. I didn’t mind at all. This fucking gorgeous man with his tongue in my mouth hovering over me with his hand on my dick, stroking me while I did the same to him…this was heaven. When he increased the pressure just a tad, I felt a familiar tingle at the base of my spine and knew I wouldn’t last long.

“Gabe, I’m—I’m close,” I said, breaking the kiss.

He bit my bottom lip, then slid down my chest and kneeled between my thighs. He took over stroking both of us, twisting his wrist at each turn. I wanted to comment on his technique, but I couldn’t speak coherently. I let him take over. I’d happily go wherever he led at that moment. Though I had to admit I was shocked when he leaned down and swallowed me whole.

I’d been on the receiving end of my share of blowjobs but nothing like this. Gabe knew what he was doing. He pulled back to lick me from base to tip, sucking the head of my cock while he kneaded my balls. Then he glanced up at me briefly and angled his head to take more of me. I pulled his hair and lifted my hips rhythmically. When he moved his hand from the inside of my thigh and brushed his thumb over the sensitive skin above my hole, I couldn’t hold on.

My orgasm washed over me in a fierce wave. It was too late to warn Gabe. He pulled back but not quite in time. Cum shot across his bottom lip and his chin, then my stomach. I started to apologize for the lack of notice, but I couldn’t catch my breath. Just when I thought I could speak, Gabe kneeled above me, jacking his cock like crazy. He came with a roar a moment later. He closed his eyes and shook like a leaf, holding my knee for purchase until he regained control. Then he opened his eyes and grinned. My heart somersaulted and burst with joy. I laughed at the exhilarating sense of lightness. I felt like I was soaring through clouds and yet grounded and safe at the same time.

We were cautious with each other afterward, as though we sensed the fragility in this new thing between us. We cleaned up together in the bathroom. I ran the shower and gestured for him to go first. He held a towel for me when I stepped out and motioned for me to turn so he could dry my back. The simple gesture conjured a new round of butterflies. I didn’t know why I was nervous to touch him after what we’d done. But I was pathetically grateful he had no such reservations. When we fell back onto my bed naked, it didn’t feel weird to curl up next to him.

“Are you thirsty?” I whispered.

“No, I’m all right. Are you?”

“Yeah. I mean…I’m not thirsty. I—this feels strange. We just…you know.” I gestured between us manically.

“Had sex,” he supplied.

I frowned as I propped my head on my elbow. “But we didn’t…you know…do it.”

“Fuck?” Gabe chuckled. “True. But I sucked your dick, and that’s definitely a form of doing it.”

I lowered my head to hide my blush, then nodded. “That was hot. I—how did we get here?”

He set his thumb under my chin and gave me a searching look. “Are you okay with this? Do you want me to go?”

“No,” I replied swiftly. “Stay.”

“Just so you know…we’re not doing anything wrong. It might be complicated, but it’s not wrong.”

“Which part is complicated?”

“We’re teammates. I’ve never been with a guy who plays the same sport as me. Ever.”

I nodded in agreement, though at that moment being in the same sport and on the same team was the least of my worries. I was buck-ass naked in bed with a man. A really fucking sexy man.

“Who have you been with? Have you had boyfriends?” I widened my eyes dramatically before continuing, “Do you have one now?”

“No, dummy. I don’t have a boyfriend.” Gabe smoothed my hair and then tugged it playfully. “You’re cute when you get anxious. You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m not anx—fine. I’m anxious.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I am too.”

“It helps,” I admitted. “But you’ve been here before, right?”

“Yes, but it’s been awhile. I had a boyfriend my senior year of high school and another one last year.”

“Oh. What about girls?”

“I’ve been with a few but nothing serious. Most of my real relationships have been with guys. The last one was probably the most serious I’d ever been with anyone. We broke up six months ago and…it sucked.”

“What was his name?” I asked for no particular reason.

“Marco.”

Great. I hated Marco.

“What happened?”

“He graduated and he wanted to come out. It was kind of our plan, but I…I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready. I’d just made the national team, and I couldn’t throw away my chance at a shot to go to the Olympics. The Olympics are a couple of years away still. I thought he’d be cool waiting a little longer, but…he wasn’t.” Gabe shrugged with faux nonchalance.

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. It’s old news.”

“I thought you switched schools to be closer to where the national team practices,” I said, frowning.

“That was part of it. Marco was the other part.”

“Oh.” I bit my lower lip, confused by the sting of jealousy. “Who else knows you’re bi?”

“My mom. That’s it.”

“And she’s cool with it?”

Gabe let out a half laugh. “She says she is, but I think she hopes this is my bi-curioso phase.”

I smiled wanly. “It’s not?”

“Doubtful. Lately I’ve been thinking I’m gay. I’m just not as turned-on by girls. My efforts never work out for me the way they do for my straight friends. Chelsea’s party is a great example. I kissed your ex at the beginning of the night but ended up with your jizz all over my underwear.”

“Jizz? That’s such a gross word,” I said primly.

“Do you like cum better?”

“That’s kind of gross too.”

“All right. How about semen?”

I snickered. “Too clinical.”

“Picky, picky. Spunk? Love glue? Cock snot?”

I threw my head back on the pillow and burst into laughter. “Cock snot?”

Gabe waggled his brows, then leaned in and bit my bottom lip. “Well, I gave you choices. Which one?”

“Cum is fine.”

He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “Your cum tastes amazing.”

“Oh, my God. I’m not ready for cum talk,” I groused, closing my eyes.

Gabe chuckled, scooting closer to me so his half-hard cock rested against mine. He squeezed my ass until I looked at him. “I’ll be good. I don’t want to scare you away now. I’ve had a crush on you for a while. I figured you were straight and that I never had a chance. To be here with you right now…this is fucking amazing.”

“Yeah. It is,” I agreed. We stared at each other with matching sappy smiles for a moment until I added, “We’re not telling anyone, right? I mean, you’re not out and I—”

“Did you want to come out?” he asked, looking slightly alarmed.

“No way! I’m not ready. I need some time to adjust. I’m assuming you want to keep quiet too.”

“Yeah. I need to keep my head down and play well. No personal drama.”

“Do you really think anyone cares?”

“Some might. My dad would for sure. I want to say I don’t care, but I’m not ready to deal with the bullshit.”

“That works for me. We can find excuses to be together…I mean, if you want,” I added.

“I want,” he said in a sultry tone that turned me inside out.

I traced his lip with the tip of my finger and whimpered when he sucked the digit greedily. “Mmm. I—can we do it again?”

He chuckled, then hooked his leg over my thigh and pumped his hips. “Fuck, yeah.”

I moaned with pleasure at the renewed friction and sealed my mouth over his as Gabe rolled on top of me. I’d never given up control to a lover, but I instinctively let Gabe lead. I liked the feel of his weight. He was strong yet lithe. He moved over me forcefully, the way he did in the water. But here I could give in and let go.

And something in that surrender felt like my first true taste of freedom.