I woke up with Lachlan’s scent on my sheets, even though he’d left hours before.

By unspoken agreement, we never spent the night together despite the fact that our relationship was progressing fast. In fact, outside of my teammates, Lachlan was the only person I spent time with, and he’d indicated he wasn’t seeing anyone else either.

I’d never been in a committed, monogamous relationship before, much less a gay one, so this whole dating thing was … enlightening.

For years, I’d done my own thing—went where I wanted, when I wanted—but now, Lachlan and I checked-in with each other frequently throughout the week to see where schedules synced up so we could spend time together. Unfortunately, between training and my weekly matches, paired with the six nights a week he spent at CAMP, more often than not our “dates” consisted of a quick mid-afternoon meal or a late-night booty call, minus the booty.

Sometimes it felt like a massive amount of effort for what amounted to a hookup. A mind blowing, toe curling, orgasm-inducing hookup, to be sure, but a hookup nonetheless.

Strangely, I found myself wanting … more.

More time with him, more conversations, more flirting, more banter.

Just … more of him, any way I could get him.

Which meant it was time for us to figure out how we could be seen in public together without setting off any alarms.

Rolling over, I undocked my phone from its charging station and checked the time. It was still early, but Lachlan had had an even earlier meeting with one of his suppliers. I doubted he’d gone back upstairs and crashed afterward. The more likely scenario was that he was sitting at the desk in his tiny office, mainlining coffee and going over his accounts.

Opening my messaging app, I chewed on my lip and tapped out a quick hello.

Liam: Good morning.

Lachlan: Morning yourself.

Liam: Do I sound like a needy asshole if I tell you I can still smell you on my sheets and I wish you were here instead of back at your place?

Lachlan: Only if I sound like a needy asshole for admitting that I kicked myself the entire way home. I should have stayed.

Liam: Yes, you should have. I could have woken you up with a blowjob. I’m starving.

Lachlan: You’re always starving.

Liam: #truth

Three little dots danced on my screen but then disappeared. I held my breath, waiting for them to appear again. Eventually, Lachlan’s message popped up.

Lachlan: I feel like maybe … I don’t know. Shit, never mind.

I grinned, picturing him running his hand through his hair, his palm resting on top of his head with his dark locks gripped between his fingers. I didn’t know if he knew this about himself, but it’s what he did whenever he wanted to say something but was at a loss for words.

Liam: I’m calling you.

I opened up my contacts and navigated to my favorites list. It still gave me an odd thrill to see Lachlan’s name listed above Declan’s, Aidan’s, and Brienne’s. Suffice it to say, I didn’t have a lot of favorite people in my life. Many, many acquaintances, but no one I counted among my real friends.

And even though Lachlan and I were blowing each other on the regular, and engaging in some very satisfying rounds of mutual masturbation, at the heart of everything, that’s what he was.

Hell, maybe he was something even more than that.

I clicked his name and brought my phone to my ear. Two quick rings later, he answered.

“Hey there.”

“Hey.”

“So, I—”

“—I was thinking.”

We each laughed, and I said, “Why don’t you go first.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, alright.” I listened to the sound of Lachlan pulling in a breath, and then he said, “So, I ran into an old friend this morning, and he asked if I wanted to get together later.”

His voice shook with nerves, and immediately I knew this person wasn’t just any old, ordinary friend. There was something more at play here.

“Okay,” I said, drawing the word out longer than its two syllables required, my heart kicking violently in my chest in reaction to the unspoken meaning behind his statement. “I’m assuming this is a friend like you and I are friends?”

“Definitely not like you and I are friends,” he answered quickly, and the tension in my shoulders lessened. “I mean …” Lachlan cleared his throat, and I knew I wasn’t going to enjoy whatever he said next.

“A guy you dated?” Unfortunately, my question made me sound like a jealous asshole.

“Not dated, exactly,” he answered. “At least, not like you and I are dating.”

To hear him say that what he’d had with this guy was different from what we had together eased some of my anxiety. But knowing Lachlan was still in contact with someone he’d fucked—and that the guy wanted another go at him—provoked an unexpected jolt of jealousy so powerful that it momentarily robbed me of breath.

How come this random dude got to be with Lachlan that way and I didn’t? We’d been seeing each other for awhile, and we still hadn’t had sex. Whenever I’d ask why we were waiting, he’d smile and tell me we had all the time in the world. In the meantime, we’d been getting each other off with our hands, mouths, and a whole lot of not-quite-dry humping.

“Someone you’ve fucked then?” I whispered when I finally found my voice again.

“Yeah, someone I used to fuck,” he admitted with a pained groan.

“And how long ago was that?”

“Why? You jealous?”

I heard the smile in his voice, and it raised my hackles. “That sounds a whole hell of a lot like you want me to be jealous.”

“I don’t, but …”

“But what?” I bit out.

“God, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he began with a protracted sigh. “The truth is, sometimes I don’t know where I stand with you, and you being jealous over a guy I fucked a few times more than a year ago makes me think you might actually care.”

“Of course, I care,” I answered quickly. “Do you think I’d risk my whole reputation otherwise?”

“That’s just it though,” he murmured. “You aren’t. Or rather, you haven’t.”

From the very beginning, Lachlan had said he wouldn’t ever be another man’s plaything; that he wouldn’t go back in the closet for me. And yet, that’s precisely what he’d done—no questions asked. Our chemistry was explosive, and the desire we had for one another had been able to mask the reality of our situation temporarily, but we’d been sneaking around for weeks now, and it was clear we’d both grown wary of it. All this subterfuge wasn’t sexy anymore. It was just … so damn tiring.

I might not be able to hold Lachlan’s hand in public or kiss him the way I wanted to, but he deserved better than what I’d given him thus far. Shit, I deserved better too.

I dropped my head back against the padded headboard with a quiet groan. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said, staring at myself in the mirror across the room. Even from here, I could see my eyes were bloodshot, and it’d been a few days since I’d last shaved. Between the bags under my eyes and the patchy stubble dotting my jaw, I looked haggard. That’s what happened, I supposed, when you devoted every waking minute to making up for lost time.

I closed my eyes and started speaking. “I was hoping we could hang out on Sunday. You know, maybe go to a movie or something.”

“A movie?” he clarified, his voice cautious.

“Like a date or something.”

“A date?”

“Yeah, you know, that thing where two people who like each other go somewhere together and do something other than lying about all day giving each other a fuck ton of orgasms.”

On the other end of the line, Lachlan chuckled, and the tension in my chest unfurled.

“Not that I don’t like coming until I pass out, mind you,” I continued, “but I want you to know this isn’t just about sex for me.” I took a deep breath and released it. “When I said I wanted to be with you, I meant it. And that means beyond our respective beds. I want to hang out with you, learn more than just the noises you make when I’ve got your dick in my mouth. Hence, a date … like a normal couple.”

“Is that what we are, a couple?”

From the tone of his voice I could tell my little speech had affected him, but he was still careful not to get his hopes up.And yet, I wanted his hopes up. I wanted him to want me just as badly as I wanted him. I wanted his gut to churn with worry if I ever mentioned running into an old fuck buddy.

But I also knew wanting all that was unfair, because I could never give Lachlan as much of myself as he could give to me. As long as I was a closeted bisexual, there would always be that barrier between us. But even so, I wanted to give him all the parts of me that I could, while I could.

“I’d like us to be,” I answered solemnly. “I know it won’t be easy for you to … ehm … have a boyfriend who’s not publicly out—” I scratched my cheek self-consciously, even though he couldn’t see it “—but I’ll do my best to do right by you. No one’s ever made me feel the way you do, Lach, and I want to see where this goes.”

The line was silent for several long seconds. If I hadn’t been able to hear the sound of his breathing echoing lightly in my ear, I might have thought he’d hung up.

As it was, I sat there silently and waited for his reply.

“Yeah,” he breathed out eventually. “A movie sounds great.”

* * *

I grabbed the half-empty tub of salty, buttery popcorn resting in Lachlan’s lap and stood. Winking at him, I joked, “When I asked if you wanted to see a movie, I didn’t think you’d pick a chick flick.”

“Fuck you,” Lachlan replied, stretching his arms above his head to reveal a hint of skin between the bottom of his shirt and the waist of his jeans. When I dragged my eyes up, he smirked knowingly and said, “Wonder Woman is a feminist icon.”

“So, you’re a feminist now?”

He grinned and shrugged. “Okay, you got me. But Gal Gadot is the finest fucking lass on the planet.”

“Come again?”

“You should see your face right now,” he smirked. “I’m gay, Liam. Not blind.”

He stepped to the side so I could pass him in the aisle, and we made our way toward the exit.

“About that,” I said, scratching my temple and wondering if I should even bring it up.

When I failed to continue, Lachlan leaned close and nudged my shoulder with his. We were at one of those theaters that played second-run movies, and besides us, only four other people were making their way to the exit. Even so, this wasn’t the type of conversation you had at full volume while out in public.

“Yes, I’ve slept with women,” he whispered without me having to ask the question.

It freaked me out sometimes the way Lachlan could so easily read my mind.

“It’s not that I disliked the experience,” he explained, “Once I knew what my options were, I just preferred men.”

Stopping to toss the remaining popcorn in the garbage, he turned to me and asked, “What about you? When did you know you were bi?”

Quickly, I glanced around to make sure no one had overheard him, but the lobby was mostly dead, save the guy who worked the concession stand and two customers waiting for him to acknowledge their presence. I doubted he’d heard Lachlan, but even if his voice had carried that far, it was apparent the guy wasn’t listening. His eyes were glued to his phone while his customers eyed him warily, waiting for him to help them.

I sucked down the last gulp of my drink to give me time to formulate an answer to the question. It wasn’t that I didn’t know the exact moment I’d realized that I liked guys too; I’d just never admitted it out loud before now. Even when I’d come out to Declan, I hadn’t discussed it.

I tossed the empty cup in the garbage and scrubbed a hand down my face, the smell of fake butter lodging in my nostrils. “If you ever tell anyone I copped to this, I’ll break your knees.”

“Duly noted,” Lachlan answered, pushing the door wide so I could precede him out into the freezing November afternoon.

Once outside, we turned in tandem toward where Lachlan had parked his car. Briefly, I brushed my hand against his and linked our pinkies for a second before pulling away.

Lachlan’s eyes dropped to his hand, and his mouth hitched to the side in a small, happy smile.

We were well outside the city, so the chance of us running into anyone we knew—or being recognized by someone we didn’t—was slim to none, but I wasn’t ready to press my luck just yet. Still, touching him in a way that was not platonic while out in public gave me a tiny thrill. For that one brief moment, I could picture what it would be like to be able to grab his hand and hold onto it while we walked down the street together.

I didn’t know if we’d ever get there, but it was nice to imagine it.

Clearing my throat, I took up my story where I’d left off. “I had my first kiss when I was six. Her name was Molly, and she was eight.”

“An older woman,” he teased.

“Yes, and with heaps more experience than me. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on your perspective—Molly was quite dissatisfied with my performance. Two days later she was sent home from school after being caught kissing Patrick Kelly.”

“Scandalous.”

“Very,” I agreed with a grin. “Anyway, after the notorious Molly, I didn’t kiss anyone until I was thirteen. I was at this birthday party, and we were all playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. When it was my turn, I had to go in the closet with this cute girl named Claire. Let’s just say after the initial awkward two minutes passed, the remaining five were very good.”

Lachlan chuckled. “The one time I played, I got locked in with my friend’s dopey cousin. I can’t even remember her name, but she had braces, and there was a piece of pepperoni or something stuck in them. I kissed her cheek, and she told everyone that I’d touched her boob.” He shrugged and said, “You win some; you lose some, I guess.”

“Would you have kissed her if she hadn’t had that pepperoni?”

“Sure, why not? Kissing’s fun.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “When we get home, want to lock ourselves in the closet—”

Immediately, my cheeks heated, and not with desire. While he’d been joking around about the literal closet, there was no getting away from the fact that I was firmly locked in the proverbial one. And the only way we could be together was if he locked himself inside with me.

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “You were saying?”

I stole a quick glance at Lachlan, but all I saw was interest in my story. If he was pissed or upset over the accidental reminder of what our relationship had to be, he was hiding it.

“Anyhow,” I began, “Fast forward a couple of years, and this kid Daniel transferred to my school from the US. I imagine him being American was part of it, but I was obsessed with him. I taught him about rugby, while he tried to convince me American football was the superior sport. Through all our bickering, we eventually became friends.”

“Uh oh,” Lachlan muttered perceptively.

“Yeah, uh oh,” I agreed, shaking my head at the memory of how badly I’d lusted after someone I wasn’t supposed to.

“What happened?” Lachlan asked when I failed to continue.

Stalling, I cupped my hands and blew into them to help keep them warm. We were still a couple of blocks from where we’d parked, and as the sun began to set, it was getting colder and colder.

“One day,” I said, shoving my hands into my coat pockets, “we were hanging out at his house and, for whatever reason, he decided to pull out the box of contraband porn his brother had stashed away in the attic before he’d left for university.”

Lachlan groaned and shook his head. “I can guess where this is going.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, oldest story in the book. The thing is though, I know straight guys who’ve jacked it with a buddy sitting next to them while watching porn without getting so fucking turned on by the idea of their friend reaching over and touching their dick that they wanted to cry from frustration.”

“Ah, shit. That must have freaked you out.”

I nodded. “It was … confusing. I mean, I’m sitting there with my dick in my hand, and this woman on the television is screaming ‘fuck me harder!’ while this harry bloke plows her pussy into oblivion. I tried to keep my eyes on the TV, but all I wanted to do was watch Daniel. Nothing on that screen was as compelling to me as finding out how he liked to be touched.” I let out a long, drawn-out breath, my body hot and tense as I relived that night all over again.

Lachlan’s palm found my shoulder, and he squeezed once before dragging it away. “Did he ever find out?”

“Yeah,” I answered as we came alongside his car. “That jerk session led to another, which led to another until that’s pretty much all we did whenever his parents weren’t home—which was a lot of the time. This one night, we were sitting in the dark cleaning ourselves up, when out of nowhere he asked if I was gay.”

“Fuck.”

I nodded. “And, of course, I panicked because I wanted Daniel, so obviously that meant I must be a little bit gay, which was terrifying. But then, on the flip side, I’d lost my virginity a few months before that and I also really liked fucking girls.

“The thing was, I didn’t have any context for being bisexual until much later. On TV and in movies, especially in Ireland, no one was bi, and when you did see a gay guy, they were super flamboyant. All I could think when confronted with that stereotype was, ‘That’s not me. I play sports and like girls.’

“I think I was nineteen before I met a gay man who was just … normal. And I hate even saying that because that implies the default for being a gay man is abnormal, and it’s absolutely not.” I groaned, and speared my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots.

I leaned against Lachlan’s car, and he joined me, our bodies mere inches apart. My hands fell to my side, and again, my fingers brushed alongside his. This time, when I linked our fingers, I let them linger.

We were silent for a good long while before he asked, “What did you say to him?”

I blew out a breath and shook my head in disgust. “I ended up muttering some nonsense about how I couldn’t possibly be gay because I had a girlfriend. Daniel just stared at me with pity.

“Which just pissed me off. So now, on top of being panicked, I was also angry, and I started hurling accusations at him, saying how he must be gay since it was his idea for us to watch porn together in the first place. And do you know what how he responded?”

Lachlan shook his head.

“He just laughed and said ‘well, duh.’ That was it. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like it wasn’t a big fucking deal to come out to the guy who’d slept on the floor next to your bed probably a hundred times, and for about fifty of those times had fantasized about what it would be like to crawl into bed next to you.

“And then, as I sat there dumbfounded—completely and utterly speechless—he just flopped back down on the sofa and turned on a rerun of Father Ted.”

“Wow,” Lachlan said. “That’s … shit. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sorry to unload on you like this,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve never talked to anyone about this.”

“It’s okay,” he said, squeezing my hand in a show of support. “I’m glad you’re telling me. It helps me understand where you’re coming from a bit more.”

I squeezed back and said, “Daniel’s family moved back to America six months later.”

“Did you guys stay friends?”

“Nah, once he left it was almost like he’d never even been there.”

“No, before he left.”

“That’s the strange part about this whole story,” I answered with an astonished laugh. “We did. We never watched porn together again, but we still hung out whenever I wasn’t playing rugby, and I even slept over sometimes still. He never brought that night up, and neither did I. It didn’t mean I didn’t wonder every fucking day though if I’d missed my shot.”

“Were you in love with him?”

“Fuck, who knows?” I answered. “Maybe? I’d always admired the hell out of him, and I certainly desired him; as much as I could guess something like that would entail.”

“My guess is if you had hooked up with him, it’d look a whole hell of a lot like what you and I do together.”

I unlinked our fingers and crossed my arms over my chest. Turning to face Lachlan I asked, “When did you know?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and scuffed the toe of his boot through the leaves at our feet.

“It just sort of happened,” he answered, refusing to meet my stare. “The first time was on a dare. A bunch of us were stoned, and someone bet me a fifty quid I wouldn’t suck my friend’s cock. Everyone laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard, but I never backed down from a dare, and suddenly I was curious what it would be like. I’d never given much thought to my sexuality. Up until then, I’d only fucked girls because those were the opportunities that presented themselves.

“But when I raised my eyebrow at PK in silent invitation, he slapped his hands on his thighs, pushed up out of his seat, and made his way toward me, unzipping his jeans. He didn’t say a word, just stared down at me with glazed eyes and a lazy grin as I took him in my mouth. A few minutes later, he came down my throat while our friends cheered him on.

“As I swallowed, I realized how fucking turned on I was. I couldn’t remember ever being that hard before in my life. He fucked me later that night, and I liked it, so I let him keep on fucking me until he nearly overdosed and his parents made him move home to Glasgow.”

When he finished speaking, Lachlan raised challenging eyes to mine. “Not quite the same as yours and Daniel’s unrequited love.”

“No, not quite,” I answered, my voice subdued.

It was easy to forget Lachlan’s past since he was so unlike the young man he’d just described. Sometimes, when I’d remember he’d been a drug addict who’d led a very promiscuous and dangerous life, I had to pinch myself. The thing was, these weren’t just stories I heard about some nameless, faceless person; they’d been Lachlan’s life, and those experiences were a huge part of who he was today.

“Have you ever …” I started to ask, but then halted mid-question. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

But like he always seemed to be able to do, Lachlan read my mind. He shook his head, and his mouth turned down in a frown. Clapping his hand on my shoulder, he shook his head and said, “I didn’t love PK, not like you loved Daniel. And no, I’ve never loved any of the others either.”

We stared at each other for a few beats, our eyes locked. In that moment, I wanted to say so many things. I wanted to tell Lachlan that I wish I’d had the courage to be with Daniel because if I had, I might now be out and proud like he was. And if I were, we wouldn’t have to hide our feelings for one another. I wanted to explain how wanting someone with every fiber of your being was both the most wonderful and most excruciating thing imaginable, and that I wished his first experience hadn’t been because he was high and bored because then he might understand what I felt when I looked at him now.

But most of all, I wanted to tell him that when we eventually fucked, I was going to worship his body as it had never been worshipped before. I had every intention of erasing all the random men and one-night stands who’d come before. And years from now, when he looked back on our time together, his eyes wouldn’t be haunted. When he described his time with me the way he’d just told me about PK, he wouldn’t have this tight, pinched look on his face.

No, he’d smile fondly and say, “Yeah, I think I loved him.”

But I didn’t say any of that.

Instead, I shivered and said, “Fuck, it’s freezing. Let’s get out of here.”