LUKE
Holy shit. What am I doing? What did I just agree to?
I swing myself off the bed, reaching for my jeans that are pooled on the floor. Sam shifts behind me, and I pause for a moment before glancing at him over my shoulder.
He’s sitting there, his black hair mussed and T-shirt crinkled, half-smiling, half-frowning at the duvet on his lap. Almost thirty or not, he still looks so young to be a dad. Sometimes I wish for him that things had been different, that he’d had a chance to live more of his own life and figure out who he is.
If he had, maybe he’d have done all this experimenting already, and I wouldn’t be sitting here chastising myself for agreeing to be his taboo thing. And I wouldn’t be so excited about it either.
It’s better to have and lose than never have at all, right?
At least this way, I’ll know he’s safe and he’ll be taken care of. Because I will be careful, and considerate, and even though he won’t know it, I’ll be giving him more than sex—every time I touch him it will be with love.
What about afterwards? What about when he’s finished and he doesn’t love you back? I suppress my fears.
Sam looks up at me and I go back to putting my jeans on.
“We’ve got Jeremy’s game today,” I say, trying to distract myself from the impulse to spin around, leap on him, and drag my lips over every sweet inch of his body. “You’d better get your butt out of bed.”
He looks a little disappointed, but he gets out of bed.
Things are a little tense between us as we prepare ourselves for Jeremy’s game, like both our nerves are strung tight in anticipation of what’s going to happen next.
I can hardly focus on driving and twice Sam’s asked me to either speed up or slow down. I try rolling my shoulders to make myself relax, but nothing seems to be working.
At least Sam seems to be just as wound up. He keeps fidgeting with his seatbelt and humming under his breath.
When we get caught in a spot of traffic, I look over to find him watching me. He blinks quickly and then looks toward the radio. “Music?”
I nod and drum my thumbs on the steering wheel. “Sure.”
Neither of us speak until we arrive at Kresley Intermediate. We get out of the car, and I come around the front, asking Sam to grab the balls.
Sam freezes. “I know I want to be wild,” he says in hushed tones. “But not that wild. We’re at a school.”
What the . . .? And then I get it. I crack up so loud and so hard, it has Sam frowning. When I jerk my finger to the soccer balls and gear in the bed of the truck, he swears and reddens.
“Well,” he says, chuckling at himself. “Guess it’s clear where my mind’s at.”
And that’s the moment it happens.
The moment I don’t think.
I lean over and kiss him gently on the mouth. Just a short, soft kiss, before I reach into the truck and yank out the soccer balls.
It’s only when I turn and take a few steps that it dawns on me what I’ve just done.
Yes, we agreed to experiment, but I’m pretty sure that didn’t include chaste kisses during the in-between times.
I swallow the sudden nausea rising up my throat as I turn back to him.
Sam has a cute frown cutting his brow and two of his fingers are touching his lips. He looks so lost and confused, I want to gather him up and keep him tight in my arms until he feels sure of things again.
“Uh,” he says, “is that part of the deal?”
“Well . . .” I drift off and shrug. I’m thankful we’re here before anyone else and I’ve not made an even bigger fool of myself. “Do you want it to be?”
“I don’t . . . know. Maybe it’s better if it’s only us that know we’re fooling around? It might, you know, bring up too many questions. Though . . . maybe it might help Jeremy feel comfortable about coming out?” He answers himself by shaking his head. “But I think he’ll just think it’s too weird, Luke. Because it’s you.”
I’m nodding. Nodding way more than I should be, but I can’t seem to stop. I know if I do, I won’t be able to keep my eyes from tearing up. “Yeah, sure. I get it.”
A van comes into the parking lot; one glance at it, and I know Carole is here with half of Jeremy’s team.
Sam follows my gaze, turns around, and waves. I want to go up and say hello to everyone. I know I should. But I need some space for a few moments.
I hitch the bag of soccer balls and gear over my shoulder and make for the field to set up.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’m stupid for doing this. So Goddamn, out-of-my-mind stupid!
I try thinking of a way to pull out of this whole experiment thing, but then I remember that Sam will find someone else if I don’t. And I can’t stand the thought of him with any other guy but me.
I yank out a knot in the soccer nets. No effing way, ever. I’ll just man the hell up and not let my feelings get the better of me.
“Oy, Luke!”
Jack strides across the field in his striped black-and-white ref’s T-shirt. Mine is lying somewhere under the balls with my whistle.
“Jack.” I incline my head and get back to setting up the goals.
He comes over and helps me. He must read my mood, because he doesn’t say anything. At least, he doesn’t until we’ve finished preparing the field and the two soccer teams are gathering at the sidelines.
“Should I even ask?” he says, his gaze lingering on Sam pacing the side of the field with his thumbs hitched in his pockets.
I let out a rough laugh. “Perhaps not. I’m a fool though, that much is true.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, coming over to me and clapping his hand on my back, “but you’re a fool in love. It’s forgivable.”
I turn to Jack and his caring, soft gaze, and I wish I could love him back the way he once wanted me to. It would be so much easier having my feelings reciprocated. I clear the small lump in my throat. “Thanks, man.”
He pulls a whistle from his pocket and loops the cord over his head. “No probs.”
“And cheers for reffing.”
“You owe me lunch sometime.”
I grin as I dig for my ref shirt. “Sure thing.”
“Now get your gear on, and let’s get this game rolling.”
* * *
The game is a close match. Both teams have talent and enough cockiness to power a stadium. Jeremy and Steven really show off their skills in the first half, but after a nasty tackle, Steven is thrown off his game.
At the break, I go over and draw him aside. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”
He tries to hide it, but the pain echoes in his face as he walks.
“Is it a pull? Or did you twist something?”
Jeremy is looking over at us, frowning, and I think he knows as well as I do his friend is hurt. I don’t care if it costs them the game, though, I have to take him off the field.
When I tell him so, he protests, but not for long.
“Crap, Mr. Luke. He pushed me, you saw it.”
“Yeah, and he was yellow carded. But you can be sure Jack and I will be watching you all for any other offenses. You know I don’t tolerate nastiness on the field. With that in mind, you make sure you tell Darryl to watch his mouth.”
Simon from defense comes up to us. He’s looking down at Steven’s ankle. “Man, are you okay? Jeremy’s mum has some ice packs, maybe you should put one on.”
I notice the way Steven freezes at Simon’s approach. “Um, yeah,” Steven mumbles. “Okay.”
Steven hobbles away toward Carole, who’s smiling and beckoning him over. It strikes me as odd that Simon is the one offering to take some of his weight and get him over there, and Jeremy . . . doesn’t.
Is it because Jeremy doesn’t want to be too close in case he gives himself away? Or is there something else going on?
Jack calling me breaks my train of thought. “Shall we get back out there and get this game done?”
I check the time and nod. Pulling the whistle to my lips, I blow it to get the second half started. Then I grin at Jack. “Let’s.”