“This isn’t going to make any sense to you, but the only way I can explain it is my gut sent me to Chicago.”
“Your gut … because Chicago has such great pizza?”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” Talon, for once, is not in the joking mood, and that’s even more confusing than anything else that’s happened this last month.
“No, I think I understand,” I say. “It’s like on the field. You’ve got a sixth sense out there. It’s impressive … and annoying as hell.”
He backhands my arm.
“Hey, asshole, I’m injured here,” I complain.
“Didn’t realize your hamstring’s in your biceps. Guess I should’ve paid more attention in anatomy in school.”
“Oh, I’m sure you paid attention. Just to the wrong anatomy.”
He smiles. “You’re gonna be fine. Next season, we’ll kick ass together.”
It’s the first time since he’s been back in my life that it feels like it used to between us, but then he squeezes my good leg, and the nostalgic feeling of having my best friend by my side is gone, and it’s replaced with the need I’ve always had for him. I try to suppress a shiver.
Even in pain—although a lot less thanks to the painkillers they’ve pumped into me—I still get turned on at his slightest touch.
I throw my head back on the pillow and close my eyes, willing my stupid dick to calm down.
“Shit, are you okay? You in pain?” Talon gets to his feet and leans over me, and fuck, this makes it worse. His face, so close to mine I can feel his body heat without even touching him. “Want me to get a nurse?”
I shake my head. “I’m all good.” Distraction, that’s what I need. “I do need to take a piss though.” Doing that with this hard-on should be interesting.
“You need a hand?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I shuffle to remove the ice packs from my leg as I brace myself to get up and try not to let the blanket fall off me. It’s the only thing remotely hiding my cock.
I fail miserably.
“Guess the drugs are kicking in.”
I follow his gaze to where my dick is trying to say hello under the thin hospital gown.
Way to go, Shane. You’re killing it at embarrassing yourself.
“Right. The drugs are doing it.” Even though I’m pretty sure limp dick is a usual side effect, not the other way around.
We stare at each other, and I swear the tips of his ears turn pink. Dunno why he’d be embarrassed when I’m the one who’s hard.
“You still need to take a leak?” Talon asks. “I carried your ass across campus the other day. Twenty feet is nothing.”
If he’s willing to ignore the giant boner in the room, then I am too.
“What’s your pain level at?” Talon asks when I struggle to get out of bed.
The smirk on his face lets me know he’s messing with me. Any time we’ve got an injury, our trainers constantly ask what the pain level is, and it’s beyond annoying.
“I dunno, but my bullshit level is at a zero, so how about not giving me any.”
“Clearly, they haven’t given you enough drugs if you’re this grumpy. Then again, if they give you more, you’d probably poke me with that monster boner you’re rocking.”
“You wish.” The quip rolls off my tongue like it would if I was smack talking any of the team, but this time, it makes me pause. It’s different with him.
“Maybe I do.”
It’s a joke, I know that, but my body doesn’t. I nearly stumble and fall on my fucking face.
“Whoa.” Talon catches me and wraps his arm around my waist, while I put mine around his shoulders. “One joke about your dick, and you’re falling for me, huh?”
When I stare at him as if he’s lost his head, he acts as if he never said anything out of the ordinary. Either these drugs are better than I thought or he’s flirting with me.
It has to be the drugs. Straight guys don’t flirt with other supposed straight friends.
“I’m messing with you, man,” he says and squeezes me tighter. “If you can’t laugh, you’re only gonna cry, and you know I’m allergic to that stuff.”
“Tears?”
“It’s like my kryptonite. It sucks all my awesomeness from me.”
I’d like to suck something from him … Okay, I don’t think I can blame the drugs for that thought, but I’m milking the drugged-up situation as long as I can.
He smells of disgusting locker room soap, yet I can’t help breathing him in.
Still as pathetic as you were six years ago.
I’m still thinking of the one thing that will never happen while openly ignoring that reality by pining for and perving on my old best friend.
At least the walk to the bathroom helps deflate my cock with the pain in my leg coming back full force.
It takes two years to get into the bathroom. “Probably shoulda used the plastic urinal thing by my bed,” I grumble.