“Got it.”
“You need help getting there on time?” Dad’s tone is wary, almost suspicious.
I catch a glimpse of the used condom lying on the floor, and I don’t know who I need to swear my soul to, but I’m praying he doesn’t step foot in this room and see it.
“Nah, everything’s under control here, Coach.”
And Asher has every right to sound that cocky when he scored the winning goal last night.
Dad leaves, and Asher hurries back over to me. He takes one look at my face and starts to laugh.
“Well, I don’t think anything’s broken, doc.”
“Your concern is smothering.”
“Ah, come on. It’s just a bit red.” His smile is wide and so pretty. I forgive him instantly.
“I can’t believe that actually happened.”
“Need me to kiss it better?”
“Like there’s time.” I try hard not to pout. “We were supposed to wake up early.”
“You’re the one who begged for my dick last night.”
“You were sore after your game. Of course I was going to ride you.”
He pulls me to my feet. “Only three weeks until our next away game.”
“Three weeks?” I drop my head back on a groan that abruptly cuts off as he pulls me into a kiss.
“Unless we can find somewhere else to do it, you’re going to have to admire this ass from afar.”
Can’t say that’s a tragedy.
We pack and make it downstairs five minutes late, and since we skipped showering, I’m paranoid I smell like sex. So when we climb onto the bus, instead of letting Asher go sit with the team, I push him into the front row and take the seat beside him.
He shoots me a confused look.
“We both stink. I’m saving the others from enduring it. Or worse, speculating why we smell the same.”
Asher leans over and pitches his voice low. “Think my breath still smells like your cum?”
He’s teasing because even though we didn’t shower, we did brush our teeth. Even still, it’s a definite turn-on to think about us smelling like each other. For people to know what we got up to last night, even though I don’t want anyone to actually know. The thought of it is hot, but having to face Dad and the team and defend what we’re doing … that’s a no from me.
Dad’s obviously thrown when he climbs on board, but he moves to the row behind us with Beck and thankfully doesn’t call out the weirdness of us sitting together.
“What the hell happened to your nose?” he asks instead.
“Allergies?” Not that I actually have any of those, and December definitely lacks pollen in the air. I’m pretty sure Dad knows I’m lying. Still, him guessing the real reason my nose is discolored is a long shot.
I connect my earbuds to my phone and hand one to Asher. It’s a long drive from UConn back to CU, so we might as well settle in. It’s sort of … nice. We’re sitting close enough that our shoulders are touching while we whisper stupid shit back and forth.
Seeing Asher like this, open and relaxed, really highlights how far we’ve come as friends. And sure, the sex has something to do with it, but beyond that, it feels like we’ve actually connected.
He’s not a pet project, and I’m not a means to pass his tests and stay on the team.
We actually enjoy each other’s company.
Not that Asher makes it easy sometimes.
I crack a smile and let my eyes drift closed. The rock of the bus is settling, and I zone out to a happy, content place for most of the drive while Asher flicks between songs.
The sound of screeching wheels breaks my contentment, and we’re flung forward violently in our seats. The bus swerves into the gravel on the shoulder, flinging me into Asher, before veering back onto the road.
“What the hell?” I gasp. My heart rate has kicked up to nauseating levels, and I have to work on my breathing to try and bring it back down again.
“Fucking deer, I think,” someone a row or two back says.
“Moose.” The driver grunts. “Just missed the damn thing.”
I exhale slowly. Even in a bus, that wouldn’t have been a great sight.
It takes a minute for the shock to wear off.
The noise from the team has kicked up so loud, it takes me a moment to notice the short, sharp pants coming from Asher.
He’s pale and looks freaked-out. Okay, the shock has clearly not worn off him.
The need to do something grips me.
“Hey, it’s okay. It was only a moose.” I go to take his arm, but Asher jerks it from my hold.
“I know, I’m fine.” Except his voice is anything but fine.
“Asher—”
“Leave it.”
I flinch at the tone, because even when Asher’s pissed off, he’s controlled. He holds back. This …
His chest is working overtime as he tries to hold it all in, but he can’t hide how his fists are shaking in his lap.