Fuck. I could see where he was coming from, but it was hard. I would defend anyone I cared about from shit like that, but I got what Garrett meant. “I’m sorry. I hate bullies. My dad is one.”
His gaze softened. He dropped his head back, looking up at the sky, and let out a deep breath. I stepped closer, wanting to bury my face in his neck…maybe bite it and then kiss it better, wondering what it would be like to bend him over his car and take him right here.
“It really sucks that you’re such a good guy, Rams.”
“Because you can’t stay mad at me?” I fluttered my lashes, but then sobered. “I get you, G. I do. I won’t do it again, but for the record, if the situation were reversed, I think you’d do the same for me. It has nothing to do with thinking the other person is weak and more to do with giving a shit about them.”
Garrett’s lips curled up, and he winked. “Get off my nuts.”
I laughed, stepped closer again, leaned forward, before his eyes went wide and reality shocked through me, making me jerk backward. Holy fuck, I’d almost kissed him in the parking lot of our facility.
“So, um…yeah…you forgive me?”
“No.”
“Still wanna come over tonight and have sex with me?”
Garrett laughed. “Yes. But only because I like your dick, not you.”
It had been three weeks since the first night Garrett slept in my bed, and he’d made it there numerous times since.
“What did you say that night you were drunk all those months ago? I’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen? Oh, no, it was ridiculously hot. That’s what you said.”
“I’m pretty sure that was you dreaming.”
“Nope.” I nodded toward my SUV. “Hurry up and get your ass to my place. We’ll get cleaned up and go grab some dinner or something.” We’d never been on a date, not that I was saying that’s what this was, but after practice today, we had a whole fucking week to ourselves—no game, no practice, nothing. I hoped he’d spend a lot of it with me.
“You’re getting awfully bossy.”
“Hurry and get your ass to my place, please?”
“That’s better.”
I walked away with a smile on my face, though I always wore one when I was around Garrett McRae.
Garrett had followed me home. He’d kept shit in his car for when he stayed at my place. We’d sucked and fucked all over my house like we got some kind of prize for how many places we could come together. Though I hadn’t let him take my ass yet, I had a feeling I would soon. I’d let him stick a couple of fingers up there, and I had to say, Nance didn’t know what he was missing. Garrett had rubbed my prostate and basically made me shoot my brains out of my cock. It was one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had.
We showered together, then climbed into my SUV to head to Stella, a popular restaurant in Denver that was used to serving high-profile customers. It wouldn’t be odd for the two of us to be seen together there. I didn’t worry about it, didn’t think people would assume we were on a date or anything. I’d been with both Houston and Tucker how many times? It was shitty that I had to think that way, which was partly my fault. I shouldn’t care if people knew I was queer, but I just…didn’t want to be known for anything other than football. I’d finally taken hold of my own career and wasn’t asked about my dad in every interview. I didn’t want my game to be overshadowed by something else.
But if I was being honest, I’d admit my little act in the locker room likely wasn’t helping me any.
“You’re being quiet. Change your mind?” G asked when we were seated. We’d chosen to eat outside. They had a patio with outdoor heaters at each table and fairy lights strung across the lattice ceiling.
“Nope. I’m good.” I wanted to be out with Garrett tonight. I should worry about what that meant—this was only supposed to be a friends-with-benefits thing, after all—but I liked spending time with him. He made me feel…more real, if that made sense.
“You’re being weird,” Garrett said.
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“An idiot?”
We each ordered a beer, steak, potatoes, and veggies. When we were alone again, after getting our drinks, Garrett leaned back in his chair, watching me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re so gone for me.”
“You wish.” He lowered his voice. “Any trouble with your dad lately?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I wasn’t used to people talking to me about him this way. How the media did it, yes, but not with the concern Garrett had in his voice. “He hasn’t shown up, but it’s only a matter of time before he does. He’s still calling, though.”