Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“It is my business if it’s going to be a problem. Do you already have a boyfriend? Last thing I need is another scandal where I’m a homewrecker, and—”
“He’s an ex, okay? No, not even that. He’s a guy I fooled around with for about twelve months.”
“A year? You slept with someone for an entire year and didn’t consider him your boyfriend?”
Yeah, hard to miss the condescension there, Matt.
“We were casual,” I say. “We both dated other guys in between.”
Although, the last few months, Aron kept dropping hints about not doing that anymore. He wanted to come out of the relationship closet and tell our friends we were fooling around, so if we wanted to go home together one night, they wouldn’t bat an eye. God, I was so blind to not see he wanted more than what we’d promised each other.
“I’m going to the gym,” Matt says and starts rummaging through his suitcase.
Holy mother of Jesus. “Again? There is such a thing as burn out, you know. No team will want you if you’re injured.”
“I’m at the peak of my game. I’ve never been fitter.”
“Then why wasn’t your contract renewed well before the scandal?”
Hurt flashes across his face before he schools it. “A few months before everything happened, I had a talk with the offensive coach. He said there was obvious distrust on the field and all signs pointed to me being the instigator. I didn’t play well with others, apparently.”
“You? An asshole to people? I’m shocked.”
He cracks a small smile. “The team wanted me to go to strip clubs and out after games and be friends with them all. I wanted to play football and then run home and lock the closet door. The less I hung out with them, the less chance of being caught out.”
I purse my lips. “Okay, that’s what I don’t get. How did you let someone photograph you in that club?”
“What, you think I handed someone the camera and said please, ruin my life?”
“You were a hardass about it—not even getting close to your teammates—and then you go and throw it all away for a blowjob?”
“Moment of weakness. I rarely hit those clubs. The first year in the NFL, I never touched another guy. Hence the tattoos.” Matt rubs his forearm.
“Right. Because celibacy equals tattoos?”
“I needed something. Adrenaline, pain …”
“I don’t get it.”
Matt sighs. “The first time I hooked up during my second year, it was after a loss. I fumbled the ball on a play that could’ve put us on top. Losses happen, and everyone makes mistakes, but it was the first real fuckup I’d had where the loss could’ve been blamed solely on me. So, I scoped out a club, took a random guy into the bathroom, and then blew him. Then I could claim to be good at something, right?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had the pleasure.” And there goes my mouth again.
“And you never will,” Matt says and heads to the tiny bathroom to change into gym gear.
I stare down at my hard cock. All Matt has to do now is mention giving a BJ and my dick wants in on the action. If I hadn’t already realized it, it’s abundantly clear that the stupidest thing I’ve done all year wasn’t hurting Aron. It was kissing Matt.
After meeting up with the others for breakfast, they decide to spend the day doing some ropes course on one of the outer decks, but I need space from Matt.
I also need to find an internet kiosk. This morning when Matt went back to the gym, I caved and checked my messages from Aron. They all consisted of a different version of please tell me this is a joke.
Telling him the truth is tempting, but I signed a non-disclosure agreement. There’s only a select few who know Matt and I are in a sham relationship. Plus, I’m hoping it’ll help Aron move on if he thinks I’m with someone else.
Signing into the ship’s computer, I open my email and stare at the cursor blinking at me. It’s mocking me, I know it is. I fight the urge to flip it off.
If the last month has taught me anything, it’s that I have to get straight to the point with Aron. Any pussyfooting about and he worms his way back in. So, I go for the gut punch and hate myself for doing it.
I’m sorry. I met Matt and it just happened. I didn’t expect to fall so fast, but I have.
My eyes close as I hit send. No matter what my friends believe or think of me, I don’t like being an asshole. I hate that I hurt Aron.
A chat bubble pops up.
Shit.
Aron: What are you playing at? You don’t fall for people. That’s what you’ve repeatedly told me for a year.
Noah: I don’t. Usually. Matt’s different.