Page 5 of Announcing Love (Sporting Pride #5)

The sound of his feet slapping the treadmill was a familiar and comforting sound.

It lulled Tip into forgetting he ran, making it easier for his thoughts to stay completely lost in Artem.

He couldn’t stop picturing the way Artem looked when he left—asleep and mussed from Tip running his hands all over him.

The image of Artem’s kiss-swollen lips had hunger pangs growing in his stomach.

Tip still didn’t know why he hadn’t done more than make out and cuddle.

He wasn’t sixteen. Tip was a grown man with adult desires.

Yet, somehow, the night had felt like exactly what he needed. He was kind of shaken.

Part of Tip wondered if he should see Artem again.

They were at very different places in their life and Tip didn’t do commitment.

He already took care of everyone else. Tip didn’t need another relationship to be responsible for.

He was tired of keeping up everyone else’s expectations.

His sex life was the one place he got to be selfish.

Except Artem had been the one to take care of him.

He had only asked questions about Tip, keeping the focus on him all night before paying for their dinner.

Underneath him, Artem had stayed right there with him, giving him every ounce of his attention.

He had made the world disappear. Tip was the most confused he had ever been.

He never interrupted his workout sessions for anything.

Tip was all about focus and being the best. His desire to check his phone and text Artem was almost crippling. It was dumb.

The doorbell rang, pulling Tip from his spiraling thoughts that got darker by the second.

He stopped the treadmill and grabbed a towel before heading for the door.

Tip wiped his face and tossed the towel on the couch before he opened the door.

A local delivery service stood waiting. He smiled. “I have a delivery for Tip Ramos.”

“You got him.”

With a nod, the guy handed him a clipboard. “I just need a signature, showing you received your delivery.”

Tip signed and handed back the clipboard.

The guy turned and grabbed a box. He passed it along.

Tip eyed the package as he closed the door.

It wasn’t well put together, but it didn’t need to be when sending some dude in a Camry to someone’s house with a delivery—like ordering DoorDash.

That was the great thing about the service.

All the niceties and expectations of postal service were off the table.

While the box was huge, it was light. Tip pulled open the flaps, and a smile exploded across his face.

It was the painting Artem had shown him.

Hadn’t he said it was his favorite or something?

Tip sat with the painting held between his hands.

Even in the light, it was beautiful. The black light brought out the melancholy of the piece.

Without it, it was still amazing. Tip didn’t know shit about art, but he knew it was supposed to make you feel something.

He couldn’t quite decide what it was about the image.

It was all blue and silver. A ship crashing against violent waters.

Tip was mesmerized. He wished he could explain what happened to his chest the moment Artem had shined that black light across the image.

Maybe he should buy one of those light things and try to figure it out.

Wow, though. Artem should have sold this painting for millions. Yet he had simply given it to Tip.

Tip stood and set the painting on the couch.

He rubbed his chest as he headed back to his gym.

His phone rested on the treadmill’s console.

Tip’s steps picked up as he moved toward it.

He wanted to talk to Artem. Tip needed to ask why he had given him that.

He had to know why he wanted so desperately to talk to someone who had nothing to talk to him about.

Yet they hadn’t been silent last night, except for when they had, and those moments had been an odd mixture of comfortable and explosive.

Tip had to know what was happening to him.

When he grabbed his phone, he had already missed a text from Artem. A smile exploded across his face at the sight of Artem’s name. All his dark thoughts vanished. He forgot everything he had worried over the entire morning.

Artem: I was kind of sad when I woke up alone this morning. I didn’t expect to feel that way. Thank you for a great night.

He was thanking Tip? For what? Artem had been the one who paid and made him comfortable.

He had been the one who kept the conversation going and then he had sent Tip a gift.

Tip sat hard on the weight bench. It was a gift.

Damn. Artem hadn’t even mentioned it in his text, as if such an amazing piece meant nothing.

He had been sad to wake up alone. There was a lump in Tip’s throat, and he didn’t know what in the fuck was going on with him.

Something had been messed up in his head for a while now.

He needed to see Artem again. Tip had to figure out why his thoughts were such a mess.

Tip: Hey! I hated to leave, but you needed your sleep. Thank you for the painting. It’s truly beautiful. I promise I’ll find the perfect spot for it. Would you like to get lunch?

Artem: I have class until one. If that’s not too late, then sure. Just let me know where you’d like to meet.

Tip: Do you have to work tonight?

He wanted to keep Artem for as long as possible. He wasn’t sure one more meal together would be enough to figure out these odd feelings.

Artem: No.

A smile that felt evil pulled at his lips.

Tip: Good. Let me give you my address. You can come here, take a tour, and then I’ll drive us to lunch.

There. If anything showed him Artem’s true feelings about him, it would be seeing his home.

Artem: Sounds great. See you soon.

Tip felt better just for having a plan. Things weren’t over yet. His face hurt, making him realize he still smiled. Tip shook his head. It was time to get back to his workout.

Artem had known where Tip lived before Tip sent his address.

He hadn’t wanted to say that, though. The day the picture had released of Tip kissing Bandit, making Artem think Bandit cheated on Sacha, Artem hadn’t exactly run to his brother first. He had come here to Tip’s place.

He had been so enraged, he was more than willing to get his ass kicked by a professional athlete for his brother.

Thankfully, Tip hadn’t been home, and Artem hadn’t ended up in jail, but he knew the address.

The guy had a boat dock on the bay, for fuck’s sake.

It was such a gorgeous view, though. He had a hard time tearing his gaze away from the water as he headed for the door.

Otherwise, everything was very white. Uniform. Expensive, but kind of cold-looking.

Tip answered on the first ring of the doorbell.

Artem’s weird-ass brain took control of his tongue before hellos were even exchanged. “Can I come here when the leaves change and paint that dock?” He pointed toward the dock like the guy didn’t know where it was.

Tip didn’t look taken aback like most people did when Artem unexpectedly burst at the seams. “Yeah, that’s cool.” He stepped back, inviting Artem inside. “How was school?”

“Interesting. Sometimes, I think there’s nothing left to learn that I care about and maybe I should just stop going. Then I learn something new. For fun, they had us do some sculpting today. I think I could be good at it once I figure out the ropes.”

“I could see that.”

Not once since Tip opened the door had their gazes moved from each other.

“Would you like that tour?”

Artem cast a glance toward the couch just to appease Tip.

It was the closest thing. Then his eyes went right back to Tip.

He was the most beautiful thing about the place.

“I’d love to see where you decided to put my painting.

That way, I know it’s not in the trash,” he tacked on with a nervous laugh.

He genuinely worried Tip didn’t like his work.

Tip could have pretended interest just to humor Artem, but he had looked as if the image moved him. Artem knew it belonged with Tip.

“It’s gorgeous. I’d never put your work in the trash. Come on.” He grabbed Artem’s hand and dragged him down the hall. Artem looked at each room as they passed. The place truly was massive and impressive. Ridiculous for one person. Artem would never say that, though.

Finally, Tip came to a room. The lights flared to life as he stepped inside. Artem’s painting hung above a massive bed with a blue duvet that matched the blues in the painting perfectly. The room smelled like Tip.

“Is this your bedroom?” It was spotless. Like no one lived there, tidy.

“Yeah.”

Artem forgot to be horrified by how clean everything was. He smiled. “You’re joking? My picture fits your color scheme perfectly. That’s wild. It really was meant for you.”

Tip laughed. It shone bright in the eyes. “I know, right? I brought it in here while I tried to decide where it should go. As soon as I stepped through the door, I was like, ‘wait.’” Tip laughed again and Artem couldn’t stop smiling. He felt good in Tip’s company.

“I’m really happy I decided to give it to you. When I woke up, it just hit me. You should have it. I don’t think anyone else would appreciate the piece the way you do.”

For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

Artem knew Tip would kiss him before the guy even moved.

It was odd how easily Artem read Tip when they hadn’t spent that much time together.

But he knew, and he wasn’t disappointed when Tip’s lips touched his.

Artem’s lips automatically parted. He resented the idea of lunch with the bed right there.

With an ease that shocked the hell out of Artem, Tip lifted him and took him down on the bed, as if he read Artem’s mind.

This time didn’t feel like last night. There was intent behind each stroke of Tip’s tongue.

Not only was Artem unsurprised when his shirt disappeared, he tore at Tip’s.

He wanted to have their bare skin touching.

“I swear I didn’t use the painting to lure you in here.” Tip went right back to kissing him, stealing Artem’s chance to respond. His kisses turned rougher. He had the front of Artem’s pants open before he knew what happened.

Artem grabbed his hand when he moved to shove it inside Artem’s jeans. “Whoa. Can we slow down a little? I’ve never done this before.”

Tip jerked back so hard and fast, Artem wondered if he gave himself whiplash. “What?”

The anger in Tip’s tone had Artem chewing his bottom lip.

He had anxiety issues and didn’t like confrontation.

Artem also didn’t understand what he had done wrong.

In his nervousness, he babbled without thinking.

“Well, you know, it’s not like I’ve had time to date.

Not really. After my family died, Sacha and I had to scrape to survive and take care of Baba.

My every moment has been dedicated to work, school, or caring for her.

You’re really the first person I’ve dated since Bandit came along and made things easier. ”

Tip crawled from the bed. He didn’t look appeased. Tip jerked his shirt back on. “You should’ve said something sooner. I’m not the type of guy to break someone in.”

His anxiety died an instant death. Fury took its place.

His jaw ticked. “Break someone in,” he repeated, saying each word slowly, unable to believe what he had just heard.

Artem rolled from the bed and grabbed his shirt.

He wanted to calmly dress and leave without another word, but his brain ran at a million miles an hour.

Artem had never felt so much anger in all his life.

He had thought Tip was a nice guy. Virginity wasn’t a big deal to Artem, but he couldn’t say he hadn’t hoped his first time would be with someone amazing.

That wasn’t Tip, and Artem couldn’t walk away without saying as much.

His gaze locked on Tip. Even Artem felt the hatred pouring from him.

He motioned helplessly toward Tip, trying to find the words to describe how shitty he was.

Nothing came close enough. “Just yikes.” With that hanging as the last words between them, Artem stormed out.

He slammed the front door closed behind him with enough force he likely took some pictures off the wall.

Artem was halfway down the road before he took a deep enough breath to see clearly.

Then the pain struck. It was so stupid. It wasn’t even about Tip.

Life was just always so goddamn hard, and Artem was exhausted with it all.

He didn’t know where he was headed, but he couldn’t go home yet.

If he sat inside those four walls today, he might slit his wrists.

He hated how much his family home felt like a prison, but it did.

The place was a mixture of happy childhood memories and a living nightmare.

He couldn’t go there and listen to Baba’s teasing.

She definitely would want to know about last night.

Artem couldn’t do it. He felt too broken today.

Artem felt exposed. Tip had looked at him with such horror, as if Artem was a freak.

Artem always felt like he didn’t fit in.

Having those fears validated by someone like Tip was too much. Artem needed time to breathe.