Page 46 of Don’t Say You’re Sorry (Hawthorne University #2)

ADAM

E aston walks onto the court to the sounds of thousands of cheering fans, and his shoulders immediately loosen.

He once told me that being on the court is his second favorite place to be.

Similar to what happens to me when he kisses me, when his sneakers touch that court, all his worries go away, and it’s only him, his team, and the game.

He doesn’t know I’m here tonight. I swapped shifts with Micah so I could surprise him, but now I’m thinking maybe I should have told him I was coming. What if he doesn’t want me here? What if having me watch him puts him off his game?

I’ve watched every game he’s ever played, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been to one in person.

I’m sitting in the front row with Xavi and Frankie on one side, and my mum and Michael on the other, wringing my hands together as the people around us scream and stomp their feet in the stands.

Nate looks over here and smiles at Xavi. He says something to Easton, and Easton turns toward us. The grin on his face is so big that all my nerves dissipate.

I grin back, pulling the collar of my hoodie tight against my throat. He thought I’d be working tonight, so he did a number on my neck before he left the house. I didn’t stop him.

A little smirk touches his lips as he gets into position, all the while looking at me. I discreetly look to my right, but our parents aren’t paying us any attention, their heads close as they talk excitedly.

Nate wins the center toss and passes the ball to Carter.

Easton runs up the court toward the basket, and Carter passes to him.

Just as I think Easton’s about to take a shot, he bounces the ball between two of the away team’s players, right into Nate’s waiting hands.

He shoots from behind the three-point line and scores, adding three points to the board within the first seven seconds, breaking their record.

The crowd screams as Easton and Carter do a little dance on the court.

A familiar rush slams into me, and it feels like I’m back in high school again, watching my guy play. My vision tunnels, and I only have eyes for him. There are five Hawthorne boys on that court, all wearing the same black-and-blue uniforms, but all I see is Easton.

Every time he scores, his eyes meet mine, just for a second, and I smile so wide my cheeks hurt.

In my peripheral, my mum and Michael move up a seat, and I grit my teeth as Axel sits next to me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, grateful our parents can’t hear me over the noise. They don’t know my brother and I are on the outs.

He glances at the boys on the court. “I came for Easton.”

I scoff. Fucking liar.

Easton jogs past us, looking like he wants to say something to me, but he stops himself and smiles tightly at our family before turning away.

Axel holds out his popcorn to me. I ignore him. Fuck him and his stupid peace offerings.

Easton and Carter share a look before getting back to the game.

As the score on the home side of the board creeps up, the fans get louder.

There’s a rumor going around that Nate’s going to the NBA next season, so the pressure is on.

Everyone wants to see the Hawthorne Hawks win their fourth championship in a row before Nate, Easton, and Carter graduate this year.

They’re nearing the end of their last NCAA season.

They don’t have a lot of time left on this court, so they’re making every second count.

As the last few seconds on the clock tick down, I’m on my feet with everybody else. I’m so focused on Easton that I forget to cover my neck. Axel adjusts my collar, and I don’t even bother to smack his hand away, worried I’ll miss something if I look away for even a second.

Easton puts the last two points on the board with a slam dunk, and the Hawks win.

Nate and Carter catch him as he drops down and wraps their arms around him.

Coach and the rest of the team run over to join them, and I lose sight of Easton for a few seconds.

He finds me through the crowd, and I try to tell him with my eyes how proud I am of him.

I fucking love you, baby.

He smiles as if he heard me and looks away again.

At post-game interviews, Easton gets more attention than usual.

He was at the top of his game tonight, and I’m not the only one who noticed.

He looks happy as he chats to the interviewer and answers all her questions.

To her, I’m sure the carefree grin on his face looks genuine, but I know better. He’s forcing it.

As the team heads for the showers, the rest of us follow the crowd out of the stadium and wait in the car park next to Frankie’s truck.

Axel stands awkwardly next to Frankie and Xavi as they talk to our parents.

I wish he’d leave. Every time he sneaks a look at me, I glare at him.

My mum sends a curious look my way, and I straighten up, schooling my features.

Thankfully, Easton, Nate, and Carter join us before she can ask what’s wrong with me.

My mum heads straight over to Easton and hugs him, cupping his cheeks and talking excitedly about the game. I can tell he’s done and ready to get out of here, but he lets her talk for as long as she wants to. He has all the time in the world for my mum, and I love him for it.

Our parents say goodbye and tell us they’ll see us on Sunday for dinner. I wait until their car is out of sight before I go to Easton. Just before I get there, he shakes his head. “Cameras,” is all he says.

It’s different at The Hideaway. There aren’t as many rules there.

It’s dark in the club. Most people are drunk, high, or both, and too focused on themselves to really worry about what anyone else is doing.

But here, everyone is watching him, taking pictures of him, desperate for a glimpse into his personal life.

“Is your car here?” he asks.

“No, I came with Frankie so I could go home with you.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

We get into his car, and only when we’re out of the car park do I take his hand, linking my fingers through his. He grins, lifting our hands to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

I look out the window and swallow the lump in my throat.

At home, Nate and Xavi are the only ones not doing shots. They disappeared for a couple hours after the game and came home to the after-party. Xavi’s sitting on the kitchen counter, and Nate’s standing between his legs, his hands on Xavi’s thighs and their faces close, in their own little world.

Easton wanted to get drunk, and I thought that was a great idea…for about five minutes. I can’t touch him in front of all these people, and it’s killing me.

I set my shot glass down and turn to face him. “Are you done? I’m fucking dying to get you alone.”

He raises a brow, and I snap my lips shut. Oops. Luckily, I don’t think anyone heard me.

“Go wait for me in my room,” he says quietly. “Be naked by the time I get there.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Surprise me.”

I nod and all but run upstairs.

I get to his room and look at the bed, trying to decide where to position myself, trying to imagine what I want Easton to see when he walks in.

An idea comes to me, and I roll with it without thinking too hard. If I let myself think about what I’m doing, I might lose my nerve.

I get naked. Climbing onto the bed, I lie on my back, spread my legs, and dangle my head off the edge, staring at the door upside down.

I stroke my dick while I wait, my heart thumping in my ears.

He doesn’t keep me waiting long.

He walks into the room, locks the door behind him, and turns around. He curses when he sees me, almost dropping the whiskey and Coke he’s holding.

Another idea comes to me.

“Can I have some of that?” I ask, gesturing to the drink before he sets it down.

“Now?” He eyes me. He doesn’t mind sharing, but he doesn’t want me to move.

“Feed it to me,” I say.

Stepping closer, he takes a sip. He leans over me, spitting the cool liquid into my mouth. I swallow, never taking my eyes off him. A drop slips down my jaw, and I moan when he licks it up, pushing his tongue past my lips.

He tries to pull away, but I don’t let him, grabbing the back of his neck and deepening the kiss.

“I thought about you doing that to me all night.”

“Kissing you or spitting in your mouth?”

“Both.”

He chuckles. Straightening, he puts the glass on the nightstand. He undoes his belt, unzips his jeans, and takes his cock out, tapping my mouth with the tip. “Open.”

I slowly shake my head. “Wanna play a game?”

He stares at me. “What are the rules?”

“You do what I say,” I say simply. “Nothing more. Nothing less. You in?”

He raises a dark eyebrow. “Do I get a safe word?”

I smile, trying not to laugh. “No.”

“No?”

“That’s your safe word. If you don’t want to do something, just say no.”

“All right. What’s first?”

“Get the plugs.”

Another curse. He goes to my room to get mine, returning a moment later to grab his from the bottom drawer of his dresser.

“Put yours in first, then mine.”

Without having to be told, he turns, pushes his jeans down to the tops of his thighs, and leans over the nightstand, letting me watch. I keep stroking myself while he reaches back and lubes his hole with his fingers. He carefully slides the plug inside him, sucking in a quick breath.

“Is this the first time you’ve had something in your ass since before?”

“No,” he admits. “I played with this a few times while you were gone.”

“Did you think of me?”

“Always.”

Kneeling on the bed, he grabs the lube and my plug, taking just as much care as he slides it inside me.

He stands and hands me both remotes, wetting his lips as he stares at my head hanging off the bed.

“Not yet,” I say. “Take your clothes off. Keep hold of the belt.”

He looks skeptical. “You’re not gonna ask me to hit you with it, are you? That’s not my kink.”

My laugh breaks free. “Jesus. No. It’s for my neck.”

“Oh,” he breathes, his eyes darkening with heat as he strips in record time. “Now what?”

“Put it on me.”