Page 16

Alex

L ance snuck back to his room around 2AM when we were sure Brad was asleep. I thought I’d be able to stave off the exhaustion with coffee, but I was just standing in our cramped kitchen, staring at the cabinet doors.

I’d never done anything so risky before. I did actually get to do some work on my final assignment, and we ran through some of Lance’s lines for his end-of-year performance for his major. But we spent more time talking than anything else, in between all the moaning. That was the hardest part—or maybe it was pressing in next to Lance, holding him in front of Brad while he looked at us with a blank expression.

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling when he saw us. His emotions were usually splattered across his face, but Brad just blinked slowly and replied awkwardly, and then he was just gone.

Lance said now that Brad knew I was gay, Brad 9.0 was bound to succeed.

But how was I supposed to believe that?

I wanted to know if Brad had heard us moaning. It was the most I’d lied so far during Brad 9.0. Everything else had sort of been skirting the truth, but the fake moans made it feel like I was scamming him.

It left me with even more questions about the look he gave me when he saw Lance on my bed.

But it gave Lance space to really talk about his mom and what had been happening with him. Apart from his cousin Porter, no one else knew, and I liked how I could listen as he unloaded. I was his unbiased ear, and I appreciated being needed, especially by someone as strong-willed as Lance.

I grabbed the microwave door and yanked it open before it could beep. My oatmeal was steaming, but I was definitely forcing myself to eat. My brain was racing too fast to really process what I was actually putting into my body.

Brad liked to sleep in until the last possible second, so I could avoid him and his questions. If I had to list all my skills, avoiding talking with Brad about my sexuality and/or my romantic feelings, for him or otherwise, would be straight at the top, with hockey as the only contender.

I blew out a heavy breath, puffing my cheeks. All the other Brad .0s had been silly and I didn’t think they had much of a success rate, but this one felt different. This one felt like I was really doing something, like I was actually going to commit and follow it through to the end.

I just hoped it didn’t result in me losing him forever.

“Morning.” Brad’s voice bounced from the kitchen door.

I whipped my head up, jumping back and bumping off a cabinet.

It took me a moment to regain my composure.

He filled the doorframe, wearing nothing but tight navy briefs. It was simply habit that had my eyes scouring his body instead of trying to focus on his face. And he picked up on it.

I’d seen him like this a million times. We had showers together after practice and got changed together, and it was never a big deal for him.

I’d learned how to hide how much I wanted him. It would only show up when he wasn’t looking at me. It was how Lance originally caught me.

Brad tended to walk around in a towel or his boxers, or anything which showed off his chest and the outline of his cock. It wasn’t anything new.

Except now he knew I liked men.

It wasn’t just his sudden arrival that made me jump back; it was the way he looked at me. His hot gaze fed into me, as if he was searching me, looking for something. The air changed, and I didn’t know if he sensed the sticky tension thicken around us.

He lifted his arms, his hands gripping the top of the doorframe, leaning forward, stretching his hard muscles tight under his skin. I loved the diamonds of dark hair under his arms, and the way it brushed over his chest. The number of times I’d imagined sucking him there was probably a crime. But desire had never hit me so strongly that I had to press my palm against the counter to stop myself from tipping forward—and to hide the way my cock grew stiff.

Even the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was turning me on.

“Hey,” I said, my eyes dropping back to my oatmeal. I really didn’t want to have to deal with whatever all the tension meant when I’d barely slept.

We had a few hours of practice before my classes started at 10AM.

“We’ve got ten minutes. I don’t want to be late,” I said.

Our kitchen was tiny, barely big enough for both of us to fit. We could just squeeze past each other if we pressed ourselves to the counters. It was always the perfect excuse to touch him.

“How was Lance? I didn’t see him this morning.” Brad said with forced casualness. Even just him saying Lance's name made things even more tense.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He just went to the rink early to get set up.”

“Uh huh,” he said, still stretching, still looking at me.

“What?” I asked, tilting my head. I couldn’t get through the door unless I rubbed against him. My cock was telling me it was a fantastic idea, which was why I never listened to it and got myself into this situation instead.

“You didn’t think of asking before you spent all night fucking your boyfriend?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the cabinets opposite me.

Did he want me to apologize?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said flatly. “We just went on one date. And I didn’t realize I had to ask permission when we all live here.” I addressed that part instead of how hard it was when he used to stumble home drunk with a girl in tow and I had to listen to them for hours.

“Okay, but he’s gonna be, isn’t he? If you’re already fucking, then that’s basically a one-way ticket. Boyfriend material right there, eh?” He snorted as his arms fell. It only took one step for him to get into my space.

“Are you angry about him staying in my room last night?” I asked, hoping to get a proper answer instead of blustering from both sides.

“No, not really,” he said more softly. “I’m more worried about him hurting you.”

I twisted my lips, trying to work out what the hell he was saying.

“You’ve known Lance as long as I have. It’s not really your problem.”

“Does that mean you guys are gonna be doing this all the time?”

“We’re not…We didn’t…” I squeezed my eyes closed. It was too much for a Monday morning. I needed coffee, and I wanted to breathe ice into my lungs before I did anything else because standing even from a foot away Brad was making me hot.

But I’d set all this in motion by agreeing to Brad 9.0.

All the fake moaning last night was embarrassing more than anything else. It was all just a game. By the end, Lance and I were holding back our laughs as we tried to see who could make the most ridiculous moan.

“Brad, you’re being weird. Can you just be happy for me?”

His body stiffened, his brow furrowing. I normally loved seeing him think about things, but this time it set me on edge.

“Well, how can I be happy when I don’t know what’s going on?” he mumbled, dropping his gaze again.

“Why do you need to, though? I don’t ask you about your relationships.”

“But I tell you everything. There’s nothing I don’t share with you.”

“Yeah, you do, but I don’t ask.” I drew in my stomach, preparing myself as much as I could. “And if you really want to know, we didn’t have sex last night.”

“What?” he replied straight away. “Why not? He was right there.”

I sighed out a tired breath. I was usually fine talking to Brad about the surface level stuff. We did get into deeper conversations, but I always strayed away from talking about what I really wanted in a partner—which definitely wasn’t “big-ass titties” like he did.

I shifted my focus back to my oatmeal.

“Because I don’t want my first time to be with someone who doesn’t love me, okay?” I rushed out. “And I don’t know if we’ll go that far. I just want to explore something with someone, that’s all.” I shrugged, but a little smile crept onto my face, happy that Brad was actually responding to me like this. “I haven’t really done this kind of thing with anyone before, so I just want to see where it goes.”

Or that’s what I decided to tell Brad. Lance and I ran through a list of potential questions Brad and Tommy might ask us, and we came up with vague answers for each one. Enough information that it was still the truth, but only a few morsels so they could make their own assumptions.

Lance called it ‘strategy’ and I called it ‘lying,’ but it seemed to be working.

I tried not to look at Brad when I said it, but I still saw his face fall out of the corner of my eye.

Was he really so disappointed that I was still a virgin? Why did it matter to him?

At least Brad’s pause meant my trembling had calmed down enough that I could turn and face him.

“You’ve never had sex before?” he asked, his voice hushed.

“No.” I shrugged off my awkwardness. “It doesn’t matter, though, does it? I just want to find the right person first.”

I knew it was dumb and romantic to want the person I loved to be my first time. But it had felt so special before, in my parent’s garage, on our couch. Where we both really connected and I didn’t want him to let me go.

And so, he threw me away instead.

“But, like, never?” Brad said slowly.

I frowned at him, opening my mouth to confirm it before he cut me off.

“Never ever? You mean, you haven’t fucked someone before? Like, even in the ass?”

I knew since we were kids I couldn’t predict anything Brad would say, but he always rattled me with things like that.

I pressed my lips together, taking a second to make sure I didn’t snap at him before I replied, “That’s what ‘first time’ means, doesn’t it?”

He’d somehow edged closer, and the tension which had been squeezing me thickened as he inspected me. It was only when his gaze traced the lines of my neck and collarbone did I figure out what he was looking for.

His serious look was burning me up as he leaned in.

His breath swept over my chest, and I instinctively craned my neck back away from him.

I should have held my ground, but his toes knocked against mine as he moved in and his presence hovered like a blanket of warmth. One more inch and he’d be there; his chest would press to mine and maybe the tension that was sealing up my throat would finally be released.

My ass dented the counter as I shifted away from him. I wanted him too much for us to be trapped in this space together. We did it every morning before practice, but it was different when all of Brad’s attention was on me.

I’d always been taller than him, but it felt like he was rearing over me. He had this strange expression, which grew even odder as he reached out and circled my wrist.

My fingers were too tight against the corner of the counter, cutting into my palms, the kitchen shrinking as he crowded my space.

All I could see was him. There was only his scent, only his touch, and the sound of his heavy breaths as his thighs met mine.

“Alex,” he said, his voice low, “have you really never had sex before?”

“Yes, Brad, for God’s sake, why do you keep—”

But he didn’t let me finish, because the moment I said his name, he dropped his shoulders, jerked forward, and kissed me so hard I moaned.