Page 58

FIFTY-EIGHT

Clay

I watch Jethro’s face as he lubes himself up. There’s nothing more beautiful to me than his thoughtful frown. I thought so back then, and I still think so now.

With the same careful deliberation he uses for everything, he lines himself up. Then he locks his green gaze to mine. That penetrating stare that I love so much. When he enters me, it’s the single sexiest moment of my life. And the sensation of going from too empty to impossibly full.

Above me, he blows out a breath, like he needs a moment to calibrate to our new reality.

This is real. Finally.

“You feel incredible,” he whispers. Then he leans down to kiss me.

“So do you.”

“Gonna move now,” he says after another kiss.

“Kind of hoped you would.”

He braces his hands on the bed and experiments with a slow thrust. “You good?”

“So good,” I whisper.

He shivers. Then he fills me again.

Bit by bit, kiss by kiss, we pick up the pace, until he’s nailing my spot on every stroke, and I’m clutching his shoulders, hoping he never stops.

“Holy… I… stroke yourself,” he says through gritted teeth.

I grab my dick and give it a tug. I sink into the bed and look up into his straining face. It’s perfect.

“ Clay ,” he warns.

“Go. Take it.”

With a groan, he thrusts, and his whole body shakes. I feel the heat of his seed inside me, and that’s what finally takes me there—that and the expression on his face. Like he’s too overcome to breathe.

“Holy…” he says again. Then he pulls out and collapses on my chest.

“That was...”

“Wow.” He yawns, and I run my fingers through his hair.

“Shower?”

“Sure,” he slurs. “In a minute. Don’t want to go anywhere. Ever.”

I hold him so closely I can feel his heartbeat against mine.

Thirty minutes later I exit the bathroom, leaving Jethro in there toweling off his hair. In the bedroom I pick up my phone and find a text from my sister.

Kaitlyn

I’m afraid to come upstairs.

Yeah I brought someone home.

You think? The room was shaking.

“Oh shit.”

“Problem?” Jethro pads into the bedroom.

“Uh, no. My sister is texting me.”

Mom and Dad are on their way over. We’re supposed to have brunch?

“Oh shit.”

“You keep saying that.”

I wince. “Yup. So my parents are on their way here, and we’re all going out to brunch.”

Silence. I look up to see horror on his face. “Brunch?”

“You’re probably starving,” I point out.

“Not hungry enough to think a sit-down with your extended family a half hour after fucking you through the mattress is a fun idea.”

I bark out a laugh. “My parents won’t know.”

He sighs. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“No,” I admit. “But I care more about you than them. And I’m not ready for you to leave.”

“Okay,” he says, wiping the last drops of water from his shoulders, while I admire his naked body. “It’s your funeral.”

I open the drawers of my bureau and locate a polo shirt that’s a little long on me. It should fit him fine. “Wear this. Let me find you some khaki shorts.”

“Or I could just make a break for it out the back door.”

“Not another back door joke,” I say, pulling out a shirt for myself.

He sighs again. “I must really love you.”

“You must. Now hurry up. It’ll be less awkward if we get downstairs before my parents arrive.”

Except when I walk downstairs, Kaitlyn is standing in the kitchen with a glass of water, pointedly looking up at the ceiling.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for damage,” she says.

Jethro makes a groan of dismay as he follows behind me.

When my sister catches sight of him, she almost drops her water glass. “Omigod. Him? Clay!”

“What?” I grumble.

Her eyes are wide. “This man broke your heart! And he’s a huge risk to your career. God . If this gets out…”

“Baby,” Raul says from the sofa where he’s paging through one of my magazines. “I’m sure Clay knows what he’s doing.”

“Raul, I appreciate you,” I tell her boyfriend.

My sister growls, and Jethro just looks freaked-out.

The doorbell rings at this awkward juncture, and it’s the first time I’ve been glad to have my parents interrupt a conversation with my sister. I leap toward the door and answer it.

“Morning!” my mother says. “We’ve been up for hours, but I’m sure you needed to sleep in.”

“Or something,” mutters my sister.

“Morning, Mom.” I give her a quick hug and shake my dad’s hand. “Let me get my keys, and we’ll head out to a place I like…”

Jethro is already shaking his head. “We drove my car.”

“Oh. Right.” I clear my throat. “Anyway, I would like to introduce you both to Jethro Hale. He’s my…”

“Goalie,” my father finishes, holding out his hand. “Great work last night.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jethro says, adding a firm handshake. “I’m glad it all came together.”

“We’re so happy for all of you,” my mother says primly. “What an accomplishment. Will you be joining us for brunch?”

Bracing myself, I take a deep breath and prepare to explain.

But Jethro beats me to it. “I would love to crash your brunch. Your son has great taste in food, and this is the first day I’m allowed to be his date in public.”

The look of deep confusion on my parents’ faces would be funny if it weren’t so uncomfortable.

My sister winces.

Raul turns a page in his magazine.

“His…what?” my father manages.

“Mom, Dad, Jethro is my boyfriend,” I say as levelly as I can.

“Your…what?” my father repeats.

Jethro frowns at me. “Hang on. You’re not out to your parents? ”

My mother gasps.

My father’s mouth flops open like a grouper’s.

“Oh shit,” Jethro whispers.

“ Clay ,” my mother squeaks. “Really? All those times I asked you when you were going to meet a nice girl? Why didn’t you just say something?”

“Why didn’t you stop asking?” my sister counters.

“You can’t date your goalie ,” my father says, horror in his voice. “Jesus Christ, the scandal!”

The scandal! Of course he’d latch onto that.

Then again, I guess it’s better than unfiltered disgust. I sigh.

“So, yeah, about that,” Jethro says, scratching his beard. “I retired after last night’s game. I don’t want to cost Clay his job. But you should know that we met in our twenties. This isn’t some wild hair. Give him a little credit.”

“Oh,” my father says slowly, his gaze jumping between us. “And now you’re retiring, for…?” His synapses seem to suddenly fire. “For Clay? ”

“Oh, Dad.” My sister puts a hand in front of her eyes. “This is why people need therapists.”

“Yes, for Clay,” Jethro says firmly, and suddenly my eyes are stinging. “And for my ankles. And because I’ve been doing the same thing for so long, I forgot what else is out there.”

“Well said,” my sister crows. “Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought.”

My father rubs his forehead. “Well. Congratulations to you both, I guess.”

“Thank you.” And honestly, that could have gone worse.

“Can we eat brunch now?” Kaitlyn asks, hand on her belly. “Kind of desperate, here.”

Jethro pulls his key fob out of his pocket. “Let’s go. My treat.”

My sister gives him a sideways glance. “You think you can butter me up so easily?”

“Pretty sure I can,” he says. “I’ve had a pregnant sister, too, and I know how this works. What would you do for a pancake right now?”

“Almost anything,” she says, following him toward the front door.

“See? Easy peasy,” he says.

My parents and I follow them out, with Raul bringing up the rear.

“Clay,” my mother says, pausing before we reach the cars. “I apologize. All these years, it just never occurred to me that you…”

“Are gay,” I say. “I guess I knew you guys wouldn’t be assholes about that. But I spent my whole childhood being the Powers child who never quite fit in. Wasn’t that eager to add another thing to the pile.”

She shakes her head as we arrive at Jethro’s car, where he and Raul are sorting the six of us into two groups. “I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom,” I say. “I have no regrets.”

For the first time in years, it’s really true.