Page 3 of Unfaithfully Yours

TWO

Ryan

“He's got promise, right?”

“Huh?”

I glanced over at Jeremy's dad, Carl, only registering what he'd said after seeing that he was waiting for an answer.

“Uh. Yeah,” I said, looking out at his son on the field. “He's fast. Has good instincts too.”

He nodded, looking pleased as he watched the practice.

Out of all the kids I coached, Jeremy was good. It was hard to say at fourteen if that was going to lead to a career, but for guys like his dad, who had played in high school, they wanted it just as much as the kids did. Probably more.

“He'll go far,” he agreed, smiling proudly.

I nodded, playing along.

It was a skill I'd developed over years of coaching high school kids. Keeping parents happy was a part of the game at this point and normally, I didn't mind. It gave me an excuse to socialize with someone other than the school teachers or my small group of friends.

Thinking of them unfortunately brought my thoughts back around to Kamran. To be fair, it didn’t take much to make me think about him.

A lead stone had settled in the pit of my stomach since I'd gone home Sunday night and it hadn't dislodged itself yet.

Football was a reminder. Guys with green eyes—like Jeremy's dad—were reminders.

Fucking breathing was a reminder.

My heart started racing anytime I thought about what had happened—which was constantly. I was on the verge of developing an anxiety disorder over this.

A panic attack was probably going to take me out the next time someone asked me how my weekend had been.

“Did you watch the game?” Carl asked.

I immediately choked on air.

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I did,” I managed to say.

Carl didn't take much notice of my obvious discomfort as he started to launch into his disappointment about plays that I didn't even remember because I'd been so damn distracted by Kamran pacing and having a breakdown…

then the feeling of him in my arms, the way it made my heart break seeing him like that, the way I'd wanted to make it all disappear for him.

The way he felt under me, kissing me, his cock against my palm, hot even through his jeans…

Heat traveled up my neck as everything came back in stark relief because I’d been drunk enough to do it, but not too drunk to remember it.

My body itched, blood rushing south in an attempt to give me another unwanted hard on, as it had been doing on and off since the incident. I was thankfully too panicked to go full mast, so instead it just ran through my veins on overdrive, making my heart race.

I tried to ignore it and somehow managed to respond at the right moments to whatever Carl was saying, then, thank God , practice was over, and it was time to send everyone home.

“Good practice,” I said to the kids.

I forgot to say goodbye to them or the parents who had come to watch and I didn't even notice until I was sitting in my car in the parking lot, hands braced on the wheel, trying to breathe.

Why had I done it? Why had I climbed on top of my best friend and made out with him?

Now that I was alone, my cock promptly gave in and swelled, tightening my jeans to an uncomfortable degree.

I didn't touch it obviously . I was still at work for fucks sake. I was already losing my sanity over this. There was no need to lose my job over it too.

Hands shaking, I reached for the glove compartment and the phone I'd been trying to ignore.

Kamran hadn't messaged me once, and I didn't blame him.

I had woken up hung over and beating myself up on Monday morning. Kam probably thought I was an even bigger asshole than I felt. He was married and Melissa was my friend. I loved her like family. Or at least, I had thought I did, but not enough clearly, because I had done that.

Or maybe it was just that I loved Kamran more than I loved her. I couldn’t exactly pretend otherwise, could I?

Nope. After years of keeping my feelings locked inside me where no one could see them, I’d accidentally let them seep through the cracks. I loved Kamran more than anything in this universe and by now I knew that nothing was ever going to change that.

I just hoped that Kamran didn’t know. That he blamed the beer. That he wouldn’t push me away the way I always feared he would if he found out.

When I finally looked at my phone, there were no new messages and no missed calls. I wanted Kamran to break the ice because I didn't think I could. I couldn't face him when I'd outed myself like that.

Kamran was more than my best friend. He was my everything.

When I was young and stupid, I'd continued to date woman just to make the act look convincing.

At one point, I'd really thought that getting with the complete opposite of what I wanted was the best way to distance myself from it, but there was no moving on from Kamran.

I'd accepted that and had never planned on crossing any lines. I'd never even wanted to. I didn't want to lose him.

Plus, he was fucking married !

To a woman who was cheating on him , I reminded myself.

Taking a shaking breath, I opened up our last string of messages from Sunday. It ended with him asking me if I could pick up some beers on my way over. Now I wished that I hadn't. I wouldn't have ended up with my tongue down his throat if I hadn't been so drunk.

He sure as hell wouldn't have let me do it, either. He was as straight as they came. I had always thought anyway, but being drunk and vulnerable could make someone accept a kiss or two, right?

With trembling hands, I typed out a message.

Hey

Message sent, I waited anxiously, unable to drive until I knew if he was going to answer or not.

Kamran never left me hanging long. Assuming nothing had changed, I'd get a reply soon.

My phone buzzed.

Hey

I had never been so elated by three letters before.

The breath I'd been holding came out in a rush of laughter and I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel, feeling like I could breathe again.

My phone buzzed again.

You still coming to Dave’s place on Friday?

Yeah. Definitely.

My reply got a thumbs up only, but it was such a normal exchange that I felt like I could relax again.

Finally, I turned on my car, heading home, a weight lifted from my shoulders.

This was the best-case scenario.

Kamran didn't need his friends doing weird shit to him while he dealt with whatever the hell Melissa was up to. He needed stability and support.

Honestly, I had messed up. I was going to apologize for it again, sober this time. I didn't want him feeling bad about what had happened when all he'd done was laid there drunk while I touched him.

And even though I'd been drunk too, I felt so fucking guilty that it burned. Especially because it had felt so good. Every half-baked fantasy I’d ever had paled in comparison to his real lips on mine.

“I'll make it up to you,” I promised him aloud. I just hoped he wouldn't hold it against me. That he'd understand without things getting awkward.

That he wouldn't guess how hard it was for me to stop myself from touching him sometimes, or how natural those hugs and kisses had felt.