Page 30 of Wrap Around (Forbidden Goals #7)

SILAS

I knock, but he doesn't answer. When I don't hear anything for a while, I try the doorknob, but it's locked. I stand there, worried, until the shower door slides open and the sound of the water hitting the tile changes. Maybe he just needs some time. I can give him that.

After pulling on my pajama pants, I clean up our mess.

I throw away the discarded lube packet and wipe down the desk.

The to-go container with the sandwich I brought him back from dinner got knocked onto the floor and busted open, so it's no good anymore.

After I pick up the mess and toss it in the trash, I sit around for a while and wait, but I kind of have to use the bathroom.

I pull on a sweater and my shower slides and wonder if I should leave a note before I head to the lobby.

There's a notepad and pen next to the phone, so I write the words "bathroom & snacks" and leave it where I hope he'd see it if he gets out before I come back.

My butt is sore. I suppose that's probably normal.

I wouldn't really know. I've done a fair amount of research, both for informative purposes and entertainment.

I know enough that I was worried about my lack of prep, but I wasn't about to stop what was happening once it started.

Honestly, I was kind of afraid to. He was terrifying in the most arousing way possible.

So, yeah, maybe I should have said something, but I didn't want to interrupt whatever scary sex-god thing he had going on.

And I also didn't want him to know it was my first time.

It was very obviously not his first time, which I don't particularly want to think about too much.

But I figure if he was worried about anything, he'd ask. I don't know what the protocol is!

Everything comes out okay enough. Lube is messy, though. I've never had that much inside me, or that far inside me, if we're being specific.

On my way back to the room, I stop at the vending machines to get a few bottles of water and some snacks that neither of us would normally eat. We need to talk, though, and chocolate is a good conversation starter. It works for Lily, maybe it'll work on her brother.

I nearly drop everything when Gideon comes barreling around the corner, wearing nothing but basketball shorts and an inside-out shirt that looks like he put on wet. His hair is still dripping, and he's not wearing shoes.

"Are you okay?" I ask, just as he says, "Where the fuck were you?"

I hold up my arm full of snacks, and he looks at me like I'm insane before turning on his heel and stomping back to the room. He holds the door open for me, though, so that's something.

Dumping everything in my arms on his bed, I take two of the bottles of water and a pack of cookies and move to sit on my bed. I wait patiently while Gideon continues to stare at me like I've grown an extra head.

"There's another pack of Oreos in there," I say, gesturing to the pile of junk food.

"I know we have a game tomorrow, but I figured you probably haven't eaten, and the sandwich I brought you didn't survive.

There's some trail mix in there, too, but honestly, there weren't many options that weren't nothing but sugar and trans fats. "

I realize I'm rambling and take a breath. "Can we talk?"

"I'm not sure we should."

I'm not sure what he means, so I convey my feelings on the matter by staring at him until he breaks.

"I obviously can't trust myself. What I almost did– What I did do was–"

"–entirely consensual," I finish for him. "I'm a big boy, Gideon. I can make decisions for myself."

"But you haven't bottomed before," he says, like it's obvious.

I suppose i t was obvious, which is why we're here talking about it and not basking in the afterglow. It's mortifying. I put conscious effort into not blushing so we can talk about this like grown adult men and not pre-pubescent teens who giggle or get embarrassed by words like penis and butthole.

"No, I haven't." I also haven't topped before, but I'm keeping that little tidbit to myself unless the information is specifically asked for or required. That's none of anyone's business for now.

"Why did you let me do that?"

"Because I wanted to," I say honestly. "Because it's you and I've always–"

Apparently my honesty is a little too much, because Gideon holds up a hand and pleads for me to stop.

"Do you know how badly I could have hurt you?"

I scoff, wanting to make a joke out of how highly he clearly thinks of himself, but his expression stops me. He's right that this isn't funny. Resorting to humor isn't going to keep him talking to me.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you to stop."

The look he gives me is both incredulous and pained.

"It's not like I didn't know it would hurt. I'm not an idiot, despite what you seem to think of me right now. But it's going to happen someday, or at least I hoped it would."

"So, what, an opportunity presented itself and you just thought you'd get it over with?"

"An opportunity with you presented itself, and I've spent my entire life trying to get closer to you. So yes, I took the opportunity. And maybe it wasn't how I imagined it, but it was something."

"You should have told me–"

"–because we're so good at talking, right?" I cross my arms and glare at him pointedly. "We've barely had a full conversation since I got here."

"And whose fault is that?"

"It's not for lack of trying on my part. You won't talk to me."

"Why would I want to talk to the man who stomped on my heart and cheated on my sister?

! Who's still cheating on my sister." His hands are in his hair again.

I'm surprised he has any left with the way he pulls on it constantly.

"And yes, I hear my own hypocrisy. You make me crazy, Silas. I can't do this."

"Can't do what?"

He stands and paces the room. "I can't be around you. I can't be on the same team with you, can't pretend to be friends, can't watch you play house with my sister knowing that–" he cuts himself off, and I fill in the rest of the sentence for him.

"…knowing that I'm in love with you and always have been?"

He turns his head to look at me so quickly I'm surprised his neck doesn't crack.

"You're married to my sister." He says slowly, as if speaking to an imbecile. "You have a baby with her, you–"

My heart is beating in my throat, threatening to send anything I've eaten or drank in the last several hours right back up.

"I've been trying to tell you it isn't what you think."

"What does that mean?!"

"Are you ready to listen?" I ask calmly, trying to dampen my nerves.

"I don't know," he replies. "I'm afraid that some shady bullshit is going to come out and I'll just want to punch you."

"You've already done that," I remind him. "And what did I do?"

"Nothing," he snaps back. Then he sits at the edge of the bed, brows knit together in confusion. "You didn't fight me off or hold me back. You didn't tell Coach or anyone else. You haven't outed me or called me on my hypocritical bullshit. Why? Why, Silas?"

"Because I love you." My eyes burn, the realization that I've said those words out loud twice now hitting me hard. "I've been in love with you for as far back as I can remember. I never told you because I was afraid. I was afraid if anyone knew about me…"

"That you'd be cast out or worse," he finishes for me.

I nod quietly, looking down at the pack of cookies I no longer have the stomach for.

"That day at the lake… "

"Was the first time I had any inkling you might have felt the same. I think a big part of me didn't really believe it was really happening. Like it might have been a dream. I was so afraid and confused."

"Because you love my sister, too?"

I cock my head, trying to think of the best way of answering that. "Yes," I say, noticing his shoulders tense. "But not in the way you're thinking."

Gideon looks confused. Angry. Sick to his stomach.

"What does that mean, Silas?"

"It means you need to talk to your sister," I say, pleading with him.

"I've been trying to get the two of you to just talk to each other, to trust each other.

I haven't told her your secret," I tell him.

"But I'm also holding on to one of hers.

Before I left I told her that I can't do this anymore.

I can't keep your secrets from each other anymore.

It hurts too fucking bad," I say, my voice cracking.

The tears that threatened earlier spill over.

"It's hurting me, it's hurting both of you.

But mostly, it's hurting us. Because if we'd all been honest from the beginning, none of this would have happened. "

The rest of the weekend goes by in a haze. Time moves like molasses.

The rest of the team is enjoying the warm Southern California weather, but I want to get home so badly that I'd rather go back to the freezing temperatures of Alberta.

We pull off a win for our first game, which feels nice since none of us can remember the last time we won an away game.

I didn't score, but I got two assists. We lose to Vegas in a 3-0 shutout, but none of the team seems bothered by it.

They're all looking forward to going out on the town.

I'm too tired to even pretend I'll go, but that doesn't stop me from sitting up, awake, watching the clock and worrying what Gideon might be out doing.

The last time we played in Vegas he got shit faced and I'm pretty sure he'd been out hooking up, if his rambling was anything to go by.

It's after ten when he gets to the hotel. He's sober. Sober enough that he notices how tense I am. He must realize what I've been worried about, because his mouth quirks up on one side.

"You worried about where I've been, Caldwell?"

"No."

"Liar. Look at you. I bet you've been sitting up all night waiting for me to get back and account for my whereabouts."

This jerk thinks he's hilarious.

"I'm only as worried as you would be if you were me," I say, shrugging. "You know, if I'd come back drunk off my ass after cruising every gay bar in town trying to hook up with strangers. So drunk I couldn't hold myself up, rambling on about some guy that looked like you trying to suck my?—"

"I was out with Franks and Brent," he says quickly. "They're throwing a New Year’s Eve party after the game Tuesday. They caught me in the lobby after I'd gotten off the phone with your wife's voicemail, again, because she's still not answering my calls."

"I know she's not answering you. She's okay, though. She texted me." I hold up my phone as proof, only letting him see the last string of texts between us.

Wifey: I'm scared, Silas. What if he hates me?

Me: He won't, I promise. He has something he needs to tell you, too.

Wifey: We can do it together, then? I need you there, Silas.

Me: Of course.

Wifey: I love you.

Me: I love you, too. I promise everything is going to be okay.

Gideon swallows and looks at me uncertainly.

"How can you say you love her like that?"

"Because I do love her," I say simply. "I love her the same way I've loved her since we were little kids. It's just… different than the way I've loved you since we were little kids."

I smirk, but Gideon doesn't look amused.

"Can't you just tell me?"

"It's not just my truth to tell. Just like your truth isn't for me to tell her."

"She's all I have left, Silas. I don't know what I would do if she didn't accept me." His voice sounds as small as it did the other night, and my heart squeezes.

"I know you're afraid. So is she. She's terrified that you're going to judge her or think less of her.

" I stand and walk to him, stopping when he takes a step back, giving him whatever space he needs for now.

"You have some reassurance that she doesn't have, though.

Because I can tell you with absolute certainty that she's going to love and accept you exactly as you are. "

"How could you know that for sure?"

"Because she accepted me."