Page 44 of Wrap Around (Forbidden Goals #7)

GIDEON

The screen lags about two seconds behind the audio, just enough to make watching the game on this shitty streaming service feel even more excruciating.

This sucks.

Being benched is bad enough, but staying home sick for two entire weeks is bullshit.

Zero stars. I’m only a week into my mandatory COVID isolation and I’m going stir crazy.

Considering this is only the second day that I’ve spent more than three hours awake at a time, that says more about me than it does the team’s health and safety requirements.

I hate this. I hate having to stay home while my team struggles. I hate having Lily hover over me like a mother hen, and I hate that I’m jealous of Silas’ superhuman immune system. He never gets sick.

I’m technically through the worst of it, according to Dr. Raj and my sister’s overconfident lips-to-forehead diagnostic technique. My fever broke the night before yesterday, but the body aches are rough. How can I feel so sore from doing absolutely nothing ?

“Want the heating pad again?”

“No,” I grump, watching as one of the new guys makes a perfect breakaway and fires a clean shot at the Firebirds’ goal, tying up the score. He’s an unaffiliated player that Coach scraped up from the East Coast League to meet roster minimums since a huge chunk of his team out sick.

“Nice shot,” Lily mutters to herself, as she plugs in the heating pad and tries to position it behind my back.

“I can do that,” I snap, mostly sarcastically, considering I don’t do anything to take it from her and do it myself. She’d just fuss with it and readjust it anyway. “I’m a big boy, Mommy.”

She raises a pointedly unimpressed eyebrow in my direction.

I’m wrapped up in a fuzzy pink blanket I stole from Addy’s room, wearing Rick and Morty pajama pants and my boyfriend’s hoodie.

There’s tissue shoved up my nostrils to catch the faucet-like drip, and I’m taking up an entire half of the huge sectional sofa, sprawled out on my stomach and cradling my head in a throw pillow that says SCREAM HERE in large block letters.

“Just you wait until Addy starts public preschool in the fall,” she says. “The last time she did any sort of playgroup back home, she constantly brought home the crud. Stomach viruses, colds, flu, you name it, she’s brought it home. Kids are petri dishes.”

My lips twitch. I kind of like that she expects that I’m still going to be crowding their space that far into the future.

She didn’t even skip a beat. It’s good to know she doesn’t mind that I’ve been crashing here for weeks.

I expected that I would go back to my condo to isolate from everyone.

I don’t want to get Addy sick, most of all.

But they weren’t having it. I isolated myself in Silas’ bedroom, from everyone but Silas, of course.

He almost single-handedly took care of me those first few rough days.

Not that I couldn’t have done just fine on my own, but it was kind of nice, in a way.

I guess. If you like being hovered over and coddled and petted like some kind of invalid house-cat.

“Well, let’s hope I’m not still squatting come fall.”

She scoffs. “You’re the only one that doesn’t realize you already live here, dummy.”

“I know I’ve been here a lot, but I still do have my own place.”

“You should sell it, or rent it out, or something,” Lily says, her attention focused on the TV. “Besides, that place is creepy. It looks like Patrick Bateman lives there, but with less personality.”

“Maybe I should consider putting down some newspaper.”

“Hey, do you like Huey Lewis and The News?”

I bark out a laugh, but it comes out as a cough. “Why am I surprised you’ve seen that movie?”

“Because I’m supposed to be a mindless little church mouse who doesn’t have interests beyond her bible and how she can be of service to her husband, father, and God,” she deadpans.

“Harlot.”

“Abomination.”

I snort, and it triggers a coughing fit that I have to sit up to clear. She passes me the now-cold cup of tea that she made me earlier.

The game commentary picks up, noting that there’s just over a minute left in the period. If we don’t score now, we’ll have to go into overtime.

“You really don’t mind me being here? Permanently, I mean?”

“Do you not feel how seamlessly you’ve fit in here?

It’s like you’ve always been here. The way it was supposed to be.

” She eyes me. “Do I need to check your temperature again? Because you’re delirious if you think you aren’t an integral part of this family.

And I’ve never seen Silas this happy before.

We’re all happier now that you’re here.”

“I think part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like this is all too good to be true. What —”

“What if nothing, Gid. Like I said, you’re the only one that hasn’t figured it out yet. This is the new normal, big brother. Although I’m starting to think we should switch rooms. Y’all need one farther away from the rest of the house, and a private bathroom.”

I cough-laugh again. “You’re horrible.”

She grins. “But still not wrong.”

On the screen, Silas streaks into frame. The clock is down to the final seconds. He finds the puck like he’s magnetized to it and strips it from the Firebirds’ center. The camera struggles to keep up with him as he skates hard, makes a sharp cut, and winds up.

“Come on, baby. Come on.”

Lily and I both hold our breath as Silas fires a shot. The puck, nothing but a tiny dot on the screen, is midair as the buzzer sounds. The crowd is on their feet.

We see the puck hit the net and the lamp light up before the sounds of celebration catch up to the feed.

“Yes!” Lily whoops. I try to, but just end up coughing some more.

I’m happy for the team. It’s the first win since returning from our last road trip with nearly a third of the roster out sick.

Coach did a good job making the most of a shitty situation, pulling in some guys who’ve been riding the press box most of the season, some younger guys that usually only practice with us but don’t dress for games, and a few unaffiliated players on short-term tryouts.

They’re making it work. But damn if I don’t wish I were there with Silas right now, celebrating a much-needed win .

I grab my phone and type out a quick message.

ME: Nice wrist shot. All that extra stick handling has been working for you, huh?

The fire crackling in the stone hearth in the living room below us casts just enough light for me to see the outline of Silas’ profile as he looks at the view above us.

Through the slanted skylight over the mattress we pulled from the bedroom downstairs, the dark night sky is brilliant with stars.

It’s a stunning view, but nowhere near as breathtaking as the man lying next to me.

We’re high up in the mountains, miles from the nearest town or resort, with only enough phone signal to check in once or twice and say goodnight to Adaline.

She’s used to her daddy, and now her uncle, being away for their jobs, so it’s business as usual for her.

I’m trying not to feel guilty for leaving when we don’t have to, but this trip away was actually Lily’s idea.

Selfish or not, I’m glad to have the time alone with him. We needed this.

Up here, where no one can reach us, it feels like the world has been reduced to just this moment. To the warmth of his body pressed against mine, and the soft pressure of his lips when he turns his head and finds me watching him instead of the view.

His kiss is slow. Intentional. Like we have all the time in the world. And here, it feels like we finally do.

We’ve spent the past two days tangled up in each other, mostly in this very spot. Talking. Touching. Laughing. Crying. More touching. Not rushing anything. Just being here, with each other, in the moment.

A sense of peace comes over me as I breathe him in, and I know this is it.

This is everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I could have asked for but was too afraid to believe could ever really happen.

I feel like such a sap, but I wanted this to be special.

I know he’s been waiting for me to initiate sex, to finally fuck him the way he wants me to, but he hasn’t brought it up or tried to press it.

I want to do something different though, and I’ve been a little nervous to bring it up.

Silas deepens the kiss and rolls on top of me. Our skin is still a bit sticky with leftover lube from earlier. He didn’t know it, but he was learning how to prep me, and I was letting myself ease into a new role.

“Silas,” I half whisper, half moan his name.

His hand wraps around us both, but he just holds us while he kisses me, content to be lazy with our pleasure.

Four orgasms into the day, this is more about the connection than the climax.

“Silas,” I say again, as he’s kissing down my neck. “I want you to do it.”

He pulls back and hovers over me, face to face, looking into my eyes in the dim flicker of the fire downstairs. “Do what?”

“You know what. I know you’ve been waiting. And I’m thankful, because I’ve been trying to work myself up to ask you to make love to me first.”

“Why would you need to work yourself up? Did you not think I’d want to?” As if to answer his unspoken question, he rolls his hips, rubbing his cock against mine so I can feel his proof.

“I ruined what should have been our first–“ He tries to interrupt but I press my fingers to his mouth before he can argue. “But there are still plenty of firsts we can have together. I’ve never bottomed before, so it would be new for both of us, the way it would have been if we’d given ourselves to each other that day or any day after. And I’ve never made love before.

It’s not something I’ve ever even considered, but I don’t just want to fuck you, I want it to be more.

I want it to be special, or whatever,” I say, feeling self-conscious about how damn mushy I’m being .