Page 14 of Studs Up
“Reed,” Coach waved at me from across the field, and I jogged over. The fucking sun had been burning my neck for hours, and I hated it. So I had no problem heading toward the shaded tent where Coach stood.
“What?”
“The desk clerk left a note for me,” he crossed his arms and waited for an explanation.
“And?” Here it was. I was gonna be pissed if this hurt my future, and a tiny part, deep inside, hoped it didn’t hurt his chances either.
“And she said that you and Reed got into an argument at three in the fucking morning. Why the fuck were you up at three in the fucking morning?”
I glanced around the field to find everyone too far away and engaged in their drills to hear.
“He doesn’t sleep,” I said. “I found him at the gym last night.” Was I going to tell Coach about the nightmare? No. It wasn’t my business. Whatever kept him up at night was for him to figure out.
“And you thought arguing with him was the best way to handle it?”
“Why the fuck are you mad at me? He’s playing like shit because he’s not sleeping.”
“Because you have a better opportunity to be the nice guy.”
“What the fuck makes you think that?” I crossed my arms.
“You’re a good college boy with a nice fancy fucking degree, use it.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, irritated.
“Now go be the better man and play nice,” Coach waved me away like we were done.
“You already knew, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I knew,” he said.
“And you think I’m gonna fix it?”
“Sure, that would be great. Thanks for volunteering.”
Fucking hell. I couldn’t fix the guy who didn’t want to be fixed.
Holden
“Oh my god, you live,” Alex said with a mix of humor and genuine concern. “I thought he was going to eat you or sacrifice you to the demon soccer gods or something.”
“No, but I almost froze to death,” I grumbled as I dropped down into the seat next to him.
Alex looked confused, so I elaborated.
“It’s the fucking Arctic in there. I took the hottest shower of my life this morning, and I’m still freezing.”
For breakfast, I had assembled every hot item available. Hot coffee, hot eggs, anything that had steam rolling off of it was on my plate.
“What’s he like?” Morales asked, leaning in conspiratorially. My mind snapped to him holding me and comforting me, the soothing feeling of his hand in my hair as I tried to catch my breath. I hated how wonderful it felt and how badly I needed someone to hold me.
I had masturbated to Reed, more than I was willing to admit, and gentleness had never been a part of the equation. Just a hard, angry fuck. I shivered.
“Just as much of a dick as you think he is,” I said, almost telling the truth. I sipped the coffee, enjoying the burning heat on my lips. I was that cold. “I think he’d rather be left alone.”
“So leave him alone,” Alex unhelpfully suggested. “That should do it.”
“I tried, but he watches me. Like he’s looking for a weakness or something.” And there was the heat I had been searching for. From precisely the place I didn’t want. Knowing he watched me, feeling his eyes track me, sent hot shivers down my spine, and it burned in my core.
