Page 73 of Studs Up
“Because of me?”
“Actually, no,” I said, the corner of my mouth quirked.
“I require further explanation.” Of course, he did. I opened my eyes and rolled them.
I sighed and spritzed the air plants that hung in little glass orbs around my front window.
“You know we played together in the academy.”
“Yeah, hit wall, remember.”
“I want to see that someday,” I grinned. I wanted to know what his obsession with me looked like.
“Fuck no.”
“Anyway, I had a bit of a hoe phase and had pretty low standards when it came to who I spent the night with. Marcel was always willing to jump in bed and being a horny teen…” I let the rest speak for itself.
“You fucked a lot.” He said it evenly as if it was nothing more than a fact. I cringed.
“Yeah.”
“Then what happened?”
“A Coach suggested that I better knock it off if I wanted to get to the next level because players like me wouldn’t be welcome in locker rooms.”
“How old were you?”
“Eighteen.”
“Fuck Holden,” he said. “So you’ve been celibate for six years?”
“Kinda. I had one guy for a while. I thought I could keep him, but eventually, I had to let him go. The celibacy has been more like two years.”
The memory was so painful my chest ached. I hadn’t wanted to. I had loved Allen. But the texts came, and I obeyed.
“That sucks. Is that what he wanted at the bar?”
“Yeah,” I went back to spritzing the air plants. “He keeps asking when we see each other. Still. It’s fucking annoying. He wanted more than sex then, and I had no interest. He wasn’t that good of a fuck, and he was very needy. Not something I wanted to deal with.”
“Yeah,” he agreed in his rough voice.”So, I’m better?”
I should have known that was coming.
“Yes, Nolan, you are a much better fuck.” Better than all of them.
“Um, you can’t say anything to him. I just outed him and-”
“I’m not gonna say shit,” Nolan said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Unless he makes you look like you’d rather die than he touch you again.”
“Did I really look like that?”
“Yeah, you did. I didn’t like it.”
My heart warmed. It wasn’t supposed to do that, but it did.
He yawned.
“Oh my god,” I groaned. “I’m sorry. Go to bed. You have to lose to New York tomorrow.”
