#Rev (GearShark #2) (25 page)

“Yeah,” I said and then attacked his mouth. That short kiss we shared before was a teaser, something that left me wanting more.

He opened for me instantly, and our tongues slipped against each other’s while our lips moved in sync. I reached around and grabbed his ass, wishing there was a lot less clothing between us. He must have felt the same, because he was pulling at my shirt.

I let it go and slid it off and tossed it on the bed. “We don’t have time for this.” I reminded him.

“I know,” he said even as he ran his palms over my chest and down my abs.

I kissed him again. Hard and deep. He groaned into my mouth, and I swallowed the sound.

Grudgingly, I pulled back and licked at my lips so I could get every last taste of him inside me. “Arrow, huh?”

“I like him.”

I nodded. “Me, too.”

He started pulling off his clothes and rummaging around in his drawers for fresh ones. I watched, admiring the strong lines of his body and remembering the way his skin felt beneath my fingertips.

I wanted to touch him. I thought about it over and over, but I didn’t. This time if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’d want to take him completely, and he was loud when I had sex with him.

Kissing in front of the fam was one thing; letting them hear him moan my name was another.

“Stop it,” he said, turning toward me.

“What?”

“Thinking about being inside me. You’re making me crazy.”

“I can’t help it. I want more.”

“Me, too.” His voice dropped.

It still kind of amazed me that he felt the same way I did, that his body responded to my touch like mine did his. What were the odds really? What were the odds I’d meet someone who not only was a friend, but then had the capacity and the open heart to become my everything else?

Without thinking, I crossed the room and snatched him to me. Our bodies pressed tight, and I knew he could feel my erection between us. I smiled against his head because I could feel his, too.

“Later.” I promised myself out loud.

“Tonight?” Drew lifted his head.

I kissed him again even though I wasn’t supposed to.

I mean, really, our entire relationship was a giant “wasn’t supposed to.” We did it anyway, and it was the best decision I ever made.

“Tonight.” I promised and then let him go.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower. I’ll be down in a minute.”

I nodded. “I still haven’t told you what happened this morning at the frat.”

He turned from the door, grinning. “Oh, I know what happened.”

My eyes narrowed. “You heard all the shouting?”

“That, too.”

Realization dawned. Holy shit balls. Drew totally set Con up. Mr. Computer Savvy himself.

“How the hell did you pull that off, and how did you put the five hundred in his bank account?”

Drew sniffed and looked smug. It was sexy. “Don’t ever piss off a hacker,” he said. “And
especially
don’t go after the person a hacker is in love with.”

I laughed. “You sneaky bastard.”

His smile was sly.

“You covered your tracks, didn’t you?” I worried. If this was somehow discovered…

“Taken care of.”

“How?” I pressed, still concerned. I started imagining ways I could take the blame if he got caught and make it sound like I actually knew how to hack.

“I used computers with IP addresses not linked to me or you. Internet cafés, libraries, even a hotel in North Carolina—not the one we stayed at. I used one in Maryland, too.”

I grinned. He was smart.

“Plus, I know how to move around a computer undetected. I know how to do things without leaving a trace. I might not like my day job, but I do it very, very well.”

“I fucking love you,” I told him.

“How bad did Con come down on you?” he asked.

“Not very. He couldn’t.” Which was exactly why he never said anything to me about his plan. I had nothing to do with this.

Drew nodded. “Good.”

“Should I assume there’s more involved than just Hog Heaven?” I inquired.

“You shouldn’t assume things.”

I took that as a yes.

Drew

The media came to the football game.

I don’t know why I was surprised about it, but I was. I really should have been used to them being around, especially since the new racing division was set to blow up at any minute.

I had two endorsement deals with the ink dry, a magazine cover under my belt, and very soon, T and I would likely become a major media interest.

Maybe that’s why I was surprised. Well, not surprised as much as cautious. The press didn’t know about Trent and me yet. I knew we agreed to tell them, to basically “come out,” but we hadn’t yet.

We were going to have to be careful today.

Careful how we interacted, how we looked at each other. How we were together.

I hated it.

Yet I understood.

Ah, the paradox that was Trent and my relationship reared its ugly head.

I wanted to be free to love him, but I didn’t want to make it a thing. I just wanted to be. It wouldn’t be a thing if I were with a girl. No one would bat an eye.

I could sit here and think about how unfair it all was, how frustrating it was, and how sometimes it hurt, but really, what would it change?

Nothing today.

Tomorrow? Maybe. The interview with
GearShark
had the potential to maybe change a few things.

So today it was what it was. We would be careful. We would have been anyway because the frat didn’t know; the Wolves didn’t know.

But my parents knew. I could still taste their reaction in the back of my mouth. It tasted like rotten eggs and barf.

I knew what that shit tasted like. I’ve played the game Bean Boozled.

Bean Boozled = that disgusting game of jelly bean roulette where you had no idea what disgusting flavor you’d eat until it was exploding across your tongue.

Their reaction and even sometimes looking at Arrow made me feel incredibly insecure to tell anyone else about my relationship.

But then I looked at Trent.

The doubt didn’t go away; it would probably always be there, but it no longer seemed like something I would allow to hold me back.

The game was Omega versus the football team. I was playing with the football team. Yeah, the scrawny racer was playing with a bunch of literal pro athletes.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t die.

The football side was comprised of some Maryland Knights players like Romeo and Braeden, along with a handful of other guys, and the rest were guys from the Wolves. Even though Trent was one of the Wolves, he was playing with his frat.

Since I wasn’t a football player, it was explained to everyone who asked (which was a lot) that the reason I was playing was to represent the new racing division. Because Ron Gamble owned the Knights and the new division and he cut a huge check to the charity we were benefiting today, he requested I (his new face of racing) be allowed to play as well.

It was good press after all.

Really, I was just here so I could legally cause some bodily harm to four guys on the opposing team, but no one needed to know that except the family.

The turnout today was more than I expected. I always heard how much Alpha U loved football, but to see it was something else. 

And holy crap, did people like Romeo. He was literally swallowed whole by a huge crush of fans the second he walked onto the field. More than once, I glanced up at Rimmel in the stands, but she didn't seem fazed by it at all. It was like it was nothing new. 

Braeden was getting almost as much attention, but then again, Ivy was, too. She had her own fan base now because of her column and YouTube channel. 

The vibe of the game was casual, meaning people who’d bought tickets were allowed on the field before the game started to meet and greet the pros. It was madness, but it explained why so many tickets were sold.

Even though this idea was born out of the need for revenge, it really was a great event and supported a worthy cause. We raised a shit ton of money for the charity. Trent looked like a hero, and the frat was cast in a really good light.

The game wasn't supposed to be full contact because obviously, the frat would get their asses handed to them. It was officially flag football with tackling allowed.

Unofficially, I didn't care.

Before the game was set to start, the fans were told to find their seats, and once the field was clear, the teams retreated to their sides. It felt weird to be on the opposite side from Trent, but it was a necessity. I found him in the group across the field. It was easy because he was the biggest one.

Or maybe it was because I loved him.

When I started thinking about the way he kissed me earlier and how he said he wanted to be inside me, I had to look away. If I didn’t, I was going to look like one of those cartoon characters with hearts in their eyes.

Lame.

The press would have a damn field day.

Romeo and Braeden approached and took up position on each side of me. They both had their flags already fastened around their waist. We were wearing Knights colors, and the frat was wearing Alpha U colors. 

“Crush ‘em, but don't break ‘em,” Romeo said quietly. 

“You're getting soft in your old age,” Braeden told him. 

“At least make it look like an accident." Romeo conceded. 

Braeden offered me his fist, and we bumped it out. 

The entire team got together and talked strategy. Obviously, Romeo was the quarterback, and most other positions were filled. I was put on defense. Strange because I wasn’t that big, but no one questioned Romeo. 

Our game wasn't going to be as long as a real football game, but the fans didn't care. They cheered and flocked to the stands like nobody's business. 

I avoided the press, who was especially interested in our side of the field like a plague, and breathed a sigh of relief when they were escorted away so the game could begin. 

Our team won the coin toss, so we got the ball first. 

I smiled under the helmet when I saw three out of the four guys who attacked Trent were playing offense, including Con. I wasn't sure where the big one was, the one who’d been friends with Trent up until he started thinking T was gay. 

I looked for him earlier but had yet to lay eyes on him.

The ball was snapped and the game began. I knew the basics of football, but I wasn't an expert. It really didn't matter anyway. I went right for Conner. 

He was in my direct line of sight, and I charged him. I sank low like I knew Trent did and didn't hesitate. I bulldozed into him and took him down. He landed with an
ooomph
beneath me. I quickly "scrambled" up and "accidentally" kneed him in the balls. 

“Ugghh…” He rolled to his side. 

“Man, you okay?” I asked. “My bad.” 

He rolled onto his back and glared at me. His chest was heaving, probably because his boys were barking.

I offered him a hand to help him up, but he knocked it away. 

I smiled. “Have a good game.” 

The distinct flare of panic in his eyes when I spoke made me extremely satisfied as I turned to walk away. 

Braeden lived up to his “Hulk” status during the game. That guy was a freaking beast on the field. It was quite the contrast to the guy I saw with my niece and sister. But it sure was hella fun to watch. He took down guys like nobody’s business, and by the end of the first quarter, one of the guys who jumped Trent was escorted off the field with a limp.

As the quarterback, Romeo wasn’t really in the position to tackle, but he still managed. He ran the ball a couple times and used his upper body as a battering ram when Conner or a few other guys got in his way.

Of course, we couldn’t make it look like we were targeting a few players rougher than the others, so we couldn’t take them out every play, and we had to actually play the game.

It was fun actually.

Watching Trent in his element was awesome. The only other time I saw that kind of passion in his eyes was when he talked business with Gamble. He played quarterback for the frat. It wasn’t his usual position, but he was the best choice. Plus, it was a little less “contact” for his ribs.

I had a feeling Romeo pretty much warned his Knights players to back off Trent, and of course, the Wolves already knew about his injury because they’d been training with him while it healed.

A couple times, T got sacked, but not hard enough to reinjure him. Still, each time he went down, my heart skipped a beat. Shit, I had no idea how Rim and Ivy dealt with this all the time.

Romeo seemed to realize how I was feeling, which made me wonder if I was being obvious. Before Trent took the field again, he was at my side. “Why don’t you play out there this round?”

I glanced at him. “Why?”

“You notice Con’s out there this go around?” He hitched his chin toward the field.

“What the fuck?” I muttered. “He wouldn’t take down someone on his own team. That would look shady.”

“Unless it was an accident,” Romeo said.

I wouldn’t put it past him. He’d already taken a bunch of cheap shots at Trent. “I’m going,” I said.

Romeo called in one of the other guys, and I jogged out to take his place.

Trent glanced at me momentarily, but his eyes didn’t linger.

The ball was snapped into Trent’s hands. He held it, looking for an open pass. When he found one, he threw the ball. Most players followed the ball, but my eyes stayed on T. I even let the player by I was supposed to be blocking.

It’s a good thing. I wasn’t the only one whose eyes stayed with him. Conner cut across the field toward Trent. He shoved one of the opposing players back, and it looked pretty legit.

I knew better.

I took off in a sprint toward my person and Conner. T’s eyes locked on me and widened. Then he saw Conner, and his expression changed.

I increased my speed and ran full on, full throttle right into Con. I ran like I drove.

Balls to the wall.

We slammed together and fell in a heap. Both of us laid there stunned for a minute and then I started to pull back. Conner grabbed the front of my jersey and pulled me back.

“What the fuck is your problem, fag?”

Like oil and water, I let the slur roll off my back. “I think you know,” I snarled.

I stood up and stepped back. Con leapt to his feet and lunged at me. Our arms locked together, and we started to struggle. He tried to kick me, but I twisted away.

Trent yelled and ran forward.

I ripped off my helmet and threw it on the turf. “Come on!” I challenged Con.

Con whipped off his helmet, too, and took a step. Frat members grabbed him by the waist and restrained him.

No one restrained me, but they all gathered at my back.

“All right!” Con yelled. “All right, I’m good.”

Everyone holding him let go.

“Play!” one of the Wolves yelled, and players started to fall into position.

I took one step, a single step away, and Con rushed me. I was expecting it, though. He was a little bitch and wanted to get in at least one hit. I plated my feet and swung around, using my momentum to propel my fist.

It caught him right in the face. He went down hard.

Blood covered his nose, and he lay there, dazed.

“You’re gonna pay for that you faggot,” he slurred.

I lunged at him again, but Trent appeared and wrapped one arm around my waist to restrain me. “Down, Forrester,” he whispered beside my ear.

I pulled back, but my muscles quivered with readiness.

I wanted to punch him again so bad.

Braeden appeared and picked up Con off the ground by the front of his shirt. “The fuck you just call my brother?” he asked, holding Con up so his feet dangled.

“I called him a dirty faggot,” Con spat.

Trent tensed, and I gave him a warning look.

Braeden glanced at the nearby ref. “You gonna eject this asshole, or should I make it so he can’t play no more?”

Con started to struggle, and B batted away his attempts.