Love and Other Indoor Sports

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

ISBN: 978-1-77130-137-4

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JS Cook

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To Deanna and Damon: Challenge accepted. I hope you
approve.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’d never planned to write M/M, not really. It was always on

my maybe-someday-but-probably-not list for a very simple reason—I
was terrified I couldn’t do it. Then a dear friend introduced me to a
dear friend of hers, and the two of them issued me a challenge to try. I
was still terrified, but I have this problem of not being able to back
away from a dare. And sometimes a challenge is far too close to a
dare to make a difference. So, if you hate this story, blame me but, if
you love it, thank Deanna Wadsworth and Damon Suede because it
never would have happened without them.

It also wouldn’t have happened without a slew of beta readers

helping me along the way and making sure I didn’t just write straight
sex with two men. So a huge debt of thanks to Deanna (again),
Janelle, Branli, and Katee. Also, to my husband and kids for their
unending patience with me while I hide out in my office and stay up
way too late at night. I love you!
Finally, thanks to the Evernight team. You took on this crazy multi-
author, shared-world series when I pitched it and have embraced it at
every step so far. We’re building slowly, but I hope you are proud
with where we’re going.

LOVE AND OTHER INDOOR SPORTS

Cupid’s Conquests

Seleste deLaney

Prologue

Music pulsed, and lights over the dance floor strobed in time

with the beat. Eros leaned against the bar, nursing a headache and the
same drink he’d been sipping for an hour. Hades, he missed the nectar
of the gods. Still, the Rose Bowl Cosmo was tasty... and large enough
to last. He put the straw between his lips and sucked in a long
swallow.

“For exile, you don’t have it all that bad, brother. Imbibing at

a location so ripe for the picking—either for your mission or
yourself.” With a lascivious grin, his brother Pothos tipped his head
toward a trio of coeds staring at them from the dance floor. His
expression shifted quickly to a sour wince as he took a swallow of
wine. “Though the vintage could use a little help.”

While Pothos worked his mojo on the wine, Eros attempted to

lure the coeds toward the bar. The minute their gaze shifted from
Pothos’s long chestnut waves to him, they started giggling and turned
away to resume grinding against each other. So much for his chance
at a fun night with his brother and the ladies. He let out a sigh and
tossed the straw, raising the bowl to his lips instead.

Pothos savored a sip of his wine. “Much better. By the way,

have you lost more hair since I saw you last?”

“Yeah. And you apparently forgot your manners.” Eros swept

a hand over his bald pate. Damn Zeus and the hair thing. Banished
until he fixed the sorry state of love on earth was bad enough without
this. “Gah. I need to get back to work. The drinks might be decent,
but without a little loving of my own, it’s not any fun.”

“And you think you’re going to find someone here that’s

ready for true love? It’s a college campus, Eros. Half the people here
just want to get laid. And the other half will wake up with broken
hearts in the morning.”

Looking around the club at the drunken college kids and the

nearly as drunk alumni pouring through the door, Eros couldn’t really
argue, but he sure as hell wasn’t planning to leave without trying.
Besides, the way Pothos said he couldn’t made him bristle. “That
sounds like a challenge, brother.”

The laughter that erupted next to him drew everyone’s

attention—exactly what Eros tried to avoid when with his godly
companions. Pothos just waved a hand through the air though. In a
shimmer of light, a bewildered haze settled over the patrons and they
returned to their drinks and dancing. “I’ll tell you what, if you can
match up one of mine, I’ll put in a good word for you. See if Zeus
will let Erato visit for a little reward.”

“One of yours?” Pothos was the god of longing—sexual or

otherwise—for the unattainable. One of his people likely meant
someone obsessed with a movie star. Not exactly convenient, or
realistic, especially out here in the sticks. “You don’t ask much, do
you?”

“I would never give you an impossible task. I’m not that cruel.

No, brother, this one wants something that is here, in easy reach. He’s
just too afraid to see it for what it is.” Pothos drained his wine glass
and tipped it toward the door. “There he is, and his match is here, on
this very campus. They should have been together long ago, but...
circumstances and your absence on this plane for so long... well, it
never happened. What do you say?”

Eros eyed the man standing awkwardly near the entrance.

Already women were turning his way, admiring the way the alum’s
old letterman jacket stretched across his broad shoulders. With his
strong jaw and chiseled, boy-next-door good looks, the guy could
have any woman he wanted. He shouldn’t need divine help at all.
Styx! The bastard even had a full head of glossy black-as-night hair!

As he stared, Eros decided he really didn’t want to help the

guy. Then a golden-haired beauty sidled up to Pothos’s side, and Eros
felt an uncomfortable tightening in his loins. Erato. It wasn’t her, but
damn, just the blonde waves made him yearn to have her wrapped

around him again. Hades, for that, he’d make every beautiful man on
the planet fall in love.

“Yeah. I’m in.” He raised the bowl to his lips again.
Before he managed to tip it up and take a drink, Pothos

pressed his hands to the glass, making it glow. “Drink up, brother. I
said it wasn’t impossible, but this one is not going to be easy.”

With a swirl of darkness, Pothos disappeared, just more smoke

rising toward the vents. Giving a snort, Eros swallowed the last of his
drink. His eyes widened and he hoped Zeus didn’t catch wind of
Pothos’s gift. Nectar of the gods. Eros licked the inside of the bowl,
not caring who saw. If Pothos had given him this, it meant he really
had his work cut out for him.

Spin the Bottle

Griff never should have gone to the bar last night. From the

minute he walked inside, girls started swarming, and none of his
former teammates could understand why he left alone.

Hell, a part of him wondered too. He liked sex with women

fine and had a trail of ex-girlfriends a mile or so long to prove it.
Women were what he’d been taught... what was expected of him. A
wife. Babies. His folks were leaning on him hard for still being single.
How could he explain to them that he’d never connected with a
woman in his life? Never felt that spark?

He’d only ever felt it with one person—right in this very

building.

Now that he was standing in the foyer of the Delta Chi

fraternity house for the first time in years, he wondered if ditching the
girls had been the best plan. After all, it would have been easy enough
to grab the trio that attacked him on the dance floor. They seemed
almost as into each other as they were into him. He could have taken
them back to his hotel, made up some bullshit excuse about an injury,
and then told them he just wanted to watch. At least then he wouldn’t
have to worry what the rest of the team said about him leaving the bar
alone. His bogus reputation would still be intact.

He sighed and eased the front door shut behind him. None of it

mattered. He was here for a week and then he was going back home.
Let the guys think what they wanted, even if it was the truth. As soon
as next weekend was over, he’d be back to his normal life and its
awkward string of first dates that led nowhere. Hopefully he could
hold off on trying another relationship for a while. Maybe some
woman would come along who’d just knock his socks off.

It was bound to happen eventually, right?
He almost laughed at the thought. Griff wished he were brave

enough to come out of the closet. Wished he could find a guy worth
doing that for, but even with men... none of them had ever made his
heart trip over itself trying to beat since the first time.

A thin layer of dust collected on his fingers as he trailed them

along the mahogany stained wainscoting. Obviously, they hadn’t
cleaned for the big weekend yet. Griff wasn’t the only brother who

had played in the Rose Bowl ten years before. At least three of them
would be invading the house soon enough.

He didn’t realize where he was going until he stopped in front

of the entryway to the common room. It was the main public area of
the house—generally the best kept—but it was also the room where
he’d gone through hazing twelve years ago. His knuckles turned white
as he gripped the archway. Right there. By the fireplace...

“Hey, aren’t you Jacob Griffin? Defensive tackle?”
The voice startled him so badly, he jerked his hand away from

the wall, wondering for a second how he didn’t yank part of the wood
with him. “Yeah. Well I used to be. The ACL injury senior year kind
of put the pro plans to bed in a hurry. Sorry, I always did suck with
names, and I seem to have completely forgotten yours.”

Then again, he thought he’d remember a guy like the one in

front of him. Barely five-seven, a bit on the chubby side and bald as
the day he was born. Griff couldn’t remember a single frat brother
who looked anything like him.

Eyes twinkling like he knew something Griff wasn’t privy to,

the guy grinned and said, “Chris. Chris Erosou. And no worries, I
wore glasses then and had a lot more hair.”

The name wasn’t ringing a bell either, but Griff shook the

guy’s hand. “The hair—that must be it.”

“Yeah, it started going right after graduation and a few years

in, I shaved the rest off. Bald is beautiful and all that crap.” He
shrugged then jerked his head toward the common room. “Lots of
memories in there, huh?”

“Good and bad.”
Chris shrugged. “Hazing’s part of the gig; we all know that

coming in.” When Griff didn’t respond, he kept on talking. “So who
was yours anyway?”

The question should have startled him, but Griff had been

thinking about it ever since he set foot on campus again. No. That was
a lie. He’d been thinking about it ever since it happened. “Colby
Marsters. He dropped out of the pledge class shortly after.”

“That’s right—I remember now. Have you seen him?”
Did every time he closed his eyes count? “No. After he left, I

got buried in the frat, classes, and football.”

Chris’s laugh echoed through the empty common room. “I

meant since you’ve been back.”

He stepped into the room, and Griff followed, curious what he

meant. “Why would he be here? He wasn’t on the football team.”
Sure it was Homecoming and the reunion for the winning Rose Bowl
team, but most regular visitors wouldn’t show up until Friday at the
earliest.

“Nope. Soccer, but that isn’t what I meant.” Chris stopped on

the far side of the gilt-framed coat of arms and leaned against the
wall, staring at Griffin. “You do know he works here, right?”

Time seemed to freeze around them while Griff’s head spun.

He reached toward the wall for balance, and his hand slid down the
edge of the coat of arms. He hissed a breath through his teeth—a tiny
golden splinter that looked almost like an arrow was stuck in his hand.
He used the precious seconds it took to pull the piece of the frame
free to collect his thoughts. Colby was here. Had been here for who
knew how long. He licked his lips and tried to make the question
sound casual. “I didn’t know. What does he do?”

“He’s a coach. Women’s soccer last I heard, which means he’s

likely at the gym or field house right now.”

Griff nodded absently, but his mind wasn’t in the present

anymore: it had drifted back a dozen years to the day they’d stood in
this very room and the pledges were ordered to play a ridiculous game
of spin the bottle... with each other. Sixty seconds of kissing another
guy, and if you broke the kiss before the timer ran out, you had to go
again.

As much as he hated the hazing bullshit, he hadn’t had a

choice about pledging. Delta Chi had been his father’s fraternity and
his grandfather’s before that. So, unlike some of the others, he hadn’t
balked at playing the game. Sure, he’d always been able to look at
other guys and, just like with women, find them attractive or not. But
that didn’t mean anything. As far as he’d been concerned, just
because it was his first time kissing a guy didn’t mean it couldn’t also
be his last. One and done, like so many other things he didn’t want to
but had to do.

Colby had looked almost as nervous as Griff felt by the time

they stood in front of the group. Of course the laughter from the other
pledges at Colby’s “ball handler” t-shirt didn’t help. But neither of
them even cracked a smile. They were both athletes and trained to
hate losing, so they’d shared a silent nod before moving in. Clearly,
neither of them planned on doing this more than once.

Then his lips had met Colby’s, and Griffin’s world shattered.
Before that moment, he’d always thought kissing was just

kissing, but Colby took control in a way he’d never felt. Part of his
brain had screamed he should be in charge—after all he was bigger,
stronger—but he didn’t want to. Later he told himself that if they’d
both tried to be the dominant kisser they would have broken before
the timer ran out. It was a lie. From their first touch, he wanted to let
Colby lead, loved the way it felt to be taken by someone else. No, not
just that. Taken in a way no woman had ever matched. Before, or
after.

He’d spent that night lying awake, trying to figure out what it

all meant. The next evening, he’d stumbled, exhausted, into the house
only to find out Colby wasn’t coming back. Obviously whatever he’d
felt hadn’t been reciprocated. What had ruined him for every
woman—and man—that came later had driven Colby away from the
fraternity entirely.

Feeling the ghost of the kiss on his lips once more—throbbing

in time with the pain from the splinter—Griff knew he couldn’t stay
away. He needed to see Colby again, if only to get the soccer player
out of his system once and for all. “Cool. I might have to take a walk
over there.”

“Coach, you need to look at this.”
Colby groaned. He’d already sent the girls off to hit the

showers and was really looking forward to putting his practice notes
into the computer, brainstorming a couple new drills, and going home
so he could change and take a run. But with the way his assistant
coach, Deanna, waved the papers in her hand, leaving soon might not
be an option.

“What’s wrong?”
She slapped the papers into his outstretched palm. “It’s

Desirée. Her mid-term report to be exact.”

Crap. Desirée was their star goalie. He’d recruited her

personally and promised her family he’d make certain she stayed
eligible. The tutors he’d hired were supposed to be some of the best
on campus.

The information on the papers argued otherwise. Regardless of

how many hours of tutoring her scholarship paid for, she was failing
two of her core classes and barely passing another one. The A in her

Phys Ed elective wasn’t going to be anywhere near enough to make a
difference to her average.

With half the semester left, there was still time to fix it though.

He scrubbed at his face, wondering what exactly he’d have to do in
order to get her to put in the work. “Have you talked to her yet?”

Deanna cocked her hip out and stared him down, blue eyes

flashing as she battled against a smile and lost. “Not my job,
handsome. In case you forgot, Rée is not particularly fond of me.
You, on the other hand… She’s a big fan.”

Too big a fan. Ever since she set foot on campus, she’d made

no attempts to hide what she wanted. And what she wanted more than
anything—other than a pro-soccer career—was her coach in her
bed… or wherever she decided they should have sex. When Deanna
had pulled her aside to inform her that Colby didn’t swing that way
and could lose his job even if he was interested, Rée had not-so-
politely told the assistant coach to mind her own business. Fuck and
off were some of the nicer words involved. As far as Rée was
concerned, there wasn’t a man alive who didn’t want her, regardless
of his sexual orientation.

If the team had any sort of decent back-up goalie, Colby

would have sent her packing weeks ago. As it was it’d be his job if he
intentionally sabotaged the team by cutting her.

He let out a deep sigh. “I’ll get with her tutors. Tell her I want

to talk to her before she leaves.”

Deanna took the papers and bumped his hip with hers. “Better

you than me, Coach Studmuffin.”

She sauntered off laughing, but Colby just closed his eyes and

stretched, wishing for the thousandth time he’d listened to his gut and
brought in the other freshman goalie instead. She’d had the grades but
not quite as much natural ability. Stupid, stupid, and very fucking
stupid of him.

This campus seemed to bring out the stupid in Colby though,

had from the beginning. It started during his own freshman year, back
when he was still in the closet with the door firmly shut. What had he
been smoking that he thought rushing a fraternity would be a good
idea? Whatever it was, he’d jumped on the Greek bandwagon with
both feet. Then he’d met Jacob Griffin, and he knew he was
screwed—and not in the good way.

It didn’t matter that he wanted to keep his secret. He was

drawn to the big muscly football player in ways he couldn’t
understand, regardless of the fact he soon found out Jacob had a
girlfriend—a dancer no less. When the time came to choose a frat to
pledge, Colby had followed him through the doors of Delta Chi.

But when fate had determined that the two of them end up

paired for that ridiculous game of spin-the-bottle, he knew he’d never
be able to keep his sexual orientation a secret. He’d wanted to kiss
Jacob all through rush. Shit, he’d wanted to do more than that, but
he’d convinced himself he could just be the guy’s friend. Now, forced
into the kiss, he knew at the very least Jacob would figure it out. He
couldn’t pretend the others wouldn’t see how much he wanted it, how
much he’d likely enjoy it.

He wouldn’t be able to fool any of them, which meant he had

to walk away. But he’d be damned if he was going to do it without
taking full advantage of the kiss. Colby had never been the guy who
pretended to be straight by dating girls, but he’d never kissed a
straight guy before either. His only experience was with others just as
terrified of who they were as he was. As he stepped toward Jacob, he
trembled, unsure what to expect. Considering the circumstances, the
last thing he’d expected was for it to change his world.

He’d gone into the kiss hard and fast, desperate to make the

most of those precious sixty seconds. For the first time in his life, he’d
been bold about what he wanted, commanding all of Jacob’s attention
from that first touch, almost daring him to pull away, but neither of
them did.

To this day, Colby remembered the way Jacob’s lips had

parted beneath his, even as the football player shuddered. Their
tongues slid against each other, tasting of beer and forbidden fruit.
Sixty seconds hadn’t been nearly long enough. In twelve years, Colby
had never had another kiss like it.

He ran his tongue over his lips like he could still taste it, but it

wasn’t there. It’d never be there again. Shoulders slumping, he sighed
and opened his eyes. His breath caught, and Colby wondered
fleetingly if the ball that caught him in the head earlier had done
serious damage because he had to be dreaming.

Across the expanse of the gym he met the steady green gaze of

the very man he’d thought he would only ever see in his memory.
Jacob’s jet-black hair was only a touch longer than the military style

Mouse Trap

Christ, when Colby had bailed on the frat twelve years ago,

he’d been a scrawny thing and so clean-cut it had made Griff feel
dirty. When Griff saw him across the gym tonight, he’d done a double
take. Gone were the tightly buttoned-up shirts and the carefully
combed hair and the nervous hand gestures. This Colby was someone
else entirely.

Now his blond hair was longer and worn mussed, like he

didn’t have patience to deal with styling it or getting it cut. Hours out
in the sun playing soccer had kept his skin golden brown, but it had
also weathered lines onto his face. Still trim, he’d added about twenty
pounds of muscle to his frame, obvious in the way the sleeves of his t-
shirt clung to his biceps. And if those biceps were any indication,
Colby Marsters had covered a decent chunk of his body in tattoos.

Griffin couldn’t make them out from this distance, but there

were a lot. Full sleeves from what he could tell. Who knew how many
more under his clothes. In that instant, Griff wanted very badly to find
out.

Then the woman with the sandy blonde waves strutted up to

him, and Griff had to watch as they laughed and flirted. The way
Colby smirked at her when she bumped her narrow hip against his
made Griff’s fantasy about finding the rest of Colby’s tattoos shrivel
up and disappear.

Just as he’d always suspected, Colby Marsters was as straight

as they came. Hell, he looked like the kind of guy you met in the dark
alley behind the local biker bar. Not the kind you took with you to
finally venture into your first gay bar.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he stepped forward,

enticed by the challenge. It didn’t take long to realize what he was
contemplating and stop. Just as he was about to turn around and bolt
out of the gym, Colby’s gaze met his, and he melted to the spot.

Damn it to hell and back. No one should have this much

control over someone else. Especially not more than a decade later.

It was too late to run though. So, awkward as it felt, he forced

his lips into some semblance of a smile as Colby strode toward him.
“Hey.”

Colby blinked like he was seeing a ghost. “Jacob?”

He jerked as if waking from a dream—one that involved the

now instead of the Delta Chi common room twelve years earlier. “I
don’t think anyone’s called me that since freshman year—except
maybe my mom. I pretty much go by Griff or Griffin everywhere
now. How have you been, Colby?”

“Good.” He tipped his head to the side. “Not to seem like an

ass, but you’re the last person I expected to see here.”

Griff wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. What had he

expected? That he’d waltz in here, sweep Colby into his arms, and
make out in a dark corner until he worked this shit out of his system
so he could move on? Wishing he hadn’t come to the Fieldhouse in
the first place, he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, trying
to figure out an answer to the question that didn’t make him sound
like a complete idiot.

Colby shook his head fiercely. “That came out wrong. I’m just

surprised is all.”

He could do this. What it was he planned to do, Griff wasn’t

sure, but he could make it through whatever this was. “You know, it’s
a funny story. I’m here for the Rose Bowl reunion at homecoming,
and I was at the D-Chi house poking around. Some guy that I don’t
even remember cornered me there, and your name came up. I didn’t
really feel like hanging at the bar, fending off coeds again tonight, and
even though I haven’t seen you since freshman year...” Nope, this
wasn’t working at all.

“You figured that I was the only other ‘old guy’ on campus?

We’re not that old, Ja... Griff.” A door slammed, and Colby’s eyes
shifted toward the noise.

A young woman strode over, slender with the kind of curves

whose very existence made straight men get hard. She cocked her hip
and flashed Griff a smile that was all perfect white teeth. Like
Goddamned Chiclets lined up in her mouth. Her attention shifted
almost immediately, as did her stance. Subtle changes turned her from
proud, strong athlete to sex kitten in zero-point-two seconds flat.
“You wanted to see me, Coach?”

Shit. He couldn’t even look at her as competition. This is what

Colby had chosen to surround himself with—women with incredible
bodies who clearly had fawned over him. Griff didn’t have boobs or
hips or those insane dick-sucking lips. Hell, he couldn’t even compare

with her skin. He’d have to tan for years to come close to her
flawless, naturally copper-colored skin.

He’d been so fixated on the girl, Colby’s words took a while

to break through. “—Take care of it, okay? And keep me in the loop.”

She stuck her lip out in an exaggerated pout. “That puts a

major damper on my weekend plans.”

“And not doing it would put a major damper on your career

plans. The team needs you, Rée. ”

“What about you?” She edged closer to Colby, and Griff

debated leaving. Watching this felt wrong on far too many levels.

“I recruited you, didn’t I? Now go get to work.”
Her eyes flashed toward Griff, and he sensed a note of

hostility in their dark depths. Then in a swirl of bronze-streaked,
kinky curls, she spun and sashayed toward the door, her hips swinging
more now than they had when she first approached them. Griff had to
shake himself to stop watching her.

Colby huffed out a breath. “Sorry about that. Work’s never

done.”

“Seems like it.” He swallowed jealousy like a bitter pill.

“Great gig though. Surrounded by younger women who think you
hang the moon and the stars? Could be worse.”

“It works for me. Wish it paid as well as coaching the men

though.” He waved Griff toward the door. “I need to do a little
paperwork and finish up here, but I’d like to catch up. Would you be
interested in meeting for a run in about an hour? Maybe grab dinner
or something after?”

He should’ve said no. Obviously, Colby wasn’t going to be

interested in reliving their last meeting and Griff most definitely
was—whatever excuses he’d made about coming here. He knew he
should back away from this as fast as he could before he did
something stupid.

“Name the time and place.”
Because obviously a bad end was infinitely better than no end.

Colby had rushed through the last of his work blindly. Back at

his place, he stared at the sweatpants and jacket he’d left out for his
run. Utilitarian to be sure, but now he was going to run with Griff.

Damn, even the name did bad things to his head. It had been

so much safer when Jacob Griffin was just a memory. Especially after

seeing the way he’d eyed Desirée as she left, it would have been for
the best to leave him securely in the realm of fantasy and memory.

Then he’d invited Griff to go running. What kind of fucking

masochist was he? The kind that shouldn’t show up, that’s what kind.

He slid his pants down and froze with them around his ankles.

Ditching the run after he asked Griff to join him would also make him
the worst kind of coward.

Shit.
He kicked off his pants and stared at the sweats again. Fuck it.

If he was going, he was going balls-out—only not literally. And the
fact that he was thinking about his balls just proved how big a
clusterfuck tonight was destined to become.

And why the hell did he ask him to go running anyway?

Maybe because, “Hey, let’s get hot and sweaty together” was a little
too forward. Or maybe because he’d been thinking about running and
blurted it out. Yeah. He was going with the latter.

Grabbing a pair of shorts that showed off his legs, he put an

end to the mental battle. In an effort to not look like he was trying too
hard though, he left on the t-shirt he’d worn at practice and slid on his
hooded jacket. He put a little more thought into clothes for after. Dark
jeans that hugged his thighs and a short sleeved button-down. Casual
enough to look like he’d just tossed it together, which made it perfect.

A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot behind the

student gym and jerked his duffel from the back seat. A short guy
with a shaved head dashed toward the car next to him. Light caught
on the edge of his key and made it gleam gold, the cuts in the metal
giving the gleam an arrow-like shape.

Colby tried to move out of the guy’s way, but the key still

caught him on the thigh just below the edge of his shorts, scratching
deep. He let out a hiss and grabbed his leg. It hurt so badly for a
second that a pain-hallucination actually made it look like the scrape
shone with gold.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry! I’ve got a date with this chick and my

workout took longer than I thought and—”

“It’s fine. I’ve had all my shots.” Colby forced a smile. As a

guy who wished he was meeting up for a hot date rather than an
awkward run around campus, he wasn’t going to hold a grudge.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The kid edged toward the red

sedan even as he said it.

Colby wanted to laugh. “Yeah, I’m badass enough to handle

this. Just drive more carefully than you run, not sure any woman is
worth getting in a wreck for.”

The kid grinned. “She’s a goddess. You’d be surprised the

things I’m willing to suffer for her.”

Now he did laugh as he turned toward the gym. “Have fun.”
“You too, Colby.”
At the sound of his name, Colby whipped back around, but the

red car was already pulling out of its space. Before he’d taken a step,
it had zoomed out of the parking lot. He frowned but shook it off. He
was so on edge about meeting Griff, he was hearing things. It was the
only logical explanation.

After showing his staff ID to get a pair of keys, he made his

way to the locker room. Griff was waiting for him, a pair of running
pants slung low on his hips, matching jacket zipped almost all the way
up. He pushed off the wall, smiling in a way that made it look like he
was blushing. “Hey. I almost called you and bowed out. Except I
didn’t have your number.”

Colby froze, echoes of his own earlier worries reverberating in

his head. “Not in the mood to run?”

“No. It’s... stupid.” Now he really looked embarrassed. “My

luggage didn’t make it, and I thought I had all my workout clothes in
my carry-on. And I did...except t-shirts.”

Struggling not to let it show, Colby swallowed hard. “Hence

the zipped up look?”

“Yeah.”
In need of a distraction, Colby pulled his phone from his

pocket. “Give me your number and I’ll text you. Then you’ve got
mine. Should have done it before. I could have brought you a t-shirt.”

As soon as Griff rattled off his number, he said, “I appreciate

it, but your shirts wouldn’t fit me.”

He shrugged. Sure they would. They just would have been

really tight and showed off every single one of your muscles which
would leave you looking almost as good as naked. Shit. He needed to
stop thinking like that. He shoved open the door in front of them and
led the way to their lockers.

As soon as they’d stowed their gear, they made their way

outside, where Colby bent into a quick stretch. “What are you up
for?”

The words were out of his mouth before he realized how they

sounded. Of course, Griff’s response came easily enough; the
question must have only sounded dirty in Colby’s head.

“Take the lead and I’ll do my best to keep up.”
Colby’s mind immediately took that idea and ran with it—to

places he shouldn’t be going. “You’ve got it.”

He started jogging away from the lights and the people, his

thoughts making him hotter than the run had any hope of doing.

Seven Minutes in Heaven

The wind cooled the burn that rose in Griffin’s cheeks. If he

wasn’t careful, he was really going to say something stupid. It didn’t
help to see Colby run either. The man moved with the grace of a
damn dancer, and he was fast. Crazy fast.

It made Griff wish he’d seen him play when they were in

school. But he’d been too scared to keep track of Colby then. Too
embarrassed by what he’d felt. Too unsure of himself. Not that he was
doing much better now. A braver man would have admitted why he
showed up tonight.

Instead he was here, trying to keep up while watching Colby

from the corner of his eye and sweating like he was running in the
middle of the hottest day in August rather than after sunset in
October. “Hold up,” he panted.

“Giving up on me already?” Colby kept jogging while Griff

caught his breath.

“No. Just too damned hot. You run like a fucking gazelle. No

wonder lions hunt in packs.” And there he went again. Yes, Colby, I’m
hunting you and your very fine ass.

“Actually, lions don’t do much hunting. They leave that to the

women. Lions just feast.”

Griff unzipped his jacket, trying not to think about feasting on

the gazelle in front of him right now. “Fair enough. I just need to cool
down a little bit if I have any hope of keeping up.”

“I can... slow down.”
He had the jacket balled in his fist and wiped at his neck

before he noticed the strange expression on Colby’s face. Suddenly he
felt oddly naked, which was ridiculous. Probably just projecting his
own desires on Colby. Better if they simply got back to running.

“Nah, I’m good as long as I’m not sweltering.”
Colby blinked slowly, twisted back toward their path, and set

off at a jog again. “I refuse to give you a heart attack, old man. I’ll
slow down.”

“I told you the whole avoiding the students thing wasn’t what

I meant when I came looking for you.” But he had never told him the
real reason either—he’d been saved by the girl with the curves. This
time, he was saved from questions by the exertion. Colby didn’t try to

talk to him but, as good as his word, he did slow down, loping easily
next to Griff.

As much as Griff wanted to watch Colby, he kept his eyes

forward, intent on where he put his feet rather than the fact that the
guy he’d dreamed about far too often was right next to him, close
enough to touch, to kiss, to...

Focus. Just run. Send the blood that wants so badly to rush to

your damn cock to work elsewhere.

Of course, as soon as he stopped looking at Colby, he couldn’t

help feeling like the soccer coach was watching him. God, he must
look desperate, running shirtless. Hey, check out my pecs! Griff
wanted to disappear. He should have stuck with sweating, but this run
was killing him in so many other ways already he couldn’t deal with
the heat on top of everything else.

If he just pretended it was no big deal, hopefully Colby

wouldn’t think otherwise. As it was, he’d already made the point of
saying he didn’t have a t-shirt. Because the lost luggage excuse was
sure to have gone over so well. If he survived tonight at all, it would
be a miracle.

They ran without even attempting conversation, though Griff

was pretty sure Colby could have sung the national anthem without
too much trouble. Griff thought he’d stayed in good shape until this.
Now he couldn’t help but glance down at his abs to make sure they
were as solid as he remembered. No matter what else, he needed to
make sure to add more cardio to his workouts. Even if he wasn’t
worried about making an ass of himself with sexual innuendo, his
inability to keep up was humiliating. Eight years earlier he’d been
scouted by the NFL, for crying out loud. Now he was being dusted by
a hot soccer coach.

No. No more thinking about him as hot. He’s just Colby. An

old classmate... sort of. Friendly run and polite conversation. Then
you can go back to your little world and know there wasn’t a chance
in hell of this ever developing into anything more.

Never in his life had he been as happy about finishing a

workout as he was when the student gym came into view. Being fully
clothed again would put him a little more at ease. Still breathing hard,
they walked around the building once to cool down then made their
way into the brightly lit hallways.

“Did you have any thoughts on what you’d like to do for

dinner?” Colby asked, breaking the silence. “Most of the old standbys
are still here. The pizzeria with the fantastic deep dish has started
doing gourmet pizzas now.”

Thank God! Sane conversation. Hopefully he wouldn’t put his

foot in his mouth with more Freudian slips. “Actually if we were
going to catch up, maybe someplace a little quieter?”

Griffin winced. So much for no innuendo. Next he’d be saying

Let me slip into something a little more comfortable.

Inside the locker room, Colby grabbed a couple towels from a

rack, tossing one to Griff as he stripped off his jacket and draped it
over a hook. “How about sushi then? There’s a place not too far from
here, but it doesn’t get a lot of student traffic.”

Griff heard him but couldn’t get his mouth to work in order to

respond. He’d forgotten one reason he’d always had a love-hate
relationship with the student gym.

The showers in the locker room were all open. There was no

place to hide while the two of them were in here. Hot. Naked. Wet.
And together.

He was doomed.

Normally Colby would drive home and clean up there, but

offering that tonight sent way too many possible messages.
Everything from I’m not comfortable seeing you naked to I’d like to
take you home and fuck you silly.

And the latter was too damn close to the truth. When Griff

took his jacket off outside, Colby had to force himself not to stare.
Back when they were students, he’d never had the opportunity to see
Griffin without his shirt on. If he looked half this good back then...
His arms were huge, biceps bulging like he’d worked them right
before he came out to run. And his pecs. Holy crap. How did he hide
that glorious chest under his clothes so effectively? And why?

Colby didn’t know how he was going to keep from staring

while they showered. His curiosity would get the best of him and he’d
want to see how well Griff’s package fit with the rest of his...
package.

Oh well. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.
Nervous as he was, he turned away and peeled off his shirt.

Maybe if Griff noticed the gay pride flag worked into the piece on his

right shoulder, it would at least break the ice for them to discuss what
happened the last time they’d seen each other. It took a will of iron,
but he didn’t glance back to see if Griff was getting undressed.
Instead he strode up to the showers and twisted on the spray.

“Shit that’s cold.” He edged clear for a minute, catching sight

of Griff’s shoes as he kicked them toward the wall. “Want me to grab
one for you so it warms up?”

“Nah. I got it.”
The voice was close. Too damn close. The scratch on his leg

from that fucking key started to itch, and the more it burned, the more
he wanted to turn around and taste Griff’s lips again. See if it felt the
same. An image of him pinning Griff to the wall, their bodies pressed
tight together as water sluiced over their skin surged to his mind, and
his cock started to betray him in the worst possible way. It twitched,
getting harder by the second.

Fuck! No. Not fuck. Think non-sexual thoughts. Do not think

about the fact that he’s naked and right behind you.

Of course the image in his mind immediately shifted to him

behind Griff, hands sliding over his ass...

Stop it!
Colby ducked back under the spray, no longer caring if it was

cold. Hell, cold might even help, at least long enough to get some
damn pants back on. He tried like mad to focus on scrubbing himself
clean. Too bad every time he reached toward the soap dispenser in the
wall, he cursed himself for not bringing decent body wash and also
caught a glimpse of Griffin. The curve of his very fine ass. The
shadow of his cock when he turned just so.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Colby scrubbed at his hair.
This shouldn’t be so damn hard. You’ve been out of the closet

for years. Just talk to him. What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll be
homophobic and scream about showering next to you? Okay that
would be kind of bad, but still. He seems like a decent guy, no matter
how long he paused before getting undressed and showering.

The ridiculous mental conversation didn’t help him decide

what to do, but it did have one good effect. The distraction had finally
put Colby’s growing erection to sleep. For the rest of the shower, he
managed to not look at Griff at all, and he walked straight over to his
towel as soon as he turned off the spray.

Only once he was safely in his jeans did he look back. Griffin

twisted off the tap and shifted toward the toilet stalls.

“I’ll be right back. I need to...” his voice trailed off when he

noticed Colby watching him. He didn’t move to cover himself, but he
didn’t stick around either.

Colby swallowed hard and called after him. “I’ll be in the

hall.”

He threw on his shirt, grabbed the bag with his sweaty clothes

in it, and rushed out of the locker room. Freed from the steam and the
heat, he sucked in a deep breath and sagged against the wall. He never
should have turned around. A smart man would have just put his
damn clothes on and stared at the fucking wall. But no, he had to try
for one last glimpse of that glorious, bitable ass.

Instead, he’d seen what a hint of shadow hadn’t given him.

Griffin’s dick stood at attention, all eight or more inches of it. Just
thinking about it made Colby’s twitch in response again.

He dropped his bag and splayed his hands flat against the wall.

This night was turning into one dose of insanity after another. Griffin
was straight. No matter what else, he needed to get that through his
damn head.

But even as the scratch on his thigh burned again from his

jeans rubbing against it, he couldn’t help but wonder why he was
putting himself through this kind of torture—delicious or not.

Clue

He’d been so close to Colby. Too damn close. He could smell

the sweat on Colby’s skin and even tell the difference between the
way it clung to his hair and neck compared to the water that beaded
on his arms. Griff’s fingers had itched to reach out and touch him,
caress his skin, cup the curve of his ass.

Was it any wonder his damn cock had reared to life? Of

course, he’d turned away, but he couldn’t exactly jerk off with Colby
standing right there. So he’d twisted the water as cold as he could
stand it, hoping that would help.

It hadn’t. The spray needled his skin and only made him yearn

for other contact. Something warmer.

He’d waited until Colby was done, assuming he’d be busy

drying off and getting dressed, and then shut off his own water. But
he’d only taken a couple steps toward the toilets when Colby spotted
him.

Christ. A fucking raging hard-on after standing next to him in

the shower for only a few minutes.

He’d bolted, and now he stood in the stall, the door locked

behind him as he worked his cock. His hand, slick with spit, slid and
squeezed and pumped. He had to be quick about this.

What the hell had Colby thought? Probably the damn truth.

Well, that’d make dinner interesting.

But thinking about Colby just brought the image of his naked

body to mind. All those long, lean muscles, and the artwork only
made them sexier. He wanted to trace the tattoos with his tongue and
come all over them. The thought of decorating Colby’s body himself
pushed Griff over the edge and his legs stiffened. He pumped his cock
slowly three more times, cum shooting into the toilet as he rocked
back on his heels.

He wanted to sag against the door but braced himself with a

hand on the wall instead. No matter what else, he couldn’t hang out in
here any longer. Every minute made it look worse. He took a few
seconds to wipe off the rim of the toilet and flush before rushing to
get dressed. At least he was mostly dry when he reached his clothes.

By the time he made it to the hallway, Colby was sitting with

his head in his hands. It was worse than Griff thought.

“Hey. Sorry about that. It uh... happens sometimes when I

work out. This time the damn shower just made it worse.” He’d heard
that happened to some guys. Adrenaline and increased blood flow or
some such crap. Hopefully the lie would pass.

Colby tipped his head up and a smile lit his eyes. “That’s the

worst. You ready to grab some food and a couple drinks?”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Griff nodded, maybe a little too

enthusiastically. “Yeah. Let’s do that. This place reeks of sweat and
moldy socks.”

Colby chuckled as he pushed to his feet. “I’ll drive.”
Without another word, he led the way out of the gym, nodding

at students who said hello as they passed. Griff had forgotten what a
meat-market the student gym was. Everywhere, students were coming
on to each other—some of them so blatantly they should have worn
signs declaring themselves as the Big Bad Wolf. Especially the
muscle-bound blond towering over a tiny redhead near the entrance.
Griffin half-expected to hear the guy say All the better to eat you with,
my dear as they passed. He could only hope, hard-on excepted, he
hadn’t made that big a fool of himself.

They didn’t talk much on the way to the restaurant, and Griff

worried he had been that obvious. As soon as the waiter took their
order, he decided to get back on some sort of safe ground.

“I’m curious about something.”
Sipping his water, Colby arched an eyebrow at him.
Sports were safe, right? “Coaches of men’s teams make more

than those of women’s teams. Hell, assistant coaches of men’s sports
often make more than head coaches of women’s. Why the girls?”

Colby set his glass down, fingers tracing the rim. As he

opened his mouth, a different waiter dropped off their drinks.

“Beer again tonight, Coach? If you’re going to come here, you

really need to embrace the flavor. At least your friend here has the
right idea.” He slid a bottle of one of the local microbrews toward
Colby and poured sake into the choko in front of Griff. “Your food
should be up shortly. Enjoy. See you later, Coach.”

The waiter eyed Griff for a second before slinking away with a

walk that showed off his ass. Not flaming, but definitely advertising.
Griff wondered what he’d done that had given him away. His gaydar

sucked. Always had. His only saving grace was the fact that he liked
women for sex too. Normally it made him more difficult for people to
peg.

When he turned back around, Colby was watching him, brow

furrowed. Griff wanted to hide under the table. There was no chance
of hiding the real reason for his earlier hard-on now. Colby had just
caught him checking out the damn waiter’s ass. He opened his mouth
ready to spill everything.

“I went for the women’s team because the assistants on the

men’s team tend to get shoved to the shadows. There was no chance
to shine there, which meant there wasn’t much chance of something
better happening. Plus, being around women all the time takes care of
certain other problems.” Frown gone, Colby picked up his beer and
took a long swallow.

The message couldn’t have been much clearer. Colby liked

being around women—hell, they “took care of certain other
problems” like the damn one Griff himself had had in the shower.
Colby was probably doing the chick from earlier. Maybe that’s why
she’d given Griff the dirty look. She’d seen straight through him too.
And now Colby had very politely let him know exactly where his
interests lay. At least he hadn’t been an ass about it.

“Point taken.”
“So what about you? Where’d you disappear to after

graduation?” Colby traded the water for his beer, taking a long, slow
swallow.

Yep, sports were safe enough. “After the injury sidelined me, I

spent a couple years as a scout. Then I figured I should put my
business degree to some use and became an agent. It helps me feel
like I’m still part of the game and makes me a good living. I still miss
playing though, so it’s nice to be back and be remembered as the guy
on the field rather than the guy on the sidelines.”

“Funny. I don’t know if I could even imagine you being on the

sidelines of anything.”

“Then I’ll send you a list of all televised events to avoid

watching.” Griff laughed, raised his choko, and tipped it toward
Colby. “To renewed friendships and being in the right place.”

It really looked like Griff had checked out Toby’s ass as the

waiter sauntered away. Now that they were eating though, he was all

sports all the time. Colby set down his chopsticks before he ended up
skewering his sushi in frustration.

After draining his beer, he forced a smile onto his face. This

was so very much not going the way he’d expected. Oh, who was he
kidding—the way he wanted.

“So what are your plans for the rest of the week?” And why

the fuck did those words come out of his mouth? Putting himself
through this more than once, well twice, was beyond stupid. He
needed to focus on work and forget Jacob Griffin was even in town.
Shit, maybe he would go away this weekend. Ditch Homecoming
entirely.

“Not really sure, but if you wanted to run again or whatever...”

Griff’s voice trailed off.

And when Colby looked again, he was surprised to find a

flush rising in Griff’s cheeks. What. The. Fuck? He was blushing?
Why was he blushing if...

“Colby! I didn’t expect to see you here!”
He ground his teeth together, wishing fate didn’t hate him so

much.

The girl’s timing was impeccable. Impeccably bad.
He twisted around and watched as Desirée shooed her guy of

the night toward a table. The kid wasn’t her normal idiot-jock type.
This one looked fit enough, but he also carried himself like he might
have a brain. As happy as Colby was that she might have a new target
for her affections, he really didn’t want to deal with her again tonight.
“Rée, aren’t you supposed to be off studying? There’s that whole
eligibility issue we talked about...”

She waved a hand dismissively toward her table before trailing

her fingers from his shoulder down his arm. “I told you I’d take care
of it. That’s why I’m here. Please don’t tell me you think I’m on a
date, I’d never live down going out with him. He’s my tutor. I
suggested meeting somewhere else, but apparently Mr. Too-smart-
for-his-own-damn-good decided this place would be quieter. And then
here you are with your... friend.”

Colby wanted to turn around and gauge Griff’s reaction. The

guy was confusing the hell out of him—sending signals like mad and
then making all that energy dissipate like it never existed in the first
place. Shoving Desirée at him would make something happen, that’s
for sure. But he couldn’t bring himself to look. “Well, Rée, if you

want to keep playing, you better get your ass over there. All play and
no work means you lose your scholarship. No scholarship kills all
those dreams of a pro career.”

“True,” she said, her fingers on his shoulder again, this time

moving toward his neck as she leaned down and put her cleavage on
full display for Griff. “But all work and no play makes the scholarship
hardly worth the bother. Maybe I should just go pro now.”

He reached up and plucked her hand from the collar of his

shirt, dropping it as soon as it was away from his skin. “Great plan.
You get right to work on that. Enjoy your sushi, Rée.”

For the life of him, Colby couldn’t grasp how she could

manage to seem unruffled by him calling her out for her academic
failings. But she simply flashed a dazzling white smile and said, “You
enjoy yours too. Or, since you’re almost done eating, I suppose you
could just enjoy each other’s company. Then again, that might mean
taking someone home.”

Heat rising in his face, Colby prayed he wasn’t turning

crimson. He and Griff would end up matching before the night was
over. And that was too gay a thought, even for him. “I’m sorry,
Desirée is a piece of work sometimes.”

Griff laughed and shook his head. “She’s definitely a piece of

something, that’s for sure. Or at least she wants every guy in a fifty
yard radius to know exactly who her particular piece of ass belongs
to.”

He thought... Colby sucked in a breath and almost choked on

it. “No. Oh fuck no. Rée has tried to stake a claim since she got on
campus, but that will never happen.”

“Pretty sure she thinks otherwise, my friend. But, if you want,

we can take off. No point in sitting here with her staring at you.” He
took another sip of his sake.

“She’s staring?” This shit had gone on for too long, and she’d

started pushing harder ever since the incident with Deanna. He needed
to have a long talk with Desirée. He started to twist in his seat, but
Griff grabbed his arm.

“Don’t. Staring might have been a bad choice of words. She

does keep looking though, and you’re obviously tense. We can either
call it a night or go get a drink somewhere else.”

Colby heard him, but was too focused on where they touched

to answer for a moment. Griff massaged his arm, his fingers kneading

the tension from the muscles. Damn it. Was he straight or not? Colby
hated himself for how very much he wanted the answer to be not.

There were exactly two local gay bars. The one Colby avoided

was a complete dive where men went looking for a quick and easy
hook-up—mostly the locals who wanted to get some before they went
home to their wives. The other was nice and respectable and a good
time, but he couldn’t bring himself to suggest it. He didn’t care about
Griff knowing he was gay, but the presumption in asking...

Crap. He knew he should just say he was tired and go home.

Especially with the way Griff was watching him, eyes dancing over
the rim of his choko. Damn it, he’d been staging his internal debate
too long. The back of his neck burned and he knew Rée was staring
now. It was hot enough to match the searing ache in his leg from that
damn scratch.

“Let’s hit the Bear’s Den.” The words were out of his mouth

before he had time to think about them. At least he’d played it safe
with his choice. The Bear’s Den was an institution around here—still
popular enough after all these years to stay afloat, but not as busy as
the newer bars.

Griff waved for the check. “Sounds like a plan. I haven’t been

in the Den since my twenty-first.”

And Colby hadn’t been since he discovered The Cub’s Cave,

but that was a step for another night—if they hung out again. And
only if he ever felt confident enough about Griff’s sexuality to broach
the possibility of a gay bar.

Walking through the bar with Colby was surreal. Ten years

ago, Griff was the one everyone knew. Now he got glances, but Colby
got the hellos and the whacks on the shoulder or back. All of it
casual—like every person he saw was a close and personal friend.

Which only meant he shouldn’t read anything into it.
As soon as they made it to the bar and placed their order, Griff

had to escape and collect his thoughts. Too bad the men’s room with
its grimy mirrors, chipped sinks, and graffiti-covered walls didn’t give
him anything in the way of answers. Colby completely came off as
straight as they came, but then he’d make some comment or get a
look in his eyes or...

Griff twisted on the tap and splashed water on his face. The

back and forth was killing him. He either needed to make a play for

Colby or back the hell away and forget about him. Icy needles pierced
his skin as he splashed his face once more. Blindly, he reached back
for paper towels, only to find them thrust into his hand and scraping
against the damn spot where he’d gotten the splinter earlier. He
winced as the pain came back fresh, heat racing up his arm.

“You looked like you could use some help.”
He blinked away water droplets to find the short guy from

Delta Chi scrubbing his hands at the next sink. “Yeah. Thanks. Chris,
right?”

“Yep.” Chris dried his hands and tossed the paper into the

trash. “I saw Colby outside, did you manage to meet up with him
earlier?”

The question seemed innocent enough but, with the way Griff

was feeling, he debated not answering. Except Chris had been the one
to nudge him toward Colby in the first place. Maybe he knew
something. “Yeah, I did. He’s pretty cagey though. What with the
change in appearance, I’m not even sure he’s the same guy from way
back when. Our conversations seem to keep tap dancing around
anything beyond public knowledge.”

Chris’s eyebrow shot up. “Colby Marsters’s life pretty much is

public knowledge. If you aren’t getting the answer to your
questions—”

“Who said I had questions?”
“—you could always Google him.” He shrugged. “Or not. No

skin off my behind either way. And now I have to see a clumsy
waitress about the thorough apology she promised for spilling a drink
on me. Have a great night.”

The weird little man was gone before Griff had time to

formulate a coherent thought. He pulled out his phone but realized
he’d been in the bathroom a while. Considering his earlier toilet
delay, he really didn’t want to start a trend. The Internet would still be
there when he wasn’t standing next to a urinal.

He punched Colby’s name into the search engine as he made

his way back toward the bar. A woman with dark blond hair tugged
on his jacket.

The first chick he’d seen with Colby at practice smiled up at

him—at least her smile seemed less sexually charged than Desirée’s.
“Hey there, Griff, right? Colby had to step out and take a call. He
made me promise to protect your drinks, but Pru here has been eyeing

yours for a couple minutes. You better sit down. I’m Deanna Beal, by
the way, assistant coach of the ladies’ soccer team, and the lovely
woman to your left is Prudence Saunders, one of the school’s
trainers.”

After shaking Deanna’s hand—if Colby was comfortable

leaving their drinks here, Griff could play nice—he slid onto the
bench opposite her and turned toward the other woman. The lean
muscles of her bare arms glowed a dark brown under the lights of the
dance floor. Short, choppy black hair stuck out at all angles, drawing
attention to one of the most beautiful faces he’d ever seen. Did Colby
surround himself with women like this?

Griff stuck his hand toward her, his Internet search forgotten

in the face of his present reality. “Prudence, huh? Did your parents
hate you?”

She threw her head back and laughed. “No. I think they just

saw the future and prayed my name would be a self-fulfilling
prophecy that would turn me from my wild and wicked ways.” She
cocked her head to the side. “So you’re the famous Jacob Griffin? I
thought you’d be more... god-like.”

“God-like?”
“Ow!” Prudence glared across the table. “Come on, Dee-Dee,

you were thinking it too.”

“I just played football. And we won the Rose Bowl. It’s not

like we cured cancer or something. A highlight of college for sure, but
not exactly life-altering.”

“Oh my God. You don’t know.” Prudence spun toward

Deanna. “Stop kicking me! How can he not know? How the hell can
you not know?”

“Shut up, Pru.” Deanna glared across the table, her eyes

begging for something, but Griff had no idea what.

“How can I not know what exactly?” Strobe lights on the

dance floor gave the illusion of slowing everything to a crawl even as
the music pulsed, and Griff started to think he didn’t know anything at
all.

Deanna glared across the table at Pru, the expression caught in

the flashes of light. “That my fiancée has a big mouth.”

Fiancée? Only then did he notice the matching sparkles on

their ring fingers. His gaze shot from one of them to the other.
Definite broken gaydar.

He tore his gaze away to watch as Colby strode back inside. A

guy too old to be a student grabbed him in a one-armed hug and said
something. Colby laughed, and then the guy kissed him on the cheek
before letting go.

Griff’s phone buzzed with a new text from his assistant.

Ramirez signed the contract with Pepsi. Decided he was willing to
give up his Coke habit for five million. LOL Coke habit. I kill myself.

As happy as Griff was about the deal—especially since it

meant a nice commission for him—he thumbed it off without
bothering to respond. And his screen returned to his earlier search on
Colby. He gaped at the top result. There, clear as it could be, was a
thumbnail picture of Colby looking fantastic in a suit and tie and
standing at a podium emblazoned with a six-color rainbow.

A gay pride symbol.
Colby was speaking at some sort of event.
All the worries, all the fears, rushed from Griffin on the wind

of a breath.

Prudence laughed again and tipped her glass toward him.

“And it looks like the dumb jock finally got a clue. Welcome to the
party.”

Colby knew before he sat down that something had happened

in the few minutes he’d been outside. Deanna’s wide eyes were
almost panicked, but they most definitely conveyed an I’m sorry
message. Only once he turned to slide into the booth next to her did
he catch sight of Pru’s smug grin and Griff’s mildly shell-shocked
expression.

A speedy mental calculation came up with only one possible

reason for the trio of face. Prudence had told Griff that Colby was
gay. That sort of thing had always proven as traumatic to Deanna as
coming out had been. But Colby had been wide open about his
sexuality since graduation, and he hadn’t exactly tried to hide it
during his last couple years at school.

Then again, the stunned silence from Griff kind of made him

wish it either had been a secret or that he’d been honest about it from
the very first today. No way was he sitting here all night with it
hanging like this over the table.

“Did I leave my freak flag out again? Pru likes to play with the

fucking thing. Make origami hearts with it and shit.” He tipped back

his long neck and took a deep swallow, hoping someone—anyone—
responded.

“Well that’s just because yours is so much prettier than mine.”

Prudence stirred her Jack and Coke, her eyes gleaming. “I’ve been
trying to steal it for years, but you always take it back.”

Griff’s voice barely carried over the music, but Colby had

been watching out of the corner of his eye and turned as soon as
Griff’s lips moved. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Shit. “If we aren’t back in a few, ladies, the drinks are on me.”

He nodded at Griff. “This isn’t a conversation for screaming over
music. Let’s go outside.”

He didn’t wait to see if Griff followed. To the strains of

AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long,” he made his way through
the press of bodies. The music thrummed in his veins, making him
tremble. The guy who’d featured far too often in wet dreams during
his single periods was not only here—that had been hard enough—but
now they needed to deal with the void that had stood between them all
these years. A void bigger than time or distance only because it had
been intentional.

At the door, Greg the bouncer frowned at him. “Going out

again, Coach? It’s getting crowded tonight. Make sure you’re back
soon or I’ll have to make you wait like everyone else.”

Apparently the Rose Bowl heroes’ arrival in town was

drawing all those old enough to drink to the bars early. Colby sucked
in a breath, nodded, and said in as low a tone as he thought would be
heard, “Just tell me, is there a big guy with dark hair who looks all
kinds of confused behind me?”

Greg snorted. “Oh yeah.”
“Well, hopefully you can get us both back in.”
Colby shoved open the door, and stepped from the warmth and

pounding music onto the chill of the sidewalk. As soon as Griff’s
footsteps sounded behind him, he started to talk, hating himself for
the half-truths he spewed. “I’ve been out for a long time. I assumed
you knew.”

“No.” Griff pulled Colby to a stop under a streetlamp. “We’re

not having this conversation where I can’t see you. When did you
know?”

What kind of question was that? Of everything he could have

asked? “I’ve known I was gay since I was a kid. When other guys

started noticing girls, really noticing them, I didn’t. When they started
talking about sex and kissing and love—I never saw girls in my head.
I’ve known pretty much forever. I just hid it for a long time.”

Griff raked a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the

gesture and every line that hurt had drawn on his face. “That’s not
what I... Did you know that day at Delta Chi? When we kissed?”

Colby’s heart sank. A lie sprang to his mouth, one that would

ease the pain so clearly displayed in front of him, but it tasted sour on
his tongue. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t tell Griff that he’d only been
going along with the game because he had to, that it hadn’t meant
anything, that he hadn’t wanted to do it. “Of course I knew when I
kissed you. There isn’t a valve I can just shut off so I get to stop being
gay because—”

“No. Damn it, did you know that I was kind of into guys too?”

By the time he spit the words out, Griff’s chest, those gorgeous
pectorals, was heaving for breath. His eyes pleaded, but Colby didn’t
know what answer would soothe the pain inside him.

He never would have done it had Griff not just said those

words, but Colby ran his hand up Griff’s arm, over his neck to cup his
chin. “First, you either are or you aren’t. Kind of isn’t going to cut it. I
don’t give a shit if you admit it to the rest of the world, but you need
to be honest with yourself.”

A breath shuddered out, ghosting over Colby’s wrist. “I am.

It’s complicated, but I am.”

“Okay, we can work with that.” It didn’t seem like it should be

complicated to Colby, but if Griff was just now coming out, he’d give
the guy a little slack. “As for that day? No. I had no idea. Hell, until
about thirty seconds ago I’d only had fleeting hopes. The kind that
came and then flew right out the window.”

Griff licked his lips and pressed them together, but he didn’t

look quite as scared any more. “Did you leave Delta Chi because of
that kiss? Because of me?”

Yes. No. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking. I left

because I was still in the closet then. I thought you were straight and
had figured out my secret.”

“And you figured I’d tell everyone that I thought you were

gay?” Griff jerked away from his grasp. “Did you really think that
little of me? I wasn’t an asshole.”

Even the traffic noises seemed to disappear as the world faded

around them. Only Colby and Griff. Only this moment. The one
where his last secret came out into the open. “Not that I was gay. That
I was gay and wanted you. I could have faked a bullshit kiss with
anyone else, but not with you. With you I knew I had one chance, and
I wasn’t going to let it slip through my fingers. But after it happened,
I couldn’t stay because instead of making me want you less, I wanted
you more. So I left.”

“So you kissed me, made me want you, made yourself

impossible to forget, and then you walked away.” Griff’s jaw was
clenched so hard Colby wondered that his teeth weren’t shattering.

But he wasn’t about to back down. Griff had a right to be

angry, but Colby wasn’t going to simper. He wasn’t a scared kid
anymore, and he sure as hell wouldn’t act like one. If Griff expected
some submissive little gay man who would cower before him, it
would never work. In a step, he closed the distance between them,
their mouths only inches apart, close enough to kiss again.

“I left because neither of us were honest then. I didn’t hide

anything from you this time. I’m out and proud, Griff. If you can’t get
past your anger to see that, then walk away, I’ll even call you a cab to
take you the mile back to your car. You never have to see me again.
But if you really spent all these years thinking about me as often as I
thought about you, then you’ll follow me back inside the Bear’s Den
and figure out where we go from here.”

Just like when he led the way out of the bar, Colby didn’t wait

for a response. He marched back to the door and shoved his way
inside. The only difference was this time he was a lot less confident
Griff would follow.

Risk

Griff couldn’t move. A light rain started to fall, drizzle coating

his jacket and hair, slicking his skin. Colby had thought about him.
Colby had wanted him. If he’d never left the frat, how different would
things be now?

He sure as hell wouldn’t be standing out in the rain wondering

what to do. But now that Colby had thrown out the opening, he didn’t
know if he could take it. He wanted to, wanted it more than anything,
but maybe it didn’t happen back in college because it wasn’t supposed
to. Maybe Griff’s destiny was to get married to some chick and raise
their two-point-five kids in a house with a picket fence.

“You’re really taking the dumb jock thing to a whole new

level aren’t you?”

The voice shattered Griff’s musings, and he twisted to the

right to find Chris standing beside him again, a bright red umbrella
over his shoulder. No matter what else, Griff knew damn well he
hadn’t said what he’d been thinking. “What?”

“It’s raining, shithead. Why are you standing around without

an umbrella or anything? Here.” He thrust the gold handle of the
umbrella into Griff’s hand. “Take mine. My car’s just around the
corner. If you’re going to stay out here, you need this more than I do.”

Griff stared at the umbrella shaft; the light overhead shone

through the crimson fabric, painting vague heart shapes on the gold.
He wasn’t an idiot for standing in the rain. He was an idiot for not
following his heart to begin with. Just a few moments ago and back
when Colby first kissed him. He should have chased after Colby every
time he walked away.

Not this time. Griff wasn’t going to screw it up again. Shoving

the umbrella back at the bald guy who’d set this whole thing in
motion, Griff smiled. “Actually, I’m going back inside. Unfinished
business.”

Chris’s dark eyes twinkled. “Glad to hear it. I’m rather fond of

this umbrella after all. Have a great night.”

A quick wave and Griff was back at the door, only to find a

queue of people huddled under the canopy. The bouncer held up a
hand. “Sorry, man. Line’s back there.”

“I...” Griff needed to get inside. If he didn’t, Colby would

think he’d left.

Chris brushed by, bumping the bouncer with his umbrella, the

neon lights making the thing glow like it was on fire. “Have a heart,
Greg. The guy is drenched and his stuff’s already inside.”

Griff doubted it would matter, but he shivered for good

measure. Something in the bouncer’s posture changed, and the guy
edged closer to the blonde standing at the front of the line to get in.
“If I hang out here and talk to you, can this guy have your spot?”

“Do I get to see the tattoo you keep teasing all of us with?”
Greg the bouncer leaned in close to the blonde. “All you ever

had to do was ask.”

A trio of people exited the bar, and Chris shoved Griff toward

the door. “Better not miss the opportunity while it’s available.”

The door swung shut before he managed to say thank you,

even though he wasn’t really sure what had happened outside. He
spun around, searching the crowd for Colby. There, at the bar, being
accosted by a guy who apparently thought he was a rock star by the
amount of guy-liner he wore.

Hell no.
Griff worked his way amidst the throngs of people, using his

size to plow through, and his elbows when his size wasn’t enough. In
seconds, he reached the bar.

Guy-liner leaned in toward Colby. “Come on, Coach. I’m the

perfect balm for your tortured soul. Whatever he did to you, I can
undo...”

“I don’t think so. Coach Marsters is otherwise engaged for the

evening,” Griff said, nodding toward guy-liner. Colby smiled at Griff,
the expression sending a shiver of promise down his spine. As soon as
guy-liner took the hint and left, Griff moved into his spot.

“You didn’t have to brush him off quite so hard. He’s still

coming into his own.” Colby took a swig from a fresh bottle of beer.

“He can come into his own with someone else.”
“Want me to order you something?”
Griff looked around at the bar, home to so many memories

from his days here, but he really didn’t want it to the home of this
one. “No. I kind of want to get out of here, but I want to get out of
here with you.”

Time seemed to stretch while Colby eyed him. Conversations

didn’t slow, music didn’t stop, but the moment felt like it lasted for an

eternity. Had he waited outside too long? Was Colby re-thinking the
whole thing?

“I wish to hell you’d gotten in here to say that before I ordered

another beer.” Colby tipped the bottle back, chugging half of it, then
dropped his keys into Griff’s hand. “You’re driving.”

“You have someplace in mind?”
After draining the last of the bottle, Colby waved toward the

door. “Two choices from what I can see: your place or mine. Mine
seems a little more discreet if that matters to you.”

And a lot more personal than a random mid-range hotel room.

“You’ll have to give me directions.”

Colby chuckled, the sound deep and throaty. It sent another

shiver through Griff. “Believe me, I plan to give you plenty of
directions.”

Colby was nowhere close to being too drunk to drive, but he

wanted to watch Griff rather than the road. The stiff set of his
shoulders broadcasted his nervousness. But the way he kept biting his
lip wasn’t nerves; he was holding back laughter.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re staring?”
Shrugging, Colby didn’t bother to look away. “I don’t suppose

because I’m trying to memorize the moment will cut it.”

The laugh broke loose, the sound joyous and carefree—so at

odds with his posture. “If I thought for a minute you meant it maybe.”

“I do mean it. I want to store this forever. But—” Griff snorted

before Colby could finish. “—I’m also trying to get a read on you.
You said being gay was complicated for you. I don’t really know
what exactly you meant by that.”

The stiffness moved north from his shoulders to settle into a

hard line along his jaw. “Does it matter?”

Colby needed to tread carefully. He reached out and rubbed

Griff’s shoulder. “Maybe yes. Maybe no. But I think it’s important
that we have all our cards on the table. Don’t you?”

“You showed me yours, so now I need to show you mine?”

His muscles hadn’t relaxed much, but the half-smile spoke volumes.

“Turn right onto the next street. And yeah, something like that.

I’m just a believer in full-disclosure. For instance, I don’t really do
one-night stands. I’m a relationship kind of guy. So if we’re going to
have sex, for me, it’s going to mean something. You have a right to

know that. The gray ranch on the left with the light on and the parade
of gourds leading up to the porch.”

Colby’s place wasn’t huge, but he kept it up, hiring a gardener

only when things got really crazy and when he traveled for camps
during the summer. He couldn’t help but wonder what Griff was
thinking as the quiet dragged on through them parking and the garage
door lowering behind them.

Griff handed him the keys but put both hands back on the

wheel, everything about him tense now. “My entire life is a string of
one-night stands and short relationships. As far as complicated...” He
let out a shuddering breath. “I grew up in a really religious family in a
little farm town where there was no such thing as privacy. The only
things everyone didn’t know were the thoughts that just lived in your
head. I was always expected to carry on the family name, provide my
folks with grandkids, all of that.”

Colby didn’t say anything. The lines of pain on Griff’s face

told him this needed to all come out, every last bit of it, before they
could move forward.

After another deep breath, Griff continued, “The thing is I like

women fine. Sex with them is a good time, but I’ve never connected
with a woman on a deeper level than that. Hell, the first time I ever
felt a connection with anyone was the day you and I kissed. I’ve been
searching for that feeling ever since. I thought I came close with a
couple guys, but something was never quite right. They said I wasn’t
man enough for them. I still don’t even know what that means, maybe
just that I wasn’t willing to jump out of the closet for them. But, with
what you want and my history...”

Now Colby snorted. “Don’t even say it. You’re scared.” He

turned Griff’s chin until their gazes met. “Your past gives you every
right to be scared, but I want to see where this goes. If you’re only
willing to let me have tonight, then so be it, but I’m not going to lose
you because we’re afraid of what might happen again. We’ve waited
too damn long to get to this point.”

Griff’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. “What happened

to the shy, skinny kid I used to know?”

“He never really existed. He was just the smokescreen I hid

behind until I stopped being afraid of what the rest of the world
thought of me. That was when I became strong enough to look at a

guy like you and tell you to get your ass inside the house because
sitting out here is ridiculous.”

“Am I supposed to say ‘Yes, Coach’ at this point?” The smile

broke free, lighting up his face in the near darkness of the garage.

“You better fucking not. But I’m going inside.” Colby shoved

open the passenger door and stepped out, letting the darkness envelop
him as he moved forward. The garage door opener light had already
faded, only the glow of the dome light in the car remained. This was
the real challenge.

If Griff was as nervous as he seemed, it was going to be hard

for him to step from the security of the car into the waiting darkness,
even though he knew full well there was light just beyond another
door. Colby wouldn’t open it yet, even though his fingers skimmed
the knob. As stupid as the symbolism was, he needed Griff to take
that step, because he’d lied.

He wanted Griff, no doubt about it, but he wanted a chance for

it to be something real, something more than a one-night stand. And
that would never happen if Griff wouldn’t take at least a tiny leap of
faith.

Quiet stretched, and it felt like forever before the driver’s door

creaked open and then slammed shut. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why haven’t
you gone in yet?”

“Because I needed you to get out of the car first.” It made a lot

more sense in his head than it did out loud, but he knew he couldn’t
explain the reasons to Griff, not like this.

“Okay, I’m out, now can you open the house so I don’t trip on

your rake trying to make my way around the car?”

Yeah. The plan sounded a lot stupider aloud. He twisted the

knob, flicked on a light, and held open the door until Griff brushed by
him. “For a minute there, I thought you’d had a change of heart.”

“Nope. Just waiting on you.” Colby smirked, knowing he

hadn’t changed his mind about wanting Jacob Griffin in a dozen
years.

Twister

Griff followed Colby through the kitchen with its hardwood

floors and oak cabinets, iron knobs and fixtures giving the room a
masculine air. He trailed his fingers on the granite counters.
Everything gleamed like it had never been used.

Colby stopped suddenly. “I almost forgot to be a decent host.

Did you want a drink?”

“Depends. Do I need to drive myself back to the hotel?” As

soon as the words were out of his mouth, Griff wanted to kick
himself. There were only a couple ways a comment like that could be
taken—one rude and the other presumptuous.

“Let’s go with no.” Colby favored him with a crooked smile

that made Griff want nothing more than to kiss him again.

“Then I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Colby snorted and moved from the fridge to the other side of

the island in the middle of the room. “Like hell. You haven’t had a
beer all night. Red or white?”

Griff rounded the counter just in time to see him swing open

the door to a wine cooler built into the island. “Based on the fact that
you have that thing, I’m guessing you don’t want to risk me spilling
red somewhere else in the house. And I do drink beer just not all the
time.”

With a shrug, Colby shut the wine cooler. “Have it your way.”
When he pulled a pair of bottles from the fridge, Griff took his

and said, “You know, I was almost expecting you to have a tap
somewhere.”

“I do. It’s in the basement.” Only when Griff started to sputter,

almost spraying beer across the kitchen, did Colby laugh. “I’m
kidding. I don’t drink this much all the time. A tap would go to waste.
The wine fridge is from the previous owners. I just keep it stocked for
when I have people over.” He tipped his bottle toward an archway.
“Shall we?”

The living room was as immaculate as the kitchen but

different, richer. Deep crimson walls framed the room with its dark
brown leather. A giant flat screen hung on one wall, the narrow table
beneath it held family photos and a half-dead plant. The one thing not
picture perfect. Colby settled onto one end of the couch leaving the
choice up to Griff of whether or not to join him there.

This was ridiculous. He felt like this was his first date ever,

not just the newest. He sank into the leather next to Colby and
scrubbed at his face, laughing.

“What?”
Griff quirked his lips to the side. “Truth is I’m really not sure

how to do this.” Colby just took a swig of his beer, watching him. The
steady gaze unnerved him so badly he backed off from what he had
intended to say. “Usually when I go back to someone’s place it’s for a
specific reason.”

“You mean sex. Is that what you want, Griff? Skip the

pleasantries and just get it on?” Colby’s voice was gruff, the sound
rubbing against his senses in a way that made coherent thought a lot
harder than it had been even a moment earlier.

“No. I mean, I’m not saying I don’t want sex. Hell. I don’t

know.” He tipped back his own beer, wondering why he had slipped
into awkward teenager mode and hoping there was an answer
somewhere inside the bottle.

“It’s like that fucking frat house all over again, isn’t it?” Colby

set his bottle on the table behind the sofa. “Difference is no one’s
forcing us this time. We’re here because we want to be. If we’re not,
there’s no point in any of this.”

“Of course I want to be here. I told you that.” But even Griff

could hear the doubt, the hesitation, in his voice.

Colby took the bottle from his fingers and placed it on the

table too. “Your family? Those other people you’re worried about?
They aren’t in this room. It’s just you and me. Look at me, Griff.”
The moment their eyes met, Colby continued, in a voice full of
command, “What do you want?”

“I want to kiss you.” He hadn’t even needed to think about it.

It was the thing he’d yearned for since that first kiss during a stupid
hazing game. The thing he’d dreamed about over and over again.

“Then kiss me.”
Griff leaned in, and Colby just waited as if insisting he take

this first step. The thought made him falter, but only for a second.
Then he crushed his mouth against Colby’s. Hands on his chest urged
him back a bit, and then the familiar tingle of longing made him
desperate for more than just a press of lips. He flicked his tongue
against Colby’s mouth—just a taste...

Then Colby opened to him, and once more he forgot how to

breathe.

Colby held back until he was sure Griff had made up his mind

about the kiss. Which took precisely until the moment their tongues
grazed each other. Never one to be timid, Colby cupped the back of
Griff’s neck and took control of the kiss, driving it deeper, hungry for
more.

Griff might not be forbidden fruit anymore, but he was still the

most sinful, delicious thing Colby had ever tasted.

As soon as Colby took over, Griff’s tiny trembles ceased and

his muscles relaxed under the attention. His fingers continued to
knead Griff’s neck as his tongue probed and caressed.

The stupid scratch on Colby’s leg tingled and burned, and his

damn cock sprang to life again. There was no holding it back this
time. This was Griff—the guy he’d never forgotten after a single
kiss—in his house, in his arms, kissing again and willing to do more.
But if Colby didn’t slow down, he’d end up making it look like sex
was all he wanted.

Then, just as Colby started to pull away, Griff reached down

and rubbed at his erection. Desperate to hold onto his control, Colby
drew back with a low moan. “I’m trying to behave myself here, but if
you keep that up, it’ll be fucking near impossible.”

Eyes hooded, voice raspy, Griff rubbed him again. “Uh-uh,

not this time. I don’t want you to behave. Hell, I don’t want to
behave. I just want you. Please.”

The please undid him down to the last thread of control. He

had enough left to not take Griff right there in the living room.
Standing, he pulled Griff to him, their bodies tight together for
another, briefer, kiss. When they parted, Colby shook his head. “Not
in here.”

Tugging on Griff’s hand, he led the way down the hall and

into the master bedroom. The switch turned on the bedside lamps,
setting the room aglow in just enough light to see by. The sage green
duvet was already folded back neatly, revealing sand hued sheets on
the black canopy bed.

He turned and backed Griff against the wall. Stretching of that

tiny thread of control to its breaking point, he started undoing the
buttons of Griff’s crisp blue shirt. His fingers trembled and he wanted

to give into temptation and rip the damn clothes off. “This is what you
want, right? You want me to take you?”

Shirt undone, that gorgeous chest exposed, Colby dipped his

head and trailed kisses from Griff’s chin, down his neck and lower
before biting at one tight, dark nipple. Griff hissed in a breath. “Yes.”

Colby wanted to believe him, but Griff had started shaking

again—the movements barely perceptible. So much so, he wouldn’t
have even noticed if not for the lips to skin contact. “What is it?”

“I uh...” Griff ducked his head, adorably shy for a moment.

“I’ve uh... always played quarterback in this game.”

Which explained so very much. Colby grabbed his chin and

kissed him fiercely, plundering his mouth, claiming it. “That could be
the problem then. You never could throw worth a damn. Maybe it’s
time for you to see if you’re better at playing receiver.”

Swallowing hard, Griff nodded. “Maybe.”
The answer sent a shiver of longing straight through Colby,

making everything feel too tight, too confining. Sick of the constraints
of the fabric, he tore his own shirt over his head. In seconds, he’d
yanked Griff’s belt free and shoved down his pants, freeing his cock.
He slid his hand over the shaft as Griff fumbled with Colby’s jeans,
struggling to push them down the length of his thighs.

As soon as Colby could, he stepped out of the denim and

closed the distance between them to take Griff’s mouth again. Their
dicks rubbed against each other, their tongues matching the motion,
and each stroke only served to make him harder. He wanted Griff so
bad his hands shook as they skated over Griff’s body—hair,
shoulders, arms, ass, back, ass again.

Shivering with need, Colby twisted Griff away from the wall,

urging him backward until his legs hit the side of the bed. A little
push against his chest, and the wall of muscles and manhood tumbled
onto Colby’s bed. For a moment, he stood there, just staring at the
display—the lines of his muscles, veins carving paths just beneath his
skin, the edge of his jaw, rough with stubble. Colby wanted to savor
every inch of him, but at the moment it was the eight or nine thick
inches standing at attention that called to him.

Before they did anything else, he wanted a taste of that

glorious piece of flesh. Kneeling, he jerked Griff toward the edge of
the mattress and sucked just the head into his mouth.

“Christ...”

It was all the encouragement Colby needed. He had every

intention of making tonight unforgettable for Griff. Running his
tongue from the base to the tip, he slicked Griff with his saliva,
savoring every groan and twitch. As his own body responded in kind,
he worked Griff’s cock in long slow strokes while licking his balls.
Gently, Colby sucked the sensitive flesh into his mouth.

Only when Griff’s hands tangled in his hair did he move up

once more to take the full length. Licking. Sucking. Tasting every bit
of him as Griff’s thighs quivered. He slowed, taking Griff deeper,
until his throat constricted around the head and Griff moaned once
more.

With regret, Colby stood up and flicked his tongue against the

tip of Griff’s cock one more time. “Sorry, I’m not finishing you that
way.” He leaned over the bed, making this kiss the barest brushing of
lips. “Get up and turn around.”

Griff pushed up from the bed, a shy smile crossing his face.

“Not quite yet.”

Then Griff slid to his knees, and took Colby’s throbbing dick

into his mouth. A finger probed at Colby’s ass, sliding in and
massaging until he grasped Griff’s head, trying to pull away, sure he
wouldn’t last. But Griff’s mouth gentled in response, and the heat in
his eyes as he looked up at Colby touched someplace even deeper
inside. And Colby knew, with certainty, that this was what he wanted,
not someone who would do exactly what he said.

No, Griff didn’t care what Colby told him to do, instead giving

him exactly what he needed.

The lamps played on the sand-colored sheets, making them

almost shimmer as Griff slid onto the bed once more. He trembled
with anticipation and a bit of nerves as he watched Colby slick
himself with extra lube over the condom. The soccer coach wasn’t a
slouch in the length department, but that girth...

Griff’s ass tightened just imagining that thick cock inside him.

He’d always been with guys who wanted him to top them. The only
one he’d managed to get to agree to let him be a bottom had been
fairly small. This... was something else entirely.

“Are you okay?” Colby’s fingers slipped over his ass, dipping

inside with a bit of lube, and Griff clenched around him. Eyebrow
arched, Colby said, “We can wait if you’re not ready.”

“Dear God, no. We’ve been waiting twelve years. That’s more

than long enough.” One glance at Colby’s glistening cock had him
shivering again. “Just... be careful with that thing.”

Colby crawled onto the bed and kissed him, tongue tracing the

inside of his mouth until tremors raced through his body. “I’m always
careful. Lie on your back.”

Rolling over, Griff focused on Colby’s face, on the way the

hard lines softened as he looked down, and relaxed, propping his legs
on Colby’s shoulders. When the head of Colby’s dick pushed into
him, he let out a short gasp but unclenched his muscles. He wanted to
feel every inch, and slowly Colby slid deeper inside.

Colby’s cock pressed and rubbed at his prostate, massaging as

he moved in and out. Between that and the throbbing in his own dick,
Griff couldn’t focus anymore, could barely think at all, his entire body
had turned to a giant mass of sensation. Oh God. Is this what it’s
supposed to feel like?

Pressure built in his cock until he had to stroke himself just to

be able to feel everything else. The way Colby’s hips slapped against
his ass. How his hands felt pressed against Griff’s chest. The emotion
dancing in the depths of the hazel eyes staring down at him. Griff
blinked, meeting his gaze, feeling that connection again only a
thousand times stronger. Too much. It was too much and too real, and
he would never get enough of this.

Griff’s breath came in short gasps and moans at the mix

between pain and pleasure. No matter what he wanted, he knew he
wasn’t going to last long. The need to come made his dick swell in his
grip. “Christ, Colby. I’m not going to make it.”

The only response was the flexing of Colby’s fingers against

his chest and the quickening of his thrusts. His hips pistoned,
slamming against Griff’s ass and driving that glorious dick against his
most sensitive spot over and over again until he wanted to scream.

In Griff’s grip, his cock jerked, and he squeezed slowly up the

length as warmth spurted over his hand and onto his belly. Something
about the sight of his orgasm must have spurred Colby on because his
body stiffened a minute later, thrusting deep and slow a couple more
before he shuddered, clearly spent.

Sweat glistened on his forehead as Colby drew his length out.

Then he leaned down and licked a bit of the semen from Griff’s
abdomen. Without warning, he knelt on the bed and their mouths met

in a dance of tongues and lips and heat. Griff had never tasted
anything like the salty-sweetness of his own cum in Colby’s mouth.

“I’ll be right back.” Lips curved in a quiet smile, Colby moved

to the bathroom, leaving Griff alone on the bed.

All these years, he’d been right. There had never been a

connection like the one he shared with Colby. Tonight and the look in
Colby’s eyes had proven that. All his years wandering, trying to
figure out where he fit in the world, and it had been right in front of
him all along.

No more searching. Right here in this big, black canopy bed

was exactly where he belonged and where he intended to stay. It
wasn’t long after cleaning up that he and Colby faded off to sleep in a
tangle of arms, legs, and whispered promises of tomorrow.

Perfection

Sunlight eked through the blinds, casting the bed in stripes of

light and darkness. Griff untangled himself from Colby enough to
prop up on one elbow. Staying over never happened this quickly for
him. Hell, it hardly ever happened at all. Sleeping together was for
relationships.

But he didn’t want to leave, and the idea of sneaking out

appalled him—even if he’d had a means of a quick get-away. This
wasn’t just some guy; it was Colby. Even with the tattoos and all the
years lining his face, nothing had changed, at least not for him.

Griff studied Colby. In sleep, all the severity left his face and

he looked more like the guy who had haunted Griff all this time.
Sweet. Young. Innocent. But scanning lower displayed hours and
hours of artwork inked into his skin. Griff resisted the urge to touch
them, not wanting to wake Colby. Unlike so many sleeves, these
weren’t one large piece of art but several smaller ones woven into
each other seamlessly. It was nearly impossible to tell where one
image ended and the next began.

As Colby shifted, the light played along his ink but not

smoothly, almost as if it tripped over a patch of skin. Griff tilted his
head, trying to get a closer look. It took several minutes before he
recognized what he was seeing. Hidden beneath the artwork, hidden
so well as to pass anything but an up close and lengthy examination,
were so many scars Griff had trouble keeping count. His fingers
hovered over one particularly nasty looking injury lurking beneath the
scythe of the grim reaper.

“High school. Freshman year. Captain of the soccer team

thought he could cut the gay out of me. Parents moved me to another
school. Life went on,” Colby muttered, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Jesus.” Griff’s chest tightened. “And the rest?”
Colby gave a half-hearted shrug before tearing the tattoos and

scars from view as he stretched. “Some were from my own stupidity
as a kid. Some were from bar fights—also my own stupidity. And a
few were from people like the one freshman year.” He propped up on
his elbow and swept Griff’s hair back. “If you’re thinking I got the
ink to try and forget, I didn’t. All that shit in the past made me who I

am today, but I’m not the guy who likes to find pity in people’s eyes
when they see scars.”

“And what exactly do you want them to see?”
“Just me. And as hard as it might be to believe, all of this—”

he waved at his body and the artwork covering it, “—is me. Each
piece has meaning, even if it isn’t clear to anyone else.”

“How long would it take me to find out the stories for all of

them?” Griff trailed his fingertips along the edge of the scythe. So
many tattoos. So many tales to tell.

“Depends. How long do you plan on sticking around?” Colby

pulled him in for a searing kiss before climbing off the bed. He
sauntered toward the bathroom, his tight ass begging to be followed.

But Griff stayed wrapped in the sheets and just watched him

go. Colby had thrown out the one question he didn’t know how to
respond to, and it’d been done it so casually, like the answer didn’t
matter. Griff knew better though; he had to figure out what to say
before he had any right to move. And if it was the wrong answer, he
didn’t have any right to see Colby again—ever.

That possibility stabbed at something inside him. Could he

really give up their connection again? Could he give up last night? Or
even just what he felt being around Colby? Through all the panic and
nerves, he hadn’t felt so alive in years. This was precisely what he’d
been searching for in all the failed relationships and one night stands.

All along, he’d been looking for Colby. He knew it then, and

he was even more sure now.

Leaving the remnants of his old life to disintegrate and drift

away with the motes of dust sparking in the sunlight, he threw off the
sheets and strode to the bathroom. Steam already rose behind the
glass door, obscuring the black tiles and making them look gray and
ghostly. He stood there for a full minute, working up his courage
before saying, “As long as you want me to.”

“What?” Colby called from inside the shower. Griff repeated

himself, a bit louder, and this time the door opened and Colby’s head
popped out. “Sorry, I still didn’t hear you.”

The way the water dripped from Colby’s hair to trace the lines

of his face gripped Griff’s heart and held on tight, giving his voice
strength. “I said I’m staying as long as you want me to.”

A wicked smile crossed Colby’s face and he held open the

door to the shower. “Took you long enough to decide. Now get that
sweet ass of yours in here before we run out of hot water.”

Griff banging through the kitchen cabinets pulled Colby away

from his email. Somehow Griff had managed to find ingredients to
make pancakes and bacon for breakfast, only to start ranting when he
discovered that there was no syrup. Colby laughed when the
reprimand came for having a fully stocked bar but a nearly empty
pantry. “If you’re staying, we’ll go shopping today after practice.
Deal?”

“How can you stay in shape eating out all the damn time?”

Griff scowled at the platter of flapjacks.

Still smirking, Colby snatched up a piece of bacon and

munched on it as he searched through cupboards. He yanked out jars
of peanut butter and hazelnut spread, jerking his head toward the
pancakes. “How can you stay in shape eating all those carbs?”

“Normally I don’t, but you don’t have enough food in this

house to feed two people breakfast.” He made a sandwich with the
spreads, pancakes, and bacon. Chewing thoughtfully on his first bite,
he shrugged. “Not bad. But is that a promise about shopping for
food?”

“If you’re staying here, yes.” He let the question sink in.

Assuming Griff wanted to ditch the hotel would be going too far, but
he wasn’t beyond bribery. And obviously the way to Griff’s heart was
through his stomach.

Griff met his gaze, chewing slowly before licking his lips. “If

you’re offering, I’ll check out of the hotel this morning.”

Had someone asked Colby yesterday how he envisioned the

next twenty-four hours going, he never could have imagined this.
Deanna was going to have a field day with the fact that he had Griff
moving in already, and he didn’t even care. “Sounds good. Now
finish your breakfast so I can drop you off at your car before I head in
to work.”

“You’re kidding.” Deanna lobbed balls onto the indoor field,

prepping for the drill they’d run as soon as the girls finished their

warm-up jog around the track. “I mean I know you guys left together,
but... isn’t that a little quick?”

Colby shrugged, grinning at the image of other things that had

happened quickly—like their time in the shower that morning.
“Maybe, but he has to go back to Chicago on Sunday. I don’t want to
waste any time.”

She twisted a finger in her hair, staring at the girls as they ran

rather than looking at him. Those two things combined meant one
thing: she was about to tell him something she knew he wouldn’t
want to hear. “You do get that, right? That he’s leaving on Sunday?
Going back to his life in the big city?”

“And I might never see him after that. Yeah. I get it.” Didn’t

mean he liked it. They had twelve years to make up for and catch up
on and only a few days to do it. He could hardly expect more from
Griff than this week though, the guy had a life somewhere else: a job,
a home, friends, his family. Colby wanted more than the week, but he
didn’t expect it. Maybe if this worked out, they could try something
long distance.

Something neither of them would be satisfied with for long.
“Fuck.”
“No,” Deanna said, checking the clock, “the fucking is what

got you into this happily-ever-after head space to start with, Coach
Oblivious. I’m not saying don’t enjoy it. I’m not even saying don’t
fall for him. I just want you to dive into that particular pool with your
eyes wide open.” She blew a long note on her whistle, calling the girls
to the field.

“A swimming metaphor? What kind of soccer coach are you?”
“The kind that didn’t really want to pull some offense-defense

bullshit out of her ass. Just don’t go in blind, Colby. I don’t want to
see you get hurt by a guy who’s only in it looking for a fun week.”

She jogged onto the field, bellowing orders to the team and

splitting them into groups. It left Colby standing on the sidelines
alone with his thoughts. Scrubbing at his face, he let Deanna handle
practice for a few minutes while he pulled himself together.

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He didn’t want

Griff to leave, didn’t want a long-distance relationship that would end
up either fading away to nothing or exploding so ferociously that it
left a void in their lives. More like his life. Love ’em and leave ’em
was what Griff did. He as much as said so last night.

Colby needed to get his head out of his ass. He had this week,

if that long, and then Griff would go home. Maybe they’d end up
chatting online every so often, but that would be the end of it. As
much as he wanted to see if there was something to them both
wanting each other for over a decade, he had to be realistic. Griff had
no real reason to pick up his life and give this a chance. And even if
Colby wanted to follow him back to Chicago, he’d have to wait out
the season and find another position there. But even that remote
possibility still hinged on Griff.

It’ll never happen. Just enjoy what you have for now. Then

enjoy the memories when it’s over.

He gave a sigh full of longing, opened his eyes, and yelled,

“The net! That’s your fucking goal. Not Rée’s body. Get it together
and start scoring. She’s not that good.”

For the next hour he lost himself in drills and corrections and

note taking. By the time they were done, most of the forwards had
mastered the new technique and, as a bonus, he’d discovered
Desirée’s weakness. Whether Deanna or Rée liked it, the two of them
would need to work closely over the next few days to correct and
cover the issue before other teams picked up on it.

He blew his whistle. “That’s it, ladies. Good work today.

Make sure you stretch well. Some of you used muscles in ways you
never have before.”

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, and Griff

whispered in his ear. “Is that what happened last night? We worked
out muscles I’d neglected all this time?”

So much for having control of things. At the reminder of sex,

his dick twitched, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Something like
that.”

Griff’s fingers started kneading his shoulders. “You know, in

my experience, sometimes the best thing to do in a case like that is
work them again. Especially if they aren’t super sore.”

A shiver of anticipation ran up his spine. Yeah, even with the

disappointed look Deanna gave him from her spot on the field, Colby
knew he couldn’t stop this from taking whatever fucking course it
wanted. Win or lose, he was strapping in for the rest of this crazy ride
life had in store for them.

Life

For a minute when he’d arrived at Colby’s practice, Griff got

the sense something had changed since they parted ways that
morning. But as soon as Colby relaxed in his arms, all the fears
disappeared. In all fairness, he’d fought his own doubts throughout
the day, wondering if checking out of the hotel in favor of Colby’s
house was the right plan.

No more doubts. No more questions. No more worries.
From the instant he’d walked back into the bar last night,

every moment with Colby had bordered on perfection. This was the
life he was meant to live. He wouldn’t even consider the possibility of
walking away. Sure, it would take work, and there might be a period
where it would be hard, but he’d waited too long to feel happiness
like this.

As Colby turned around, Griff’s arms drifted to his side and he

let himself get lost in the hazel eyes that trapped him in their gaze. “I
have to admit, I thought you might bail on me.”

“Never.” Even during Griff’s worst moment today, that had

never been an option. “I’ll admit, coming out to the guys from the
team isn’t high on my list of things I want to do, but I don’t want you
to be some dirty little secret. You mean more to me than that.”

Just saying the words, it was as if a weight fell from his

shoulders. Griff had no clue how he was going to deal with being
open about things in the grand scheme of his life, but it was true: he
wanted Colby to be with him, and not just hiding in the shadows. The
reality of it might come crashing down hard later, but for the moment,
it buoyed him up as if he was floating.

“Glad to hear it. Let me get things squared away here, and

we’ll go grab some dinner.” Colby pressed a finger to his lips when
he opened his mouth to argue. “And then we’ll go grocery shopping
so my restaurant habit doesn’t affect your digestion too much.”

Laughing, he nipped at Colby’s finger. “Good. Is there

anything I can do to help out around here?”

“I’m sure Deanna won’t argue against an extra pair of hands to

clean up. See you in a bit.” Colby closed the space between them, his
lips tasting of coffee and sugar—a high from a kiss.

Griff didn’t want to let him go, but more kisses awaited them

after work was done for the day. When they parted, Colby turned
away, leaving Griff a clear line of sight to a pair of eyes narrowed to
slits just wide enough to let the feral amber of Rée’s irises shine
through. Then she stalked off toward the locker rooms.

He shuddered and jogged onto the field where Deanna was

busy gathering soccer balls. She might not have glared, but her
expression wasn’t one he’d call friendly either.

“Is it just you and Rée, or do all the women within spitting

distance hate me suddenly?” He bobbled a ball before lobbing it
toward her and the cart.

Snatching it out of the air, she dropped the ball into the cart

where it ricocheted off the sides, making them clatter. “You’re
kidding, right?”

“Not really.”
She arched an eyebrow at him while scrunching up her tiny

nose. Then she snorted. “Oh, I get it, you're not just a gay jock, you're
a dumb gay jock. Way to really fuck with the stereotype. No, we
don’t all hate you. Hell, I don’t hate you. Thing is, I love Colby like a
brother. He’s closer to me than any of my blood relatives are. I was
great with the two of you until I found out about your relationship
track record.”

He let the “dumb jock” comment slide since he hadn’t exactly

acted very smart since arriving in town. Picking up the last ball on
this side of the field, he walked over to Deanna and passed it to her,
both of them holding onto it until she met his gaze. A storm brewed in
her blue eyes and he feared for the person that energy got unleashed
on—at least it wouldn’t be him. “I can’t promise him forever at this
point. No one could after one night, no matter how long we waited for
it but, for the first time in my life, I don’t want to run away. When I’m
with him, I feel more... real than I ever thought possible. I don’t have
to hide anything from him. I’m going to do my best to see this
through, wherever it leads.”

Her shoulders sagged, and a bit of the fire left her. “Just... try

not to hurt him. No stringing him along because the sex is great. And
please don’t tell me if it is—brother, remember? If he’s not the guy
for you, let him go. If you can’t be the guy for him, let him go.”

It wasn’t as if he looked really hard, but at the moment he

couldn’t imagine anything that would take them to that point. Deanna

wanted the same thing he did: to make sure Colby was happy. “If it
comes to that, I won’t be an ass. Believe it or not, I care about him
too.”

She chucked the ball in the cart and let out a sigh. “I do

believe it. I just don’t entirely trust you.”

“Fair enough.” He tugged the squeaking cart toward the next

scattering of balls. “That covers you, but what about the stare-of-
death from Rée?”

Deanna swooped down and returned with two balls in her

hands. She dropped one into the cart and thrust the other at his chest.
He caught it as it hit, but air still whooshed from his lungs. “See how I
almost got the best of you there? Whatever direction Desirée attacks
from, you will never see it coming. I’d tell you to watch your back,
but that won’t be enough. Colby won’t really say anything negative
about her, but take it from me... once she has you in her sights, she
goes for blood.”

The giant fans overhead whirred to life and a chill swept over

Griff. Trying to hide his shiver, he dipped down for a ball. “So I take
it you don’t trust her either.”

Waiting until he stood to answer, Deanna met his gaze, her

blue eyes cold and hard. “No. I’m saying I hate her, and I don’t hate
many people.”

The edge in her voice spoke to more than the girl’s infatuation

with Colby.

“What happened?”
Deanna leaned on the cart, her fingers wrapping around the

metal. “When I told her to back off Colby, she didn’t take it well.
Three days later, Pru’s AT license came under review for
inappropriate behavior. The investigation didn’t last long since it
turned out Prudence had never treated the complainant. Shortly after,
Rée got hurt—not bad, but she needed to see someone to make sure
everything was okay. She specifically asked for Pru. Thankfully,
Prudence was busy with the football team, but it’s kept me on guard
ever since. Rée wants what she wants, and she seems to take great
pleasure in hurting anyone who gets in her way. She still wants
Colby, and after the little display the two of you put on, she knows
damn well that you’re blocking her path.”

The next few days passed in a blur of work and Griff. Colby

refused to think about how much time they had left until the weekend.
It wasn’t a lot. And it sure as hell wasn’t enough.

Tonight they had to go to the official Rose Bowl reunion

dinner. Colby wanted to be happy that Griff invited him at all, since it
was such a huge step, but it meant hours they didn’t have to
themselves. Completely selfish on his part, but Colby didn’t want to
share.

“Hey, handsome. You’re changed already.” Griff sounded

shocked.

“I told you I’d change here so we didn’t have to rush back to

the house.” Colby hit save on his laptop and flipped it shut. His jaw
dropped open when he turned around. Griff looked great in street
clothes and fantastic naked, but nothing had prepared Colby for
seeing him in a suit. The gray pinstripe hugged his body like it had
been custom-tailored, and the steel-colored tie added a hint of power
in its starkness. “You’re fucking breath-taking.”

Griff’s lips quirked to the side, his smile holding more than a

hint of embarrassment, of shyness. The side of his personality he hid
from the world—the part that seemed reserved for Colby alone. “You
look pretty damn good yourself.”

As much as he appreciated the compliment, his off-the-rack

basic black suit didn’t compare. He’d never had need for anything
better but, standing with Griff, he knew if they stayed together, he’d
have to step up. Obviously Jacob Griffin wore suits often. “You sure
you want to show up to this thing with the gay soccer coach? You
won’t be able to pass me off as just your friend around here.”

“I didn’t have any intention of trying.” Griff wrapped an arm

around his waist and nuzzled his neck. The scent of Griff’s cologne
made Colby want to press him against the wall like he had that first
night. Suits be damned. “You ready to go?”

Not at all. But he could behave himself through dinner. “Yeah.

Let’s head out.”

Turning toward the door, he found Rée standing there, glaring

at the two of them. Her gaze flicked to Griff and narrowed further
before she marched down the hall.

Fan-fucking-tastic. That won’t lead to anything good.
He didn’t want to think about the migraine named Desirée

though and, soon enough, Griff had him laughing as they drove a little

way outside of town to Robert’s Fireside Grille. They strode up to the
awning hand in hand but, as they neared the entrance, Colby gave
Griff’s fingers a little squeeze and let go. Before any questions were
asked, he opened the door. “After you. This is your party.”

Griff frowned but walked in, stopping just inside. “What’s

wrong?”

Still nervous about putting Griff on the spot by being there at

all, Colby shrugged. “Go on in. I just need to hit the men’s room real
quick. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

“You sure?” The way his brows knit together, it was clear

Griff didn’t really believe him.

Which only meant they were getting to know each other too

well. “Yeah. Just go. I don’t need you to hold it for me.”

With a stifled snort, Griff shook his head and wandered

toward the raucous laughter that came from beyond a set of partially
closed French doors. As soon as Griff was out of sight, Colby huffed
out a breath. He went into the bar and ordered a beer—he didn’t even
care what kind.

Griff deserved time to get his bearings before dealing with the

backlash of coming out, especially to a bunch of football players.
Still, if he was gone too long... Damn it. This would be so much easier
if Griff was already out.

Colby didn’t chug the beer, but he watched the clock and ten

minutes after sitting down, he slid off the stool and headed toward the
French doors and noise. It was loud enough he slipped inside almost
unnoticed. Griff stood near the blazing stone fireplace, surrounded by
a bunch of guys even bigger than him but softer around the middle. In
the far corner, the strawberry blond of Kyle “Smitty” Smith’s hair
shone. A few of the guys from the team had gone pro. The Rose Bowl
win had made Smitty a first round draft pick and he signed to the
Cowboys right out of college. Colby couldn’t remember which team
he played for now but, of those that had made the NFL, Smitty was
the only one who’d returned for the reunion.

One of the guys talking to Griff followed the waitress with his

eyes and, when she stopped to ask if Colby wanted anything, the
whole group turned his way. As he strode over, Griff’s smile stood
out in a sea of raised eyebrows. The minute the waitress moved away,
Griff sucked in a deep breath, his eyes shining with something far

closer to excitement than Colby would have felt in the moment. He
remembered coming out. Terror was more appropriate.

“Hey, everyone,” Griff yelled before Colby could stop him.

The team ceased talking and all eyes turned toward them. Fuck, this
was worse than coming out himself had been. “Most of us lost touch
since we graduated, and we don’t know each other all that well
anymore. This might be a little out of line since none of you brought
your wives with you tonight, but I brought someone with me. I’d like
all of you to meet Colby Marsters, head soccer coach for the Lady
Bears and my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend? Colby didn’t know what he’d expected but that

single word went beyond fling. Beyond friend with benefits. What the
hell was Griff thinking? Colby couldn’t help but stare at Griff, who
seemed totally calm, even wrapping an arm around Colby’s waist.

Then from the back corner of the room, a voice boomed.

“Well, I guess that answers that question.” Smitty, ever the
quarterback, the leader, stepped from the crowd. “A few of us
wondered years ago, probably more than a few of us actually.”

The scar on Colby’s arm burned, and all he wanted to do was

take Griff and get out of here before things turned ugly. Coming out
to the team first was a mistake. They’d never...

Smitty raised his glass and tipped it toward them. “To being

who you really are.” His gaze shifted to the others in the room. “And
if anyone doesn’t agree, they can get the hell out.”

Chuckles filtered through the crowd, but every glass lifted,

and Colby found the smiling waitress shoving a pilsner into his hand.
Before retreating, she whispered, “You two have got to be the best
looking couple I’ve ever seen in my life. I wish I could drink to you
too.”

She was gone before Colby could even say thanks.
Griff clinked glasses with him, and said, loud enough for

everyone to hear, “To second chances.”

Even though the heat still seared on his arm, a warmer one—a

better one—burned in his cheeks. This was real. Griff had as much as
said he wasn’t cutting and running. This was his life as long as he
wanted it.

Who wouldn’t drink to that? Grinning like a fool in love, he

tipped back his glass.

Trouble

Griff was positively floating. As far as the dinner went, he

couldn’t have planned things better. He hadn’t mentioned anything to
Colby yet, but he was already working out an approach that would
allow him to work remotely, at least part of the time. Surely he could
negotiate deals from anywhere. Worst case, there was always the
Jerry Maguire option. Though he really didn’t like the idea of
scrambling to keep his clients.

But whenever he thought about returning to Chicago, it didn’t

feel like going home. Crazy how Colby’s little ranch felt more
permanent than the apartment he’d had for the last five years. At this
stage though, he couldn’t expect to stay here. Everything was too
new. A week was one thing. They’d have to talk about anything more
long term.

Tomorrow after the game. They had plans to go to the Cubs’

Cave to cap off the week. He’d bring it up there. Satisfied with the
course of action, he watched from his position against the far wall as
Colby finished up practice. When the whistle blew and the girls
started heading toward the locker room, he crossed the field house.

Colby stretched, arching his back with a groan. Griff reached

out and immediately started massaging his shoulders. “Rough day?”

“Truth?”
“Always.”
Colby laughed. “I’m tired. Some guy’s been keeping me up all

week. It’s really cutting into my beauty sleep.”

“Really? We’ll have to remedy that. In bed, all alone, by ten

tonight. Doctor Griffin’s orders.”

“Fuck you, Doc.”
“Isn’t that what’s causing this problem in the first place?”
Colby twisted and swatted him on the ass before heading

toward his office. “I never actually said it was a problem. Beauty
sleep’s over-rated. I’m too damn pretty as it is.”

“That you are. What do you say we—”
The instant they opened the door leading toward Colby’s

office, camera flashes burst to light and some guy shoved a recorder
in front of them. Questions were thrown rapid-fire. “So what’s it like
being a homosexual man coaching an all-female squad? Is this your

lover? What’s your name? What’s it like dating a guy like Coach
Marsters? Do you think he secretly—”

Colby grabbed Griff and yanked him back the way they’d

come, slamming the door between them and the reporter. “Let’s go.”

“But your stuff...”
“We’ll come back for it.” They were outside and sliding into

Griff’s car in under a minute.

“What the hell was that about?” Griff pulled out of the parking

lot and swung toward the gym since he didn’t know where else to go.

They idled at a red light while some of the girls from the team

crossed in front of them. “I don’t know. There were some articles in
the local paper when I first got the job, but that was over a year ago. I
have no idea why it’s coming up now.”

The light was about to turn green again when one more girl

jogged onto the street in front of them. Slowing in front of his car,
Rée twisted her head and flashed a not-so-sweet smile their way. She
was off a second later, running ahead to join the rest of the team.
Colby didn’t mention her, but all Griff could think about was what
happened with Deanna and Pru. If Colby had been out all this time
though, he couldn’t see what harm splashing his name all over the
news again would do.

“Really, it’s not a big deal. They’ll probably be gone in ten

minutes or so. I’ll run in and grab my computer, finish notes at home
tonight. Besides, you promised to cook me dinner.” Colby winked and
rubbed at his shoulder.

Griff hadn’t realized how much he’d tensed up until his

muscles started to unknot. “Yeah. I left the steaks marinating when I
came to get you.”

“Sounds perfect. I might even break down and have wine with

you tonight.”

It did sound perfect. Griff just had a horrible feeling like

Desirée was doing her best to find a way to ruin their little slice of
happiness. Not wanting to wreck the night by bringing it up, he kept
his concerns to himself.

“Good news,” Colby announced, escaping the light rain that

had started to fall by climbing back into the car after racing into his
office. “One of the janitors recognized the guy. He’s just a reporter
for the college paper. Odds are they had a last minute spot to fill.
Game stuff and whatnot goes into the Homecoming edition, and then

they have another paper that comes out on Monday. The piece,
whatever angle he’s taking, probably won’t make it in anyway since
me being gay isn’t news.”

“Okay. I won’t worry about it anymore then.” Griff put as

much conviction as he could into the words. After all, the story made
sense, and if Rée hadn’t made a point of lagging behind as the team
crossed the street, he could have brushed it off.

As he drove toward Colby’s house, he turned the events over

and over in his head. Actually, if she was behind this, not only would
she have had to arrange for the reporter, but she also would’ve had to
know how Colby would react and planned for them to see her as they
drove away. No matter how diabolical the girl was, it seemed like a
lot of work for nothing.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, he’d dismissed the

whole thing. A messed up coincidence, nothing more.

“So we’re still on for tonight, right?” Deanna nudged Colby as

the half-time show started.

Over the blast of trumpets and the bellow of the tubas, Colby

half-yelled, “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

Pru nudged Deanna and leaned over her. “What she’s really

asking is what’s going on with you two? He didn’t cut and run yet,
obviously, but what happens now?”

“Thanks. I was getting there.” Deanna gave her a half-hearted

shove back into her own seat then pecked her cheek. “So? Have you
even talked about it? I mean, the bar sounds like a fun time, but he
leaves tomorrow. If it hasn’t come up yet, maybe you should spend
that time figuring out what you are to each other.”

Colby scrubbed at his face. He wanted those answers more

than anyone else, but they were either going to try to keep seeing each
other or they weren’t. If they were, then they’d make it work. If they
weren’t... No amount of talking tonight would change that. He’d
rather they spent what might be their last night together having fun.
Besides, his gut told him Griff wanted to be with him. He’d rather
hang onto that until he didn’t have a choice.

The marching band settled into formation, and the color guard

had their flags presented, forming a tunnel of sorts on the fifty-yard
line. One by one, as their names were announced, the returning Rose
Bowl heroes came down the line to the applause of the crowd.

“Number seventy-three! Defensive tackle Jacob Griffin!”
The student body on the other side of the arena roared for him,

louder than they had for anyone other than Smitty. On this side, where
the alumni sat, the applause was markedly less enthusiastic, other than
from their trio. Colby clapped until his hands were raw, but the
discrepancy made his skin crawl. Something wasn’t right, and he
wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

As soon as the presentation ended and they moved on to the

nonsense with Homecoming King and Queen, Deanna jerked on his
jacket. “What the hell was that all about?”

He’d really hoped he had imagined it. “I have no idea.”
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Deanna was never one to shy away from

cursing, but it usually meant bad things when she did it more than
once.

“Deanna...”
“You know Rée isn’t happy about the two of you, right? This

can’t be a surprise.” She twisted a finger in her hair, tugging until Pru
forcibly untwined it.

“I didn’t know but, no, I’m not surprised.” Colby glanced

around the stands. “You think she managed to turn the alumni against
him? Deanna...”

Shaking her head, she frowned at the field as the band

marched off. “I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure of is that girl is
trouble, and she doesn’t want anyone getting in her way where you’re
concerned. As far as she sees it, Griff is one big fucking brick wall in
her path. Even if she hasn’t done anything yet, I’m pretty sure she
will. You need to deal with it, one way or another.”

Sure. Like that was as easy as sitting her down for a polite

little chat. He wasn’t going to let her get in between him and Griff
though. That was for damn sure.

Griff came back to their seats, grinning from ear to ear, and

Colby put on a happy face for him. On the way out of the game, they
crossed paths with Smitty’s Lexus. The window rolled down and he
leaned out, shaking his head. “Ten years, Griff. Ten damn years in the
NFL, and you manage to be more famous than me this weekend. I’ll
get you the next time.”

The car behind him honked, and Smitty pulled away, waving

but without waiting for a response. Griff’s brows pulled together as he
frowned. “What the hell was he talking about?”

Colby shook his head, but a chill ran down his spine that had

nothing to do with the brisk fall air. “Does it really matter?” he asked,
forcing a smile onto his face once more. “Let’s just get going so we
can have our night out.”

Minutes after they entered Cubs’ Cave, drinks in hand, they

wound their way through the early crowd and found a booth. Lights
played along the walls in an array of color and, combined with the
thump of music, eased Colby into a comfortable slouch next to Griff.
Deanna and Pru took off to do the women-in-the-bathroom-together
thing, leaving them alone.

Griff broke the silence in seconds. “I have to go back to

Chicago tomorrow.”

Shit. They were having this conversation here. “That sounds

like the plan you mentioned for Sunday.”

“Touché.” Griff tipped his glass in Colby’s direction. “And

what about after Sunday?”

“You’re not putting this on me. We both know damn well how

I feel about it. I’m the relationship guy. You’re the one who needs to
decide what you want.”

Griff sucked in a breath and turned to him with a nervous

smile. “What I want is—”

“I hate to interrupt, but I was right.” Deanna stood at the side

of the booth, her eyes sad, worried even. She handed Colby the
Homecoming edition of the student paper. “I don’t know what she
plans to do from here, but Desirée needs to go.”

There, on the front page, under the title “Rose Bowl Victors:

Where Are They Now,” was a huge photo of Griff with Colby.

Griff snatched the paper up and read. Defensive tackle Jacob

Griffin may have lost his shot to play with the big boys, but his years
as an agent to the stars have led him back to where he started—to
find romance with one of the big men on campus. Congrats, guys, you
make a beautiful couple.

His jaw dropped open and the paper sagged. “This is a

nightmare.”

“I thought you were good with us,” Colby said.
Griff could barely stand to look at the hurt in his eyes.

“I haven’t even come out to my family yet! Now it’s plastered

on the damn school paper. Who knows what she’ll do next? I have no
clue what effect me being gay is going to have at work. I can’t just
stand by and let her throw this out there. I am good with us, but I have
to do this right, Colby.” As more people came into the bar, the music
thumped louder, pounding against his skull.

“What are you saying?”
A minute earlier he’d been about to announce that he wanted

to come back, wanted to make this work, but now... “I need time to
get things ironed out, I know that now. But the bigger problem is it
won’t stop with the damn college paper. She pulled this together in a
couple days, Colby. With nothing to go on, no time to dig up dirt.
What if I hadn’t come out to the guys on Thursday? What if they
hadn’t taken it as well as they did?”

Colby rubbed the back of his neck, pulling on it, as he refused

to look Griff’s way. “Now you’re worried about your reputation
again? Griff, you’re in a fucking gay bar. You need to decide who the
hell you are. I want to be with you, but I won’t hide. I did my hiding
already. I’ve got the Goddamned scars to show for it. I won’t do it
again. I can’t.”

Looking around, Griff felt panic start to settle in his chest. He

couldn’t stay here. As much as he wanted to be with Colby, to hang
out with Deanna and Pru, he couldn’t be here. “I... I can’t think. I
can’t breathe. I can’t do anything here.”

The lines of Colby’s face hardened as he ground his teeth

together. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll take you home. Let me just say my
goodbyes.”

Griff nodded, but as soon as he hugged Deanna and Pru, he

barreled his way to the door, desperate for air. He was met with more
camera flashes and Rée’s face.

“Having a good night, Mr. Griffin? I am. I think tonight’s

shaping up beautifully.”

“What the hell are you doing?” He gaped as the guy with the

camera peeled out of the parking lot.

Rée grinned—the same evil smile as she had earlier. “That

depends on you. Walk away, and I do nothing. Stick around, and I
will make it my goal in life to ruin you by whatever means
necessary.” She waved toward the retreating taillights. “Reporters and

pictures are just the beginning. Get out of Colby’s life and you won’t
have to find out what else I have up my sleeve.”

Suddenly he couldn’t breathe out here either. All the air had

been sucked from his world. “Why are you doing this? Colby’s gay.
He likes men.”

“You know, they still haven’t decided for sure that it’s not just

a choice. I’ve spent too much of my life watching everyone else get
everything handed to them. The only thing that ever made me rise
above and succeed was the way I made goals and stuck to them. My
long-term goal is to go pro one day, but short term? I’ll settle for
Colby. I’m confident that eventually, he’ll let me have my moment,
and then he can go back to liking whoever the fuck he wants. But I
want him and I always get what I want. First though, you have to
leave.” She patted his cheek, a little harder than could be considered
friendly. “Have a great night, Mr. Griffin. Actually, since I’ve heard
you’re a smart guy, this should be the last time I see you, so let’s
make that have a great life.”

Sorry

“You don’t get it, Colby. Your little star goalie has made it her

mission to destroy my life if I stick around and, from what little I’ve
seen and heard, she can do it too.” Griff raked his hands through his
hair, perilously close to yanking it out by the roots.

Colby slammed the refrigerator door, jars clattering against

each other with the impact. “So what are you going to do? Just leave?
She’s a teenage girl, Griff. She’s not a god.”

“She might as well be and a vengeful one at that.” He wished

like hell he could make Colby understand. Rée wasn’t going to let this
go. He’d seen the look in her eyes. He’d been told from the
beginning: there wasn’t much in this life that she wanted more than
Colby. Barring that, she clearly wanted to make anyone who kept her
from him hurt as much as possible. Half a second from slamming his
hand onto the countertop, Griff clenched it into a fist. “I don’t want to
go, but if I stay she’s just going to drive things between us until we
fall apart. And I sure as hell don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that either, but running isn’t the answer.” Colby

jerked the bottle opener against his beer so hard that the top of the
bottle broke. He chucked the entire thing in the sink and braced his
hands against the edge of the counter, the muscles of his arms
bunching and cording.

Griff stepped forward and ran his hands up and down Colby’s

arms. “I’m not talking forever. Just until she gets over this or is
gone.”

Muscles tensing even more, Colby spun around, and his face

was lined with some strange combination of hurt and rage. “Until
she’s gone? She’s a fucking freshman, Griff! Unless she flunks out
and loses her scholarship—which I stupidly seem to have prevented
since her new tutor says she’s doing great—she’s here for four years
minimum. You really want to wait four more years? We’ve already
waited twelve.”

“We don’t have to call it quits. We’ll just... avoid here. You

can come see me in Chicago. Weekends. Vacations. We can make it
work.” That was the moment he realized he’d just admitted if it
wasn’t for Desirée, he would have wanted more.

And Colby obviously realized it too. In a breath, he shoved

past Griff and started mopping up spilled beer with a towel. “You’re
serious. You were going to stay until this bullshit? It took you all this
time to come out to anyone and now at the first fucking sign of
trouble you’re going back into hiding. You know what, Griff? You’re
a coward.” Shaking his head, Colby threw the towel into the sink.
“How about this? When you decide to man the fuck up, you can come
back. I can’t guarantee how long I’ll be willing to wait, but I can tell
you it definitely won’t be four years.”

“Colby...” Griff reached for him, wanting to kiss away the

hurt.

It was too late for that though. Colby snatched up his keys and

headed to the door. “Lock up when you leave.”

The door slammed, sealing them off from each other less

effectively than Griff had. A fist closed around his heart as his lips
burned with longing and unshared kisses.

He waited until an hour after the bars had closed for the night,

hoping Colby would come back so they could talk and try to work
things out. A desperate text to Deanna gave him his answer.

He’s sleeping in our guest room. No, you can’t come over. Get

out of his life until you’re ready to really be in it. He deserves that
much.

Griff dropped the phone onto the counter and closed his eyes.

How had he let things get to this? He had no clue what had gone
wrong but, even if he had to leave for now, he couldn’t just abandon
everything. Somehow he had to fix this.

Clothes shoved into his suitcase, he loaded the car and locked

Colby’s front door. Heart aching with every step away from the
house, he pulled out of the driveway and left the only place he’d ever
really felt alive, leaving his home to flee back to the safety of his
apartment.

“The scouts are here again.” Deanna nudged Colby and tipped

her head toward a couple of suits in the stands.

“I know.” They’d been showing up sporadically for the last

month and a half. This was the Bears’ last regular season game before
the tournament started next week. After that came a much-needed
winter break. For the first time in years, he’d debated going home for

the holidays. Maybe there he could escape thoughts of Griff and the
empty feeling he had every time he went back to his place. “And
before you ask, no, I don’t know why they’re here.”

“At least everyone’s been on target. Whoever they’re

watching, it’ll probably turn out well enough.” In the midst of
shrugging, she took off at a jog to scream at one of the forwards.

Colby tried to ignore the scouts. Tried to ignore the fans and

the way he yearned to scan through them all for Griff. He’d allowed
himself to do it the first couple weeks after Homecoming. Then he
had to force himself to stop.

No matter what else, he couldn’t chase after or pine over a guy

who was too afraid to come out and really be with him. It would never
work. That moment when Griff had called Colby his boyfriend at the
Rose Bowl dinner might have given him false hope, but he was over
it. Every ounce of his attention needed to go to work now. It was the
only way he stayed sane.

He finally lost himself in the rhythm of the game, in the smell

of grass and sweat, the sound of cheers and pounding feet. Minutes
ticked away, and only when the buzzer sounded at the end and the
taste of victory sparked and faded in his mouth did he let himself
think about going home to an empty house.

A smile forced its way onto his face as the team rushed over to

tackle him. This win not only put them at the top of the conference, it
also ensured them a choice bracket in the tournament. He wouldn’t be
able to plan for the other team until slots were listed, but maybe he
could kill a few hours after talking to the press with going over
videos. Figure out where they were lacking and how to fix it. At the
very least it would keep him busy until he could pass out on the
couch.

After a quick congrats to the girls in the locker room, he

bolted and hit the men’s room to scrub his face clean. Ever since the
stupid Homecoming article, he’d hated dealing with the press, but it
was part of the job, even if women’s sports tended to get little more
than a mention anywhere.

Standing up, he caught a flash of movement in the mirror.

Someone had walked in and, through the open door, he saw a burly
man with black hair stride past, his steps confident, sure. Colby
rubbed at the bridge of his nose, wishing he could stop seeing Griff
everywhere. “Just get through the press conference and you can either

lose yourself in work or go home and lose yourself in a damn six
pack.”

He managed to answer all the questions thrown at him. An

easy enough feat since none of them were “how’s your love life?”
Then a hand shot up near the back of the room, and Colby pointed
absently to the woman.

“So, Coach Marsters, what’s your take on the rumor that the

Atlanta Beat is looking to steal Desirée Jackson from your line-up?”

Colby’s head shot toward her voice. He’d seen the woman

here before: always silk blouses under severe jackets. This was the
first time she’d ever asked a question—and he had no answer for her.
Knowing if he looked at her too long she’d see the truth—that he’d
had no clue and hadn’t even heard the rumor—he shifted his gaze to
the right. Only to find himself confronted with Griff’s heart-stopping
smile.

“Coach?” the woman asked.
Colby couldn’t tear himself away from Griff and he didn’t

bother trying. “No comment.”

“I’ll comment.” Desirée’s voice did what the reporter’s

couldn’t, and he jerked his head toward the door. She strode through,
the scouts trailing on her heels. Speechless and confused as hell,
Colby shrugged and gave up the microphone. “It’s for real. The thing
I’ve worked for and dreamed about all my life has finally come true.
As soon as the season ends here, I will be the newest goalie for the
Atlanta Beat. The...”

Colby didn’t bother listening any further. All the reporters

were focused on Rée now and would be until she left. Instead, he
moved to the side of the room and waited.

A few seconds later, Griff stood next to him, his voice little

more than a whisper. “Hi.”

“You came back.”
His head moved in a slow nod. “Hoping I didn’t take too long

to ‘man the fuck up.’ I had a few things I needed to take care of.”

Almost choking as he tried to stifle a laugh, Colby jerked his

chin toward the podium. “Like this?”

“No. Like coming out to my family. And dealing with work.”

Griff shrugged, the movement shifting his arm so it rubbed against
Colby’s. “Okay, and this. Deanna said the only thing she wanted more
than you was a pro career. Don’t be—”

Rée left the podium, and Colby held up a finger. “Stay right

here.” He strode up to the microphone. “Any more questions?
Fantastic. I’m sure Desirée and the Beat will do a more official
meeting with the press at the end of the season. Thank you all for
coming.”

He managed to stay at the front of the room until no one was

left in the room but the two of them. As Colby started to toward him,
Griff said, “I couldn’t take the risk of her tearing us apart, but I wasn’t
willing to risk losing you by waiting for her to graduate either. I know
it means you need to look for a new goalie, but—”

Colby pushed him against the wall. “Shut up and kiss me.”
All the hunger and need of the weeks spent apart were poured

into the press of lips on lips, the caress of tongues, the pain of fingers
digging into skin and holding on for dear life. Until that moment,
Colby hadn’t truly let himself admit how much he’d missed Griff.
How low he’d been sinking. It was as if the one kiss brought his life
back. He wanted to revel in the feeling forever.

All too soon, Griff pulled away. “I love you, you know.”
Nothing else would have been worth their lips separating, but

this was. “I do now.”

Griff’s shy smile lit up Colby’s whole world. “Does that mean

I’m forgiven?”

“It means you better not run again.” Colby met his gaze,

daring him to argue, praying that he wouldn’t. “It means if you’re
back in my life and telling me you love me, you better plan on staying
in it.”

Griff brushed a searing kiss over his jaw. “I have absolutely

no intention of leaving you.”

Though there was no sane reason to take Griff at his word,

Colby’s heart could feel the truth, the rightness of it all. Like the
moment of crystal clarity when a game was on the line and he could
see that final score. “Glad to hear it, because I’m playing for keeps,
Jacob Griffin, and I’m sure as hell not letting you get away again.”

Epilogue

Eros stood on the edge of the soccer field, watching as the sun

teased the horizon, painting the sky in a rainbow. The touch of the
lovers—darkness and light—glowing as only real things can. “Love
in every color.”

“When is a sunrise not just a sunrise?” A lithe beauty with

waves of golden hair stepped up next to him, creamy gown swirling
about her ankles.

His lips curled into a smile, Eros turned from one natural

beauty to another. Letting out a slow sigh, he caressed her cheek.
“When the veil has thinned enough so gods can dance on the earth.
I’ve missed you, Erato. The few minutes we got to spend together in
California weren’t nearly enough.”

“I’ve missed you as well but, clever as your brother is, I can’t

stay for long. When the sun crests the horizon, I must return.” Her
fingers skated over his bald head, a quiet smile playing on her lips.

Eros cringed away from the touch. Maybe this hadn’t been

such a wise thing to bargain for after all. “I’ll get the hair back
eventually. This look isn’t permanent, Erato.”

“I know that. Things are rarely permanent, including you and

I, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t wonderful when they happen. As
for this...” She moved closer, both hands on his head now.
“Sometimes even the king of the gods is a fool. Though I didn’t see it
at first, it isn’t your hair or your wings or your body that makes you
glorious, Eros. You let vanity cover your heart for so long that it
forgot to beat inside your chest. Now? It radiates again.

“In case I don’t get to see you again before you return to

Olympus, know that what you’re doing here is important.” Her
fingers trailed over his neck, coming to rest directly over his heart.
“Love in all forms is important, and it’s what makes you beautiful.
Quite frankly, this look works for you in ways Zeus could never have
imagined.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch, letting the warmth

of her sink into his skin. “So you still want me even though I’m not a
god?”

She eased onto the grass, wildflowers springing to life around

her, and tugged him down. “The time will come when our paths will

diverge. We’ve always known that. But there will never be a moment
in the whole of my existence that I will not want you, Eros.”

As she kissed him, their clothing evaporated, the mist bathing

their skin in golden light. In her arms, he felt whole again, strong, like
nothing could stop him. Even so, he couldn’t help but remember their
time together was fleeting. Soon enough he’d be alone again—just as
Colby and Griff had been for so long—and the knowledge made his
heart pang.

As if she read his thoughts, Erato pulled back from the kiss

and traced his face with the feather light touch of her fingers. “You
will never be alone. The love of millions of souls resides inside you...
including mine. And, no matter what Zeus does, you will always be a
god.”

For the first time, he felt it—the glow of what he held inside

of him. As he came together with Erato, their light eclipsed that of the
rising sun—bright enough to blind even the king of the gods.

The End

www.selestedelaney.com

Other Books by Seleste deLaney:

www.evernightpublishing.com/pages/Seleste-deLaney.html

If you enjoyed this book, you may also like:

Pursuit of a Kiss by Lola Drake

Going the Distance by Angela Addams

I’m All Yours by Vanessa Devereaux

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com