Page 30 of Goalie interference

Like, really into it.

Like, Thayer calling me baby and holding on to my neck like that were two of my new favorite things these days.

Thayer explained the basics to me in the morning, over breakfast that he made for me–what it was called and what it traditionally looked like. He explained it one way, and I was super not into it at all–I didn’t want to be hit or bottle-fed–but then he explained that there were types within it.

Thayer was a soft dom.

He didn't want to hit me or be called daddy–none of that. He liked control. He liked his hand on me, having the exact effect that it did–that was apparently rare.

That two people in this were randomly the same type, but we were.

“Hey–no more using it in the locker room,” I added, making Thayer chuckle as he handed me more pancakes. “That was rough–I felt really weird after and had to take a cold shower to make my boner go down–”

“You felt weird after because of me, and I’m sorry,” he hummed, nudging his head at my plate for me to start eating again. “I shouldn't have done it, especially when I'd already suspected you might be into this, but you felt weird because I sent you away–it was a punishment. I shouldn't have done it in public–among other reasons, to not do it again in the locker room–I won't do that again.”

We’d been going back and forth for a while now, questions about what this was from me and setting boundaries for us both–hence how the hitting conversation played out. I liked Thayer, and I was honest about that, which seemed to make him happy–happy enough that he asked me on a date.

What a weird few days it had been…

A few weeks ago, I was suffering through boring, painful sex with Callie, taking her on dates when she’d tell me it had been too long since we went on one. Every second of dating her felt like I was walking uphill on a bum leg, but Thayer?

The only part that actually felt hard or wrong was how badly I knew this would blow up his life.

When it got out.

“Should probably break up with Callie,” I mumbled, shoveling another forkful of pancakes into my mouth with a huff.

“Ash!” he said suddenly, catching my attention with his sudden outburst. “You came over here last night and didn’t think about that before?”

“We haven’t talked in a while…and I kind of had other priorities when I came over here,” I muttered, sinking in my seat a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t–” He cut himself off, letting out a sigh to calm himself down. “You don’t have to be sorry, Ash, but you do need to do something here. I’m not telling you to break up with her, but you need to decide if you want to and tell me.”

“Oh, I want to,” I chuckled, cutting it off when I didn't even see a ghost of a smile on his face–he was upset. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “We haven’t talked since that day I even told you about her, and I just kind of assumed we were done–I want to be done. I want you.”

My insides twisted a little, but not in the confusing way it had been for him.

I'd been so confused by the things he stirred up in me, but now I could plainly see my insides were twisting because he was upset, and I caused it–I didn’t want him upset with me.

Thayer pushed back his chair and stood, bending over to kiss the top of my head. “I want you, too, baby…as stupid and dangerous as it is,” he mumbled into my hair, kissing it again and walking off to wash dishes.

◆◆◆

“You’re such an asshole!” Callie shouted, throwing another one of my textbooks at the wall. “I’ve been waiting for you to get your head out of your ass for weeks, and this was what you came up with?”

Callie threw a framed picture of my family and me at the wall, only barely missing my head. It cracked on impact and shattered all over the floor, followed by a flurry of papers when she threw my Econ notebook at me.

Maybe there was a better way to have approached this, but I was pretty sure dumping her would always have gone this way.

She was kind of crazy–I just used to like crazy. It was different.

Now I had a better different.

“I’m sorry, okay?” I asked, dodging another throw of books at my head. “I thought we were done anyway! You haven’t answered a text in weeks, and that’s like the basic requirement of a girlfriend–”

“So you fucked a guy?” she shouted, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “I didn’t text you back for a while, so along with cheating on me, you fucked a man–are you fucking insane?”

My mom really did raise me with the honesty is the best policy, but maybe I should have sugarcoated this one.