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With him.
FIFTEEN
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
The second the gym door closes behind Ty, I’m no longer playing it cool. Instead, I’m freaking the fuck out.
“Oh my god,” I mutter to myself as I vigorously rub my hands over my face.
I sucked his dick. And he liked it.
Yeah, he freaked out and left, but it was obvious he was into it. He wanted it. He finally let go of everything that keeps him so closed off, and he let me in.
The way he opened his lips for me and pushed his tongue into my mouth… and his grip on my hair while I licked and sucked his cock… he was right there with me the whole time. For the first time in all the years I’ve known him, we weren’t fighting against each other. And for the first time since we both came to this gym, we were in sync. His guard came down, and for a brief moment, he trusted me. And I trusted him.
My eyes finally move away from the gym door, as I accept that he’s not coming back. And as I go through the motions of showering, changing and leaving the gym, I’m on autopilot. My thoughts keep bringing me back to the feeling of him against me, the taste of him on my tongue, his stubble against my cheek…
The real Ty came out to play tonight, and I want to know him. I want to know why he stays locked up, hiding behind a scowl and a need to control. Why he can’t just let himself enjoy life… and why I was able to get it out of him.
I want more. I need more.
As I pull into my parking space at home, I lay my head back on the seat and blow out a breath of frustration.
Fuck. I’m in deep.
My phone starts buzzing, cutting off The Beastie Boys blaring through my kitchen. Annoyed, I glance at my phone to curse out whoever interrupted my jam session, as I was finally getting into a groove and forgetting the events of tonight. But a smile spreads across my face when I see my older sister’s name lighting up the screen.
I wipe my hands and answer, putting her on speaker. “Hey.”
“Hey, bud,” Mia’s voice comes through the speaker. “Wanted to catch you before you went to bed, hope I’m not waking you. We haven’t had a chance to catch up lately.”
“Yeah,” I agree, “that’s kind of my bad. I’ve been at the gym a lot.”
“Well,” she says, “I’ve also been working an insane amount, so-”
She’s interrupted by the oven timer, and I reach out to turn it off.
“Are you baking?” she asks.
I pause my whisking and eye the phone warily. “Yes…”
Mia is silent for a moment before asking, “What’s wrong?”
I sigh. “Nothing is wrong, I’m just baking, ok?”
“No, you don’t just bake. You stress bake. And it’s 10:30 at night.”
“So?”
“So, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I open the oven door and slide in a pan of cookies. Which will bring my total to thirty-six muffins and twenty-four cookies.
“Problems at the gym? Girl or boy trouble? Work?”
I huff and ignore her.
But she stays silent.
