“Are you drunk?” Rusty asked.
“Only a bit.” Digger patted Rusty’s forearm. “You should be on the first pair with Petrov. Maybe we’d win some games.”
Rusty peered at him. “You’re more than a little bit drunk.” But as he ducked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, he realized his bad mood had vanished. Yeah, the team was losing, but he was playing well. People were noticing. And he’d had sort-of sex with his… boyfriend? Fuck it, he was going to start calling Cross his boyfriend. He’d got off and Cross seemed happy. And in five days, he’d make Cross even happier.
The pounding water of the shower couldn’t wash the smile off Rusty’s face.
Chapter 12
“Hey.” Cross caught up with Scott as they left the arena after morning practice. “You going anywhere right now?”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “Home to eat lunch and nap.”
“Oh, right.” Because duh, where else would a teammate be going between practice and the game? But he’d geared himself up to talk to Scott and he didn’t want to wait. “You want to catch lunch together?”
“Sure, okay. Where?”
This was the tricky part, because Cross knew he couldn’t say one word of the important stuff if they were in public. “My place? I can order some chicken parm from that great Italian restaurant, and pick it up on the way.”
Scott eyed him, his head tilted, then smiled. “Hell yeah, I’d commit several illegal sex acts for that chicken.”
Cross flushed. “I didn’t mean anything like that.”
Scott’s tone gentled. “I know, just teasing. Can I bring anything?”
“No, we’re good. You remember how to get there?”
Scott laughed. “It’s only been three weeks since we painted Rusty’s truck. I think I can find it.”
“Right. Of course.”Only three weeks.Cross felt like his whole life had imploded in those few weeks. Or maybe expanded. Hewasn’t sure which. “Let me know when you get to the gate and I’ll open it remotely for you.”
“Fancy. I’ll see you there.”
Scott strode off across the player parking lot and Cross watched him go. He wore tight jeans that had to be tailored for him, to fit that ass and those thighs. Scott was a great guy, and objectively scorching hot, and Cross felt nothing special about him. If it’d been Rusty walking ahead… well, he’d have hurried to catch up, for one thing.
He got into his SUV and headed toward the restaurant.Am I really going to tell Scott about Rusty?He still wasn’t sure. Maybe he could talk in more general terms.
He and Rusty had texted quite a lot since that FaceTime session. No more video though. That had been an interesting experience. Cross had been surprised how much he loved watching Rusty all hot and bothered, and then coming. Coming because Cross asked him to. Or told him to. God, that had made Cross feel amazing, although not enough for his dick to get fully into the act. But he’d wanted to be there to kiss Rusty in the panting, red-faced aftermath.
Cross had looked up some BDSM stuff after that night, but he didn’t think he was really into Dom-sub or Daddy-boy. Nothing against it for other people, but he didn’t want to boss Rusty around. Much. But he’d believed Rusty when he said he got off harder when Cross was telling him how to jerk off and watching. That long, hard, messy orgasm and Rusty’s blissed-out expression afterward had been a whole other world from what Cross experienced when he jerked off.
Although maybe that was more about how bad Cross was at masturbation than how awesome that video call had been. He wavered between pride and embarrassment.
Rusty said it was hotter. Said it was awesome.Had Rusty just been flattering him?
He realized he’d driven past the restaurant and went around the block.
Heading to his place with boxes of fragrant Italian food on the other seat, he resolved not to wimp out. He’d ask Scott his questions. Well, some of them. He wanted a relationship with Rusty, and he wasn’t going to hide from that fact, but hehadbeen hiding things about himself and he wanted to be smart about this.
Scott texted that he was at the gate, and Cross used the app on his smart watch to turn off the alarm and open the barrier for him. He was only five minutes behind and when he arrived, Scott swung down out of his SUV in front of the house.
“Hey,” Scott called. “Can I carry anything?”
“I didn’t get that much food.” Except maybe he had. “You can grab that big box. It’s the breadsticks. Pregame carbs, right?”
Scott leaned in to grab the container. “Smells great.”
“Come on.” Cross led them inside to the kitchen and set the food on the counter. “Pull up a stool. Let me get some silverware and waters.”
