18. Jagger

Jagger

F irst, we get a win, then my sponsors tell me our pillow fight video went viral so they want Cruz and I to do some more collaborations—for a bigger payout of course—and now we're headed out to celebrate.

Best.

Day.

Ever.

We decide to hit up Jerry's first, sort of like a warm-up before heading to Bennet's frat for the real party. Nate and a few of our other teammates have the same idea, so after we grab some beers—complimentary ones from Jerry himself for the win—we make our way to the pool tables where they're holding court.

"One and oh, baby." Nate fist bumps each of us as we join the group.

"Nothing like winning the home opener," I agree.

"We didn't just win, we dominated." Nate grins.

"True that," our center, Garrett, lifts his glass. He's a man of few words, but those ones are accurate, so I lift my glass as well.

There are too many people packed around the tables to play, so Cameron finds a stool and plops his ass down, sticking his leg out so I can perch on it like I always do, and we spend next hour or so reminiscing about the game and the upcoming season. There are cheers and high-fives, and more than a few drinks that slosh out of their glass as we toast our win, all of which has me smiling so hard my face starts to ache.

I fucking love it.

Bennet is a little quiet though, which I get since he's disappointed in himself for not besting his old rival, so I'm sure to mention how epic his one catch was. I'm not even blowing smoke either, it was a key play in our third scoring drive, and he deserves credit for helping put those points on the board. He almost grimaces when I give him a shout-out though, so to take the attention off him, I praise Cam for his pass blocking, which is usually a weak part of his game, but which looked incredible today.

Around nine thirty, a few of the guys break away to head over to the frat. The plan is to follow after we've finished our beers, but before I can slam mine back, Cam's hand finds my hip and grabs me—hard—and I look up to see Anna heading straight for me.

My buoyant mood starts to sink. I sort of thought she was a thing of the past since she'd stopped texting me, but the determined look in her eyes says otherwise, and I have a feeling I'm in for a conversation I don't want.

Shit .

"Hey, Anna." I smile, doing my best to seem casual instead of mildly worried about what she's going to say.

"Good game, today." She smiles expectantly.

"Thanks."

There's an awkward beat of silence despite the fact we're surrounded by loud music and even louder conversations, and I swallow back a gulp of beer so I don't have to fill it with words.

"I was thinking we could celebrate later. Together," she adds, as if I needed that little clarification. And while part of me is frustrated that she's propositioning me when I've done my best not to give the impression I'm interested, part of me wants to spare her from rejection in front of my friends by saying yes.

That's not an option though, since I could never do that to Cam.

We haven't really talked about how I let him fuck me—except for the part about me wanting to return the favor at some point and him being okay with that—so I don't think there's an expectation of exclusivity or anything. But aside from the fact I think something more than amazing sex might be afoot between us, I don't want anyone else.

There's really only one way to respond to her that's both honest—mostly—and spares her dignity. I just hope Cam's ready for it since I don't have time to run it by him.

"I appreciate that Anna, really. But I'm sort of spoken for at the moment."

Her jaw falls open as she sucks in a startled breath, but unfortunately, she isn't the only one, and I realize too late the flaw in my otherwise solid plan.

"Who are you screwing?" Bennet demands.

"Him." I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, bracing for Cam to laugh or snort or something that spoils my ruse, but all he does is tighten his grip on my hip.

Bennet snorts though, which makes Anna suspicious.

"I thought he was your best friend?" Her stare is sort of icy as she glances between the two of us.

"He is."

"And now you're dating?" She presses.

"They say being friends first makes all the difference."

"Prove it." She crosses her arms in front of her chest .

"How?"

"Kiss him." The smirk on her face is downright wicked.

"What are we, twelve?" I slam the rest of my beer, set it on the table, and stand up so fast she's forced to take a few steps back so I don't knock her over. Then I offer my hand to Cam and pull him up so he's standing slightly behind me, hand still clasped in mine. "I'm not going to perform like some circus animal just because you don't believe me."

"You'd only have to perform if this is all an act," she retorts, which…is a good point. But I'm doing this to spare her feelings, so I dig my heels in.

"Believe me or don't, that's up to you. But I'm not going to cheapen what we have by jumping through a bunch of hoops to convince you it's real."

"I don't believe it. This is obviously bullshit."

Damn. I expected her to be too shocked to call me out. Now what?

"Look, I'm sorry this isn't what you wanted to hear, but it's true." I try to step around her, but she blocks my path.

"Even he knows you're lying." Anna points a finger at Bennet. "What kind of asshole makes up a story about dating his best friend instead of just saying he's not interested?"

Well, fuck. I sort of thought the story would be letting her down easy, but maybe I am an asshole. No better than the guy who spawned me. How do I fix this?

"I—" Nothing else comes out because I'm suddenly being pulled by the waist of my shorts, and I stumble right into Cam's chest with a thud that robs me of air.

Did he just manhandle me? That's kinda… Wait, am I standing on my own or is he holding me up?

Chests pressed together, my eyes travel from his mouth—mere inches from my own—to his whisky-brown gaze, and my breath catches all over again when I realize underneath the protective expression he usually wears when he steps in on my behalf, there's a hint of desire. It's faint, but to me it's unmistakable, and the shockwaves it ignites have me as amped as I get before a game.

My heart thumps louder than the bass coming through the speakers, and the music around us morphs into a persistent hum. Conversations grow indistinguishable. Faces become a blur. There's only Cam and his plump lips, so close I could touch them with mine if I rock my weight onto my toes, and the urge to do it is so overpowering I nearly do.

I hold still though, waiting to see what he has in mind.

I'm half-expecting him to crush his mouth to mine in a brutal kiss intended to save me from my own ramblings, because saving me is what he does. But instead of smashing our faces together he pauses, his intent stare holding me captive for a beat before it falls to my lips.

"Should I stop?" He arches a brow as his eyes find mine again.

My gaze settles on his mouth. "Hell no."

With exaggerated slowness, he leans in just enough to brush his lips against mine. It's so soft, so tender, I almost wonder if I've imagined the contact. But the spark of electricity that jumps between us, kicking my heart into overdrive, tells me we are touching.

Kissing .

And even though it's slight, only the barest of pressure, it might just be the hottest thing I've ever felt on my lips. Utter bliss.

I need more.

Leaning in, I up the contact slightly, and feel his breath catch. I whimper, whimper , and lean in for more.

He meets me halfway, opening his mouth just enough that the tip of his tongue can slip past his lips to glide along mine. My chest does this weird thump that feels like it's going to burst from such a slight tease, and I tilt my head and open my mouth so I can taste him to the fullest.

There's a hint of cheap beer and the burritos we had for dinner in his kiss, but there's also the leather and wood aroma that's so distinctly Cam, which all combine in this heady mix that has my dick stirring behind the waistband he's still got a hold of.

It's official, this is hotter than the berry crap most women slather on their lips.

I just barely stop myself from laughing as that thought crosses my mind—fruity shit always tasted good to me before—but Cam tastes better.

Lost to the most intense kiss of my life, I'm vaguely aware of a gasp next to me, but I can't be bothered to see what it is. Cam's lips are on mine, his tongue licking into my mouth, and I'm fucking floating.

Why have we never done this before? Fuck, we've been missing out. I could come from this alone.

The hands that had been frozen at my side find their way to his waist, and I cling to him to keep myself upright as I chase his tongue, suddenly ravenous for the taste of him.

Something akin to a roar rumbles between us, and while I'm ninety percent sure it came from him, I can't swear it didn't come from me since I have this near primal urge to claim my best friend's mouth. To fuse myself to him until I come or pass out, whichever happens first. I don't even care which, since it feels so good. So right.

Nah, fuck that. I want to come then pass out. Priorities.

No sooner does that thought cross my mind—accompanied by an involuntary little hip swivel—than a low, subtle whistle sounds next to us .

"Damn, when you two put on an act you go all in." Bennet's voice is just familiar enough to pierce the fog of lust between us. Cam tries to pull back, but I follow, nipping playfully at his bottom lip.

"She's not watching anymore." Cam's whisper is more like a growl that makes my dick jump behind my zipper. "You can stop."

"I'm not doing this for her," I say against his mouth.

"What for then?"

"For me." I lick the seam of his lips, coaxing them open so I can taste him again, my whole body going a little noodly as his flavor overwhelms my senses. But before I can get totally lost in him, we're interrupted. Again.

"Aww, fuck," Bennet groans. "I did hear you two fucking the other morning. I swear to God if I find you boning anywhere but your bedrooms, there'll be hell to pay."

"You didn't hear shit." I turn my head to face Bennet without moving from Cam's hold. "We were totally quiet."

"You weren't as loud as Liam and Cruz can get; I'll give you that. But you sure as shit weren't quiet."

"I screamed into a pillow. No way you heard that." I let my hand drop from Cam's waist so I can twist just enough that my dick isn't rubbing on his, but not enough to fully face Bennet and end up giving him an eyeful.

"People aren't the only things that make noise during sex." He rolls his eyes. "You need to invest in some WD40 before your next romp."

"Your bed is a little squeaky." I look into Cam's eyes for the first time since our lips met and am pleased to find they still seem a little lust drunk. It's a sexy look on him.

"That was over a week ago." Cam's eyes blink into focus as he seems to come back to the present. "You didn't say anything. "

"What would I say? Sounds like someone had a good morning? Is it a walk of shame when you only have to go across the hall?"

I snort-laugh at that since it's a good one.

"No, I mean you don't seem surprised we…you know," Cam clarifies.

"Sort of figured you two have been banging all along." Bennet lifts a flippant shoulder.

"I told you sitting on my lap all the time would make people think we're boyfriends." Cam shoots me a pointed look, which I ignore, same as always.

"First time, actually," I tell Bennet as I wink at Cam, and my belly makes this interesting little flutter when his cheeks start to flush.

"So, I'm living with two couples now?" Bennet glances between the two of us with resignation.

"We're uh—"

"Dicks will stay inside our pants outside the bedroom," I interrupt Cam and hold my hand up like I'm taking an oath. "Scouts honor."

"Were you just going to say you aren't dating?" Bennet asks Cam.

"We, uh… Fuck, if I know. There hasn't been a discussion about labels or anything..." His face just keeps getting redder, and its fucking adorable. "I mean, I don't think Jagger has one for himself much less for us, and then there's the whole coming out thing and…yeah. We maybe aren't to that point yet."

"Newsflash, bro. You kind of did just come out. In a big way. The entire bar saw it. There's probably video and everything," Bennet says.

"What?" Cam's eyes dart between me and Bennet. "Video of what? Us kissing?"

"That wasn't kissing, it was fucking with your mouths," Bennet snorts.

"Was it hot?" I ask .

"If you like that sort of thing." He shrugs.

"Kitcat, did you hear what he just said? How will a video of us affect your sponsors? Or your draft prospects? You might have to make a statement or something." My best friend goes from flushed to white as a sheet faster than the speed of light.

"Do you know who recorded it? Maybe they'll give me a copy and I'll post it with a comment that I kissed my best friend, and I liked it." I waggle my brows at Cam, hoping it'll loosen him up since he's clearly worried about me.

As usual.

I love that about him, although I feel a little bad about putting him in that position on a semi-regular basis. But as far as us kissing goes, I'm not concerned about this having any consequences. After all, Cruz is openly dating a guy and it hasn't cost him anything, so I'm sure the same will be true for me.

"Be serious, Kitcat," Cam implores with wide, round eyes. "Two guys kissing on video is different than just saying you're with a guy."

"Yeah, it's hotter. Besides, Cruz is with a guy, and it didn't affect him any."

"Cruz didn't have a massive social media following when his love life went public, and there wasn't any video evidence. Plus, he finished last season as the highest rated tight end in the country as a freshman. He'd have to get arrested or something for his draft stock to drop. You're a top receiver in our division, yeah, but you aren't that untouchable. This could still impact you, and not in a good way." He scrubs a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have tried to shut Anna down by kissing you."

"You totally should've cause it was fucking hot. Besides, I told you to. After you asked, no less. "

"What the fuck are you two talking about?" Bennet interrupts. "You guys didn't say a word to each other that whole time. You just started sucking face."

"It's an eyebrow thing." I wave a dismissive hand in Bennet's direction. "He asked, I said yes, and here we are. And we weren't sucking face, we were fucking with our mouths, you said so yourself. Seriously though, did you see who recorded it? I'd love a copy."

Bennet's eyes take a quick tour of the crowded room. "Some older dude. Dark hair, leather jacket. I don't think he's here anymore."

Cam grunts beside me, and I pat his chest to calm him down, feeling hundreds of eyes on my back as I do. "Easy, Camelot. You don't need to go confiscating phones. If the guy posts it, I'll tag myself in the video."

Let people talk, look, whatever. I give zero fucks what they think.

"Camelot?" Bennet rolls his eyes, and I do my best not to wince. "Now you're doing the nickname thing too? Are you sure last week was the first time you fucked?"

This is the first time in over a decade I've let anyone hear me call Cam that.

"The nickname isn't new, I just don't use it much," I tell Bennet. "And no, I'm not going to tell you where it comes from."

"No need, it's pretty self-explanatory," Bennet says.

"Told you." Cam smacks my bicep with the back of his hand, which I choose to ignore since A-we're in public and B-he's wrong.

Instead, I face Bennet. "You know what they say happens when you assume something?"

"What?"

"You make an ass out of you and me." I point my finger between the two of us to emphasize my point, but both he and Cam bark out a laugh, assuming I'm making a joke instead of a correction. Whatever.

"Why last week?" Bennet asks us .

"What?" Cam says.

Bennet pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, shaking his head slightly. "Jesus, swapping spit makes you two dense. Why was last week the first time you fucked?"

"Didn't think I liked dick before." I shrug.

"So, what? You wake up one day and decide to try one on for size?"

"He walked in on Liam and Cruz and got a glimpse of what the prostate can do," Cam explains.

"And?" Bennet turns his inquiring gaze to me.

"I may never go back to straight sex."

"It's that good, huh?" Bennet chews on his lip.

"You heard me say I screamed into a pillow, right? I've never screamed before. Moaning, groaning, maybe the occasional shout, but no screams. Tell him." I nod to Cam.

"He's never screamed into a pillow before," Cam confirms.

Bennet nods absently as he processes our words, then finishes his beer and sets his empty glass on the table. "Are we going to this party or what?"

The three of us make our way out of the bar. I'm half-tempted to take Cam's hand so people have another reason to give us curious stares, but I don't want him to stroke out with worry.

Turns out I don't need to hold his hand to fuel any rumors, since word of our make-out session hit the party before we walked in. Pretty much every set of eyes on the premises follows us as we walk through the front door.

"Why does everyone keep asking us how long you've been dating?" Cruz corners us when we get inside, leaning close enough that I can hear him over the music without shouting for the whole room to hear.

"You were playing gay chicken, weren't you?" Liam tries to give us an out, which is nice of him, but unnecessary .

"More like hookup chicken," Bennet chuckles at his own joke, "but it wasn't these two playing. It was Jagger and some girl he didn't want to sleep with again, so he told her he was dating Cam. Then he had to prove it."

"Did he?" Cruz asks.

Bennet just wears the same smirk I've got on.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Why not just tell her you aren't interested?" Liam asks.

"I mean I could've, but I figured the truth would be better." I shrug innocently, like spilling the secret had been my plan all along.

Cruz and Liam gape at me, then each other, then back to me, confirming that no one in that pairing should be disappointed in the blow job department.

"You are having way too much fun with this," Cam grunts.

"And you aren't having enough."

He leans his head toward my ear. "People are watching us to see what we're gonna do."

I feel the eyes, although that's nothing new. Well, the fear of looking away lest they miss some new development, but the fact people are looking at me isn't. That's been happening since I was a kid, I've just gotten so used to ignoring it I don't even notice the stares.

"What are we gonna do?" I give Cam my best, devious smile.

"Nothing. Not a damn thing until we get home."

"Why not?"

He puts his mouth right up next to my ear, his warm breath making me shiver as it ghosts over my skin. "Because what we're gonna do isn't something I want an audience for."

My throat bobs heavily as I swallow. "How soon can we leave?"