Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

HANSLEY

I ’m beginning to wonder if I even know the word no. I should have said it no less than a hundred times, but optimistic me thought that maybe Lemon wanted to clear the air. That’s why he intercepted me this morning.

There is nothing in this world that could have made me think he’d want to suck my dick.

I can’t even fathom why I let this happen. If for no other reason than I’m married. Where was Jessica in my mind over the last twenty minutes?! Why wasn’t the knowledge that I have a wife whom I love very much enough to make this not happen?

And yet, the thing that’s bothering me the most right this second isn’t that I just cheated on my wife. I mean, more than kissing. I feel like kissing might be forgiven a little, uh, easier? Maybe that’s wishful thinking. But what’s truly bothering me is the fact that, once again, he just did the equivalent of run away after.

This time, he kicked me out. Without meeting my eyes. I have to wonder if he’s going through some shit. Maybe that’s why he’s so… mean.

For a minute, I linger just outside his door. I really want to go back in and demand that we talk about this. Sure, I should be using my voice or even just pushing him away to prevent it from happening, but I’m convinced that perhaps the reason I keep letting it is because I’m so startled by the sudden change that I become tongue tied.

And… it feels good.

Not an excuse. I know that.

There’s no mistaking the weird energy I feel in his presence. I’m on alert. Ready. Hot, like I’m wearing far too many layers. There’s a part of me that wants him, just as he wants me. But I don’t understand why. I’ve never been attracted to a guy before, but maybe it’s because none have shown interest before.

Or maybe it’s just Lemon.

Glancing at Lemon’s door, I force myself away and down the hall. I’m not sure he’s even moved. There wasn’t any sound from behind his door. Then again, my blood is rushing loudly in my ears, there’s a chance I just didn’t hear anything.

Down the hall is a bathroom and I slip inside to stare at myself in the mirror over the sink. Yes, I look like I just got my dick sucked. Taking a deep breath, I hold it until my lungs burn before letting it out slowly.

Then I wash my hands and run them through my hair to make sure it doesn’t look like I was just fucked. My clothes are rumpled and… is that a cum stain? I groan.

Voices outside the door have me slipping into a stall. I don’t want to talk to or face anyone right now. I feel awful.

Not for the reason I should— I just cheated on my wife! Instead, I feel horrible because of literally everything else, each thing having to do with Lemon. Is he just fucking with me right now? Is his goal to mess with my head so much that I can’t be here anymore? He’s made every effort in his actions and words, to assure I know how much he hates me.

So why does he keep kissing me? And why this? It’s the whys that are going to drive me crazy.

Then there are the other ones, like why I keep letting this happen. Is it just because it’s new? I’ve never touched another man before. No kissing. No groping. Definitely no dick sucking, giving or receiving. And Jesus fuck when he put our cockheads together inside my foreskin? What the hell was that?

The memory makes me shiver. My cock twitches. I’m going to feel like I need to wash for the rest of the day, but how the hell am I going to explain having my dick out over the sink as I clean it? The image alone makes me chuckle.

Sighing, I leave the stall and stand over the sink once more, cleaning my hands again, though this time I don’t really have a reason to. There’s no warning when the door opens so I don’t have time to hide before Declan steps inside.

He smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I answer and turn back to the water as he moves to the urinal.

“Get lost on your way to your office?” Declan asks.

I snort. “Something like that.”

He finishes up and joins me at the sink. I can feel his eyes on me in the mirror, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m sure if I met his eyes, he’d see in mine what just happened.

“You okay?” Declan asks.

Trying not to take another deep breath, I nod. That’s always a tell that someone is not okay. My eyes flicker to his and I offer him a smile before moving away from the sink and finally drying my hands. Picking up my bag and helmet again, I pull the door open.

Declan follows me out and we walk in silence. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks again.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

He nods. It’s not difficult to figure out that he doesn’t believe me. Not that I blame him. I don’t even believe me. We step outside and Declan pauses, clearly going in a different direction. “Whatever’s bothering you, I’m happy to listen. I may not be the best at advice, but I also know someone who is.”

“Who’s that?” I ask, out of curiosity.

“Stommer. We don’t call him Daddy Quin for nothing.”

I laugh. “Daddy Quin?”

He smirks, but also rolls his eyes. “Yep. Trust me when I tell you it’s a well-earned name. He takes care of all of us, whether we realize it or want it.”

While he’s trying to look put out, I can also hear the fondness in his voice. Declan claps my shoulder. “Zarek’s pretty good too.”

“Ah,” I say, remembering what he said about their household. He’s with Zarek, but they live with Declan’s twin, the twin’s boyfriend, Quin, and Quin’s boyfriend. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He smiles and waves me off as he walks in the opposite direction from the arena. I watch him go for a minute before turning. I glance at the athletic building briefly before putting my head down and hurrying to my office. If I had a tail, it’d be between my legs.

There’s a bag on my door that I spot from down the hall. When I reach it, I pull it from the handle and let myself in. Once I set my things down, I open the bag to find a note.

Hi, Coach!

I’m sorry I missed you. I didn’t want to be late for class, so I’m leaving this behind and I’ll stop by later today.

Here’s a jersey of mine that you can wear to show that you support a student athlete. I hope it fits. I took a guess since I didn’t think to ask for your shirt size.

Thank you again!

Carly

I grin as I take it from the bag and shake it out. Pulling my shirt over my head, thankful for a reason to get the cum stain off me, I put on Carly’s jersey instead. With a grin still firmly in place, I head for the bathroom to take a look.

I’m not sure I’ve ever worn a jersey from another sport. It’s strange not having long sleeves. but I don’t hate this at all. The front has a dragon, the back has THOMPSON and her number 71. The colors are black, gray, white, and purple. Honestly, it’s probably one of the coolest jerseys I’ve seen.

I’ve always wondered where teams come up with their names, logos, and colors. I mean, there’s the Buffalo Skidmoss and their logo is a hockey puck with green sludge dripping off. Who thought that was a good idea? Who went walking in a swamp, saw goop, and said, hey, this would make a great team logo!

No one can even say what a skidmoss is! I’m confident that it’s made up and at this point, I think it’s a gimmick that they keep. Now and then, their official page on ShareIt will show their hashtag growth for #WhatIsASkidmoss. They’re in the millions.

Not going to lie, I’ve looked it up too.

“Aww, Coach!” I hear as I step out of the bathroom. Turning, I find Leo looking at me with a harassed look. “Are you really wearing a lacrosse jersey?”

I chuckle. “Seems to me like those girls are resourceful and reaching out to coaches of other teams,” I answer, giving him a pointed look.

Leo sighs dramatically. “Fine. I’m pretty sure that counts as cheating on us, though.”

I know he says it teasingly, but it makes me flinch. Just the single word. Cheating.

“No one would know I’m sponsoring a student if I wore one of your jerseys,” I counter, trying to cover up the slip. “They’d just think I’m showing favoritism.”

Leo rolls his eyes. “I guess.”

“Get to the gym.”

He grins and turns to head back down the hall as I return to my office, ignoring the way my heart races. Cheating. I’m a cheater now.

The worst part is I can’t convince myself that I’ll be able to push Lemon away if he approaches me again. Does that mean I like it? Is it just curiosity or an experimentation thing? Maybe it has something to do with Lemon himself? The fact he’s so hostile and yet, he still wants to mess around with me.

What am I even saying?!

I don’t understand what’s going on with me!

Shaking my head, I drop back into my chair and turn on my computer. It loads and I just stare at it. Even when it pulls up the login screen, I just stare. Unable to bring myself to do anything.

Maybe I need to turn off for a while. Stop thinking.

Getting up, I shut my office door and change into a set of gym clothes. Grabbing a bottle of water, I head for the hockey gym.

There are three different gyms on campus. One in the hockey arena, one in the athletic department—which is much bigger than the one here in the arena. And the third is in the campus commons for the entire campus to use. I’m not sure anyone would kick a non-athletic student out of one of our gyms, but there you have it.

Leo’s here, as I suspected he’d be, and so are two other players. I join Hakeem at the treadmills. He grins when I step up to the one next to him.

“Heya, Coach,” he says.

I incline my head. “Hakeem. Good to see you.”

We run in silence for a few minutes before Hakeem asks, “How do you feel about teammates dating?” He pauses. “Or just fucking around?”

“You’re not required to disclose who you’re in bed with, Hakeem,” I say.

He laughs and shakes his head. “No. But some teams have a ‘no fornication with teammates’ policy.”

I think about this for a minute. “I’m not sure I’ve read if we have one.”

Hakeem grins. “Usually, it’s the coach’s call. Our coach before you didn’t care, but I’m not sure he cared about much. However, I’d like to know whether you care or not.”

“Ah. I suppose I don’t as long as there’s no drama, and it doesn’t affect your game or the team,” I tell him.

He’s pleased with this.

“Who—? Nope. Never mind. I’m not sure I’m allowed to ask about your personal life.”

His laughter is loud. “I will volunteer that I’m interested in Seth.”

I raise a brow. “Doesn’t he have two boyfriends and a girlfriend already?”

“Yes,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But not because he’s polyamorous. It’s because he’s shit at telling someone he’s no longer interested, so instead of having the hard conversations, he hides out under his net until they complain that he’s never around and they think they should see other people.”

“He waits for them to break up with him?” I ask before I can stop myself.

With a wide smile, Hakeem nods. “Coward,” he mutters, but I can tell he’s teasing.

“I see,” I say.

Hakeem continues to tell me about Seth’s partners and then other teammates. I protest that maybe they don’t want their personal lives shared, but he just waves me off, telling me that if I were here when there were more of them, I’d hear it all, anyway. They don’t care who’s listening. We’re family.

For some reason, that makes my chest warm. My teams always felt like family. I’m really glad that my students feel like that too.

I spend the next few hours listening to Hakeem, then Leo, and then Damari and Braxton. By the time I leave the gym, I feel a little lighter. Maybe I’m having my mid-life crisis a little early, but at least I don’t have the kind of drama that these kids do. Although, I suppose it’s not drama. Most of it was gossip.

However, a cloud hangs over me throughout the day. It gets bigger and darker. When it’s time for me to leave, I text Jessica and tell her I’m working late. But instead of going home, I head back into the gym.

I remain on campus until it gets dark, and I have to admit that I’ve been here far too long. But I still can’t bring myself to go home. I can’t face Jessica, knowing that I’ve just had my dick down someone else’s throat.

Chills raise gooseflesh along my arms as I imagine telling my wife what happened today. Would she be angry? No, probably not. That’s not Jessica. She’d be hurt. Devastated. That’s who she is as a person. Kind, soft, sweet.

And I hurt her.

When I finally get home, the house is dark. As I’d hoped it would be so I could prolong seeing my wife. I head into the kitchen and find a note on the counter.

There’s dinner in the fridge. Orange lid. I hope your day wasn’t horrible.

I love you.

I wince and hang my head. More than anything, I wish I could convince myself that this would never happen again. I won’t let Lemon—or anyone else, for that matter—touch me. I won’t kiss another person.

The thing is, I’m not good at lying. Not even to myself. I would love to say I’m strong enough to push him away, but… there’s something about Lemon Frost that might make me unable to say no.

It’s almost painful knowing that it will happen again and yet, the way my gut churns in anticipation?

I’m an awful person.