Chapter 18

We’re notthe only ones who seem to have gone through it this Thanksgiving.

When we arrive back at our shared house, it’s to an unexpected scene. Tyron’s dads and siblings are here. Their bags are packed and waiting by the door, and while everyone is full of smiley greetings, the fact that they’re here means something’s gone down.

I greet Tyron with a hug and a questioning gaze. In response, he shrugs. I suspect he’ll let us know what’s happened when he’s ready.

Helping put the pile of leftovers into the fridge and freezer, Tyron asks, “How was your Thanksgiving?”

The best ever. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I hold them back. Sammy and I plan to tell the whole house tonight when everyone’s home. I can keep myself contained until then.

“Yeah, good,” I offer. “I’m still stuffed. It was great to get away, but honestly, the thought of practice tomorrow is already making me regret the desserts.”

“It’s always hard to get back into it after a few days off. Coach is going to kick our asses,” he says, the words a little echoey since he’s rearranging the contents of the refrigerator.

It’s hard not to ask him why his family is here, but I don’t. He’s smiling, so I figure everything is okay.

Looking around, I spot Sammy laughing at something Tyron’s pops is saying. Warmth fills my chest. I’m loving his contentment. Our morning was obviously full-on. We talked, legit cried. But I think it was cathartic for everyone.

The drive back, just the two of us, was surprisingly quiet, but there wasn’t a lick of discomfort. We just held hands, Sammy driving and keeping to the speed limit while I fed us snacks even though we didn’t need them.

“Is he okay?”

Tyron’s question has me dragging my attention back to him. He’s on his knees, a mountain of containers around him, but his gaze is on Sammy. When I don’t answer immediately, he looks at me.

“Yeah.” There’s nothing more I can say, not right now. Sammy isn’t ready to tell them about Trevin. He may choose to never share that part of his life. Whatever he decides, I’ll support him.

“Good.” A single up-nod, and Tyron turns to organize the refrigerator. I attempt to help, but I’m sure I’m just getting in the way of his system.

It’s my cue to leave when the front door opens and Leon enters.

“Oh, wow, a full house.” He closes the door behind him. With Tiller living locally, it makes sense that he headed home to see his folks. “Good to see you all.” He shakes hands with Tyron’s parents, hugs Sammy, then heads my way when he spots me.

“Hey, Leon. Good trip home?” I ask.

“Yeah. It was good to head back.”

That’s a relief. He had plans for big conversations with his parents as well this Thanksgiving. I barely stifle a snort when Sammy’s suggestion about something being in the water drifts into my brain.

“That’s great.” I clap him on his back, happy his smile is genuine. “All good with Tiller?”

It was the big introduction, something I can now relate to.

For a moment he’s distracted as he eyes Tyron to see what he’s doing. “From Sammy’s folks?” When I nod, he answers, “Sweet. And yeah, Tiller’s awesome. Mom and Dad took everything in stride. A little confused. Thought my heart was going to explode a time or two, but it all worked out.”

As he talks, I wonder about my own parents. The idea is to call them later to check on plans next month. They’re flying this way for Christmas to spend some time with me around games, but I don’t think I can wait that long. They have a heap of vacation days stacked, so I’m hoping I can talk them into coming out even earlier.

If they don’t, I either wait it out or we do a video call. The latter I want to avoid.

“Done.” Tyron stands, and Leon and I move to his side to stare into the fridge.

“Sammy’s folks are the best at leftovers.” Leon nods in approval, and hell if a shot of pride doesn’t buzz around me. My in-laws are pretty awesome.

“Does anyone know what time Kieran’s heading over, or is he staying with Dean tonight?” I ask, trying to figure out tonight’s plan. It’s late afternoon, and the sun will soon be setting.

“Not sure,” Leon answers. “I’ve only received the texts in our group chat on Thanksgiving.”

As Tyron closes the door, I peer back to search for Sammy. I don’t need to look far. He’s still standing and talking with Tyron’s pops. Before I look away, he glances over, our gazes catching and holding.

There’s a slight upturn of his lips, and then I lose his eyes, but I gain his laughter. It’s just as satisfying.

“What time is your family heading out?” I ask Tyron. Since their bags are already at the door, I’m assuming soon.

“They’ve got a car booked. It should be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Now Sammy’s back with his car, you want me to drive them to the airport?” It seems right to ask, and I honestly don’t mind. Since Sammy drove us back, I definitely don’t want to say he’ll take them.

“No, man, that’s cool. You’ve already been on the road for a few hours. The last thing you want is to be heading to the airport.” Tyron claps me on the shoulder and passes me a beer. “Drink this, and it means you officially can’t.”

I snort as I accept the beer. “Thanks, Ty, but dropping them off for their flight’s no hardship.”

Tyron arches his brow at me before hollering, “Dad.”

His dad, who’s sitting at the table talking to Tyron’s younger brother, glances over. “Yeah?”

“Bentley’s offered to drive you to the airport.”

Tyron’s dad waves me off. “Nonsense, you just got back. That’s good of you to ask, though, Bentley.” His gaze drops to the beer in my hand. “You crack open that beer and rest up. Practice starts tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, sir, it does.”

His dad chuckles. “In that case, you best enjoy it. I can’t imagine Coach Maple is going to take it easy on you all. You’ve got some big games coming up.”

I lift my beer to him in thanks and open it. But rather than taking a swig, I head over to Sammy. Tyron’s pops leaves a few seconds before I reach him, leaving Sammy standing in the open kitchen doorway.

“Here.” I pass him the open beer when he looks up.

“Thanks.”

“Are you tired after the drive?”

At my question, his lips curl up. “Nah, I’m good.”

I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. But I can’t help looking out for him. It’s always been instinctive for me to have his back. And now, everything has changed. This need to take care of him is stronger than ever.

My text alert pings. As do each of ours.

Since Kieran’s the only person missing, it’s obviously from him.

Sammy’s already pulling his cell out. I shift so I can see his screen. Is it an excuse to get close to him? There’s no point denying it.

A stab of disappointment hits me when Kieran says he won’t be heading back tonight. He’ll see us at training bright and early.

Sammy angles his head so we can make eye contact. His frustration mirrors my own. We have a whole conversation without words.

Are we going to tell the rest of the guys tonight?

It doesn’t seem right.

We’ll wait. It doesn’t mean we can’t be stealthy and still stay together.

“Car’s here,” Tyron’s dad hollers, and the house gets moving.

We all join them outside, saying goodbye. The air’s cooled considerably in the hour we’ve been home. The sun’s just dipping over the houses. When Sammy shivers, I’m quick to tug him close from behind and wrap my arm around him.

Tyron catches the movement and my gaze. A chin lift later, his focus is back on the road and watching his family leave.

I still have no idea where Logan is, and honestly, it’s odd for him not to be here. These days, they’re always together—he and Tyron. They’re not quite as attached at the hip as me and Sammy, but in fairness, we’ve been at this a lot longer.

“It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.” Sammy shivers again.

He’s not wrong. The air is the coolest it’s been all fall and nips at my nose.

Tyron, always ready with a tidbit of historical knowledge, chimes in, “You know, that saying actually has roots dating back to the medieval era. Folks believed witches possessed cold, lifeless bodies. It’s the reason for the comparison.”

I grin while Sammy says, “Huh, medieval witches and their chilly anatomy, who knew?” He shivers again, and I rub his arms for warmth. “But seriously, this cold is no joke. I can feel my bones turning into icicles.”

Surprising me, Tyron chuckles rather than explaining how cold it would need to be for that to happen. “Drama queen much?”

Well, he’s not wrong. I snort and receive a gentle elbow jab for the trouble.

“Embrace the chill, Sammy. Think of it as an opportunity to wear all those cozy sweaters Bentley’s been hoarding.”

“Me? Don’t bring me into this.” Shit, I need to go hide the sweaters or else Sammy really will steal them all.

I pause. Hmm… Sammy wearing my clothes does have merit.

Sammy snorts, probably at where he suspects my thoughts have gone as well as at Tyron calling me out on my penchant for hoarding. I’m surprised neither of them is breaking into dragon jokes.

“Easy for you to say, Mr. ‘I’m wearing three layers under my jacket.’ I’m seriously contemplating building a blanket fort just to survive.”

Tyron’s eyes light up at Sammy’s taunt. “A blanket fort sounds fucking epic. We could make s’mores and tell ghost stories and stay up all night.”

“Just in time for Coach to run us into the ground at seven thirty,” Leon cuts in.

“Seven thirty?” Sammy sounds as disgusted as I feel. “I thought it was eight thirty.”

“Check your email. It was sent out a couple of hours ago,” Leon says.

“Urgh. Thanks for pissing in my Cheerios.”

A petulant Sammy is always fun. I squeeze him a little, wishing I could bury my face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder and inhale deeply.

In silent agreement, we head back inside, all going our separate ways to our rooms—except for Sammy and me. After Sammy dumps his bag in his bedroom, I lead him to mine.

The moment the door closes, I have him backed against the wall. Our mouths meet with a fierceness that’s kinda crazy, considering it hasn’t been that long since his mouth was on mine. But fuck, I’ve missed him. In the short hour we’ve been back, all I’ve wanted is to hold him close and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

With our tongues tangling, our lips brushing, we grind against each other. I’m hard enough to punch nails. Horny enough to not care one bit if anyone hears us from the other side of the door.

But that’s not what we agreed.

Slowing down, I whisper against his lips, “Get on the bed and undo your pants.” Feeling him on my tongue will help me get through the rest of the evening. As long as he’s in my arms tonight, it’ll tide me over till tomorrow.

There’s no need to ask twice. Not with Sammy.

His pants are below his ass before he’s next to my bed. I stalk toward him, my breath hitching when he kicks his shoes and jeans off, then strips completely naked. By the time he’s on the bed, I’m tearing at my clothes, my gaze latching on to the way he strokes himself.

“You’re so hot.” Gravel fills my words, earning me a satisfied smirk.

“You want a taste?”

Without answering, I’m on him, slamming my mouth against his. I kiss him eagerly, breathing him in as I snake my hand around his cock.

Sammy grunts into my mouth, and when I swipe the pearl of precum away, rubbing it into his skin and following with a long stroke, a deep moan bursts free from him. “Fuck yeah.”

I smile as I pull away, loving the way his eyes glaze over as he ruts into my hand.

It wouldn’t take long to get him off like this, but I want to drink him down. Want him to fuck my mouth until all I know is that I’m his.

With urgency guiding me, I make fast work kissing down his body and settling between his spread legs. When I peer up, this time I’m the one groaning. He’s so desperate to come—eyes wild, pupils blown, and panting heavily—it’s tempting to take my time.

Having him empty his load down my throat is more appealing, though.

I lick along his shaft, working my way around until I reach his balls. I suck one into my mouth, rolling my tongue around it.

Sammy’s whimper urges me on.

“That feels so good.” His groan is loud as I suck on his other ball.

I pull off with a satisfying pop. “Shh.” I grin as he shoots me the stink eye, and when I finally wrap my lips around the head of his cock, it’s hard not to laugh when he grabs hold of the pillow and presses it against his face.

Watching and feeling him come undone like this is the best thing ever. His limbs are tight, his cock hard and smooth in my mouth. I bob and suck, lick and swallow, drawing out his muffled moans.

The heaviness in my balls has me repositioning. Just a few drags of my cock across my sheets is all it will take.

“I’m gonna….”

I work faster, my hand joining in to jerk him off. We both need this after the intense day we’ve had. We need the closeness, the release, the giant escape after the turmoil of this morning and all the serious conversation afterward.

I dry hump the bed as tingling starts at the base of my spine. My cock swells as I dive back onto his cock. I fit him so far down my throat, my vision blurs from lack of oxygen. And I swallow.

“Nnghhh….” Spurts of his cum release into my throat, and I ease off, swallowing properly and inhaling through my nose. Another shot, and my vision whitens as I rub against the sheets, my whole body tensing as ecstasy, pure and fucking magnificent, zips its way through my body.

Only Sammy’s cock in my mouth stops me from calling out.

A shudder rakes through my limbs as I come down from the stratosphere, and I keep breathily heavily through my nose. I’m not ready to release him yet.

Gentle fingers comb through my hair. It’s time to pull away. I do so, and Sammy gasps. Goose bumps break out across his thighs, and I press a kiss to one and take a moment to rest my head and close my eyes.

“You alive, sweetheart?”

A smile tugs at me, just like every time he calls me that. “Yeah.” I don’t even wince at the scratch in my voice, too content.

“Five minutes and we need to show our faces.”

Is it bad that I hate that Sammy’s right? It’s probably worse that I’m resentful that our friends are expecting us downstairs, since we agreed to eat together.

“Kieran’s not even here.”

His chuckle shakes me around, so I snap my eyes open. “What?”

“Suck it up, buttercup. Well, if you can suck up anything else after the way you sucked out my soul.”

I smack at his leg and snort. “Asshole.”

“Nah, keep it up. I like you all petulant and needy.” He tugs on the strands of my hair, and I angle to look up at him. “Don’t ever change.”

Whatever sound a giant puddle of love makes, that’s exactly what’s ringing in my ears.

“But what we do need to change is the bedsheets, as no fucking way am I sleeping on cummy sheets tonight.”

And there he goes, keeping it real.

On Jell-O legs, we drag ourselves up and get to work on stripping my bed. The whole time, a goofy grin sits on my face. Legit sits there like it’s its own entity or something.

I don’t even mind that Sammy keeps smirking and rolling his eyes at me. How can I when I know he feels the exact same way?

Coach splitsus into two teams, and like the past couple of years, I’m in the starting five. As I step back onto the court, the exhaustion from our intense training session lingers, but I push it aside.

Coach can smell weakness from a mile away. If he notices any of us flagging, he’s likely to add time to our session.

Sammy’s a few feet ahead to my right. Sweat saturates his jersey. That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. It’s difficult not to track the bead of sweat that trickles down his temple and travels down his neck.

We’ve been stealing glances the whole session. Something I’ve absolutely done in the past, but now, watching him is a distraction I can’t resist.

We’re in position, and at the sound of the whistle, we’re moving.

Kieran, the powerhouse that he is, dominates the court. I’m determined to support him. I’m there and making sure he gets his hands on the ball whenever there’s a chance. Lifting him up and helping him prepare to go pro next year has become our whole team’s mission. Our household’s especially.

I spring into action, racing across the court when Leon takes possession. I’m there in a heartbeat, ready and open. The ball lands in my hands, and I quickly pass it to Sammy, setting the play in motion.

Kieran makes himself available, moving effortlessly down the court, but Davey tries to intercept his layup. It’s a quick move, impressive even.

Hell, maybe Coach really did do the right thing keeping him on. This is our last season. It’ll be good to know there’s some talent on the team when we move on.

But while Davey may be showing some skill, no way will I let him intercept. I block Davey, leaving Kieran free. Acting swiftly, he sinks a layup. I grin, Sammy whoops, and Tyron’s shouting at us to get our asses moving.

We don’t let up, keeping the pressure on, stealing the ball whenever we can. After three years together, I swear our communication is almost instinctual. Just a glance or a gesture, and we’re moving. Understanding.

Fuck, I’m going to miss these guys.

But not Sammy. Him I get to keep forever.

“Oof.” My face slams to the right as the ball makes contact with my left cheek.

The whistle blows, and Coach yells, “What the hell, Sandford! You’re standing there grinning like you’re already holding a damn trophy. Head in the game, and I’m sure your team will appreciate that you’ve earned them all an extra minute on the clock.”

Shit.

My whole team is gaping at me, their disbelief front and center. Except for Sammy. The fucker is vibrating with amusement.

“Sorry, Coach. On it,” I holler, sending a wince of apology to Kieran. Our captain’s staring at me like I’ve got two heads. I get it. I don’t get distracted. Ever. Sure, I can mess up like the best of them, but being caught unawares as I’m busy grinning and totally oblivious is so not my MO.

How the hell am I going to explain this one away?

For now, I focus on the ball and my team, working hard to ignore the way Sammy makes my heart race and just how impressive he is when on his game—even in training.

Fuck, I need to pay attention.

I get moving, making sure I’m where the ball is.

We play for another ten minutes before Coach stops us.

“Better.” He bobs his head, glances at his notes, and eyes the team. Classes don’t start until tomorrow, so in theory we can stick around longer. Not that he’s a tyrant.

But he does like to win. More than that, he expects us to be game-ready.

“When we take on the Buccaneers tomorrow evening, I expect you to be well rested. That means a good night’s sleep. We don’t have practice, but keep up your usual routines. Pumpkin pie seems to have made some of your feet a little leaden.”

He’s not wrong. I’m relieved Sammy and I went on a couple of runs while we were away. If we hadn’t, we’d be screwed.

“Sandford.”

My head snaps up to discover Coach’s gaze firmly on me. “Yes, Coach?”

“Put one on the clock.”

I know better than to grumble even though I’m exhausted. “Absolutely, Coach.” I stand from my squat and jog over to the beep clock. One minute on this thing isn’t too bad. What is a killer is that it’s only one, which means Coach wasn’t planning on making us run at the end of training.

It means this one’s on me.

With the clock set to a five-second countdown, I make my way to my teammates already standing at the line. No one grouses at me, and no one even subtly flips me off.

Sammy does throw me a wink, though.

I settle at his side, and two seconds later, the first beep sounds. We race to the line, all of us making it and turning before the first beep. With my pulse thundering in my ears, I draw in air through my nose, exhaling raggedly through my mouth. We’re on our fourth turn when the beep sounds barely a second after we turn.

What I don’t do is look at the clock.

My lungs burn as I pump my arms.

Get to the line. Get to the line.

Another beep, just as I touch it with my foot and turn.

Sweat blurs my vision, but I push on, not daring to swipe it away in case it burns precious seconds.

This time I barely make it, but I turn quickly, pushing myself hard. Three glorious beeps have me screeching to a halt and bending over, drawing in breath.

“Hydrate and shower.” It’s Assistant Coach Tiller this time.

There’s a collective groan of relief as we drag our feet to the locker room. Exhausted, I don’t speak. Neither does anyone else. We’re too busy chugging bottles of Gatorade.

The showers are already on with some of my teammates rinsing off by the time I’ve finished. Sammy’s still at my side. Hell, he barely took his eyes off me as I gulped down my drink.

“Thirty seconds longer and I would have thrown up.” He chuckles, swiping a hand towel over his face before he’s back to studying me. “You okay? A little distracted today?”

The asshole looks at me with a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile.

I flip him off, my lips twitching once before I contain my grin. “Go cool yourself off.”

He snorts, strips down, and takes his sweet time before wrapping a towel around his waist, leaving his ass on display for an indecent number of seconds.

What I don’t do is glance around to see if anyone is watching. It’s best to play ignorant.

As Sammy walks away, I strip and secure my own towel, pausing when Kieran says my name. Turning his way, I smile. “Yeah?”

There are only a couple of other people in the main changing area. Everyone else is taking a shower, which is absolutely where I need to be heading, as I stink.

Stepping closer, Kieran studies me, and I instantly go on alert.

Shit.

I should have known he would approach me. Truth is, me getting a ball in my face would usually put me at the center of Sammy’s attention, and I’d receive a whole heap of good-natured teasing. For obvious reasons, that didn’t happen.

Which, I see now, is likely suspicious as fuck. If Kieran had come home last night, we wouldn’t be in this position. Not that it’s his fault. I know that, but still….

“You good, man? I know I wasn’t back last night, so we didn’t get the chance to catch up.”

I’m nodding before he finishes speaking. “Yeah. Good. Fine.” Immediately, I stop myself from saying anything else. How I kept my shit together all the months Sammy and I were hooking up is beyond me. It seems since we got married, I’ve been spiraling.

At my stellar response, his eyebrows shoot high.

There’s only one thing for it. I huff out a breath and roll my eyes at myself. “Honestly, I’m good. That ball in my face was the wake-up call I needed.”

“Who’s throwing balls in your face?” A snicker follows, and I shoot my gaze to Sammy.

Why he’s here after he stepped away less than five minutes ago?—

“Hey, I’m just here, innocently getting my tweezers. You’re the ones talking about sucking balls.” Twinkling eyes stare at me, and fuck if my lips don’t twitch.

“Jesus, Sammy.” Kieran shakes his head. “I don’t even want to begin to figure out what goes on in that brain of yours.” Nothing but teasing affection laces his tone. Not that Kieran doesn’t appear baffled, as he totally does.

But this is my Sammy, and I completely understand him. And I absolutely know he headed out to rescue me.

“It’s probably safer that way.” A cheesy wink follows, and my heart flips over when his intense green gaze connects with mine. “Anyhow, losers, I wanna get out of here. You both stink, and I say that with nothing but affection and a petition from the campus board.”

When he turns on his heel and walks away, Kieran rubs his hand over his face before glancing over me. “You chose him as your friend.”

Best day of my life.“Yup. I imagine that decision will follow me around forever.” My gaze follows Sammy as he continues to walk away until I finally lose sight.

“Didn’t he want tweezers or something?” Kieran asks, taking a step away and toward the showers.

“Best not to question it.”

He snorts. “Truth.”

We go our separate ways to shower quickly. There’s an assignment at home I desperately need to put some effort into. It’s not just basketball that I need to focus on. Now more than ever, I’m determined to ace my final months at school.

If Sammy and I are ever going to be able to afford a place together, I need all the help I can get. My degree is the start of all that.