Chapter Thirteen

Justin

AND THE KISS was good, so good that Justin warred to keep his hands gripped on the round posts and not touch Ethan. It was unlike any kiss he'd ever experienced. His heart banged, his mind raced wildly with finally , finally , as Ethan's mouth became an everything in Justin's mind.

It was no easy task gluing his hands to the headboard. Not when Ethan's hands were on him, over his chest, his neck, and in his hair as their tongues tangled, both of them breathing hard and kissing even harder.

And he knew.

At that moment, with that one unbelievable never-ending kiss, Justin knew he'd made his decision. No one, nothing had ever compared to being with Ethan and kissing Ethan for the first time.

Justin was a willing goner.

And he was glad he'd made the decision before Ethan's hands pushed down his sleep shorts, and Ethan maneuvered himself lower and eased down his own. Justin held on tightly, trying to be quiet as Ethan stroked one hand over Justin and the other over himself. He'd positioned them both close to each other, straddling him.

"This is good," Ethan whispered. "So good, like this."

Justin could only stare as he rocked his hips up to meet Ethan's rhythm, matching him and biting his lip so as not to make any noise. Only a few other times had he been this hard, this turned on, and only with Ethan—the night he'd crossed the room hoping to kiss Ethan, four times now, in the shower, and once on the couch. Justin hadn't pressed for more, and this was so much more.

He'd been attracted to Holly; the sex had been undeniably great between them, but even she hadn't made Justin's body feel electrified. Ethan's single touch, a mere finger, sent gooseflesh and sparks igniting across Justin's skin. A lone breath from Ethan across his neck or chest, and it seemed as if every hair on his body stood at attention for him. If Ethan teased him, removing his touch for a moment, Justin would jerk in reaction, uncontrollably seeking out Ethan's attention. Justin's toes curled and flexed, his muscles tensing and relaxing, his entire body a live wire, the power source, only Ethan.

And as wonderful as it was, it was also slightly humiliating as he whisper-hissed to warn Ethan it was about to be over. But Ethan lost it first, and Justin turned his face into his arm, muffling himself as he followed right behind. What Ethan could do to him with just his hand, he didn't dare let his mind imagine past that to other possibilities. As quick on the draw as he was with Ethan, they might not ever get there.

Justin lay there, breathing hard as Ethan slid off the bed, and Justin released his grip, got up, and followed him. They cleaned up quietly in the bathroom, returned, assuming their sleep positions, and were quiet for a long time. This was it, and Justin wasn't fucking it up again. He'd come so close at the back of the Yukon earlier.

"I'm in love with you, Ethan," Justin whispered. "I think I have been since the night you brought my phone to me. Shit, maybe even before that."

"I am with you, too," Ethan whispered back. "We're going to figure out a way to make this work."

Justin squeezed him and nodded against him. "Deal." Then he asked, "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes."

"I never want to kiss anyone else, Ethan."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"I'm scared."

"You never have to be afraid again."

Justin waited as Ethan turned over. They kissed, slow and sweet. Ethan drew Justin's hand to Ethan's neck, lingering momentarily before sliding away and giving him permission to touch him. Justin felt the moment Ethan's body relaxed, and Justin scooted closer. Ethan's fingers were in Justin's hair as they made silent promises to each other. Justin pulled away, ending their kiss, and tugged Ethan in tight.

*

"YOU'RE SURE ABOUT this," Ethan said, and Justin nodded, with only his backpack as his carry-on. "And you don't want me to come? Telling your parents is a big deal."

"No, but you have things to handle, too," Justin said, reminding him about his therapist.

"I'll see you when you get back. I'd say good luck, but I'm worried."

"It'll go how it goes," Justin said and only hugged Ethan. Then, he got out of the car at the airport drop-off lane.

Justin thought about what he would tell his parents during his flight, his Uber ride home, and as he walked up the driveway to the front door. His dad came to the door, letting him in.

"I didn't think you were coming home until late July," he said and hugged him.

"Hey, Mom," Justin said and hugged her too. "What were you guys doing?"

"Watching TV in the den. You aren't staying long," she said, taking his only bag.

"Just here for a night," Justin said as his father's frown drew down. No, there wasn't much to hide from his father.

"What is it?" he asked.

"That obvious?" Justin sighed and motioned to the den. "Let's go sit down."

"You're worrying me, Justin," his mother said as they all moved into the room.

"Don't worry. I'm fine. I'm healthy," Justin said as his father powered off the TV and adjusted the lamps before sitting down next to his mom.

Justin shook his head. "I didn't imagine just walking in and doing it like this."

"Take your time," Nathan Halstead said, and Justin didn't miss that he took his mother's hand and held it.

"I still plan on entering the draft, but will only play for one, maybe two years. Enough to get my name out there, make some connections." Justin kept his eyes on the floor and coffee table. "I'm changing my major to business in the fall. Get a year of business classes under my belt so that when I leave school and leave the game, I can either find a job as a sports agent or maybe, eventually, open my own firm. That's the business side of things. The only hypothetical option I've been able to come up with for the other issue, the real issue, I've come home to talk to you both about."

Justin blew a breath, pulled off his cap, and scrubbed his hand through his hair as his eyes burned. "I had this dream, you know, since I was a kid…"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, but there was no stopping the tears. "I love football…" He looked up, and they were both teary-eyed as they nodded. "But I love someone else more and can't have both dreams. I can't have the person I love and play the sport I love because the world is fucked up. So that's the new plan. We wait it out. I play for two years, turn sports agent, and then we can be together." Justin wiped his face.

"I am terrified, telling you this. I know you love me, but I wanted to so if you ever heard it from anyone else, I'd know I did this the right way. I love Ethan—Ethan Andrews, my best friend at school." Justin lifted his gaze to his parents.

"Oh, thank God," Missy Halstead breathed out. She was off the couch and had her arms around him.

"Thank God, what?" Justin hugged her back as his father joined them.

"I thought you were going to say something horrible like you found out something was wrong, cancer or Jesus, I'm a shit for saying it, but that I was going to be a grandmother, and I'm not ready for that title yet." His mother shook her head and kissed his cheek. "We suspected it, honey. We talked about it after we met Ethan."

"Son," his father said, and Justin hugged him back just as hard. "Have you been beating yourself up over this?"

Justin could only nod as his dad hugged him harder.

"You're right, we do love you, we get it, and we aren't going anywhere," his dad said, the glance he gave his wife was one of relief.

"We've been worried about you," Missy said. "But, honey, we did know, well—we thought we knew. You were just so happy around him." She cupped his cheeks in her hands. "You're right. You do not hide it well. We'll think about this plan of yours. Dad?" She turned to Nathan.

He shook his head. "His parents?"

"They know. They're like you two, supportive. We're both really lucky. They've known about him since he was young. I've never, I mean, not until him. It's him; it's not— I don't even know how to explain it, put a label on it."

"And you don't have to," Missy said, and his father agreed.

"No one ever before him?" his dad asked.

Justin shook his head. "I dated girls, you know that. It wasn't until I met him freshman year in a composition class. Then I lost interest in anyone else, and it was just him." He laughed and looked at his mom. "He wrote this essay, and we had to leave our names off, and the instructor, she passed them all out anonymously. And we had to take the essay we were given and write our own analysis, edit it, and provide feedback."

"And you got his," she surmised, wiping her eyes, "And you fell in love with his words first before you knew whose they were."

Justin nodded.

"Oh, my sweet boy." She sighed. "What was it about?"

Justin shifted and retrieved his wallet. He took out the folded papers that had seen better days. It was the essay Ethan had written a few months before he was attacked. He handed it to her. "I carry it with me every day. I copied it. And then I found out who it belonged to."

She opened it and leaned back on the couch next to him, then searched around, and his father, laughing, got her glasses from the other side of the sofa, and handed them to her.

"Don't read it out loud, Mom," Justin said.

He watched as her eyes moved across the page. Justin pointed to the tissue box, and his dad reached over and moved it next to her. They waited for her, the literature teacher, to read it through, as one, then two tissues were plucked up. When she flipped the page, Justin held his breath. He knew what she was reading now. And then his mom lowered the two-page essay, pulled off her glasses, and just cried.

Justin wiped his own eyes and blew out a breath.

"I really hope he's an English major." She sniffed and nodded, passing the essay over to Nathan.

He began to read, and by the time he was finished, Justin felt they probably understood his feelings for someone who could write in a way that never left the reader. His father carefully folded the pages back as they were and handed them to Justin. He got up and headed into the kitchen.

"He needs a minute. Such a tough guy, your father," she whispered. She rested her head on Justin's shoulder, and they listened as the refrigerator door opened and closed and a beer top cracked open, and Justin knew his father would drink that beer in there before he rejoined them.

"All right," Nathan said, finally returning. "We know you can't be out in the NFL, and the media alone—getting found out—" He shook his head. "But you've got such talent, Justin. You've worked so hard. So, we start thinking differently about contracts, and hire a lawyer."

Justin's eyes widened.

"You heard me. We get legal advice, contract law. And we know our options and where we stand going in. There may be some clause or wording, I don't know, some protection for you. We look at teams that have already dealt with this and aren't assholes. Teams that support their players. We do our homework. Or, you go in it honest and upfront, but I think we know where that choice will lead."

Justin was quiet as he absorbed this new option.

His father nodded solemnly.

"I do want to play, but I also don't want to ask Ethan to hide. That's not fair. I mean, he's willing to lay low; we've already been doing that, but still, it draws suspicion from even my own teammates. But no , the poster boy for the NFL is not the option I'm going for. I'd rather see what we can find out legally and be honest with management." Justin shook his head. "I'm not telling every team I meet with."

"No," his dad said. "We're getting ahead of ourselves. We research, find out all the options, then sit down and figure out a plan. If none of it works, it's one or two years and the agent plan. Or you go back to school and finish your degree. But if there is any way you could play…"

"And not force Ethan to hide," Justin said adamantly.

"Honey, what does Ethan say?" his mom asked.

"He says it's impossible. His dad's a coach; you know that. He said all it takes is one overeager pap hiding in a bush with a long lens. One picture, and it's over."

His father frowned. "So we need to find out about no unplanned interviews, no unexpected media, and that's going to be a tough sell."

"We've talked this through and just don't see another way. Two years, then we're free. No one cares if their agent is gay."

"Pathetic," Missy muttered. "We are talking about marriage, eventually."

"Oh, yeah, no question," Justin said. "That's a done deal."

Missy hmm ed. "Does Ethan know that part of the plan?"

"Of course not, Mom. Come on," Justin chided.

His father smirked, but Justin could see he was already deep in his head, working through scenarios, constructing ideas and then tearing them down.

"We do our homework and figure out where you stand," his father finally said. He stood and stretched. "What time is your flight in the morning?"

"Not until nine."

They stayed up for a while, the three of them talking more about options and Ethan. When Justin was finally able to lie down in his room, he sent Ethan a text telling him it had gone well and that he'd be back tomorrow afternoon. Justin warmed as he tapped out the last three words and hit send.

*

JUSTIN ROLLED HIS eyes as Ethan whooped in the empty stands and Ethan's father's whistle rang out as Justin ran in a touchdown during their scrimmage. Practice with a high school team was insanely demanding, and Justin couldn't believe he'd forgotten the hell that was two-a-days. Granted, he was on the coaching staff for two months, but he ran with the guys, ran drills, and hit the turf right along with them. He'd return to his team even better than he'd left them.

The whistle blew again. Coach Andrews barked out orders to his men, and Justin grabbed his bag and headed to the stands.

"Ready?" he said, but Ethan was already coming down the steps and nodding that he was.

They'd been in this routine for two weeks. Justin sat and swapped his cleats for running shoes while Ethan stretched on the track. Coach picked up Justin's bag as he walked by, yelling at his players to hustle up and quit whining.

"Did he ever coach you as a kid?" Justin asked as Ethan stretched.

"Hell no. I mean, he has his funny things— five minutes and chop-chop , shit like that—but no, he never yelled at me like a coach. He was just my dad. And when he could make it to my hockey games, he wasn't ever one of those parents trying to coach from the bench."

"My dad definitely coached from the sideline," Justin said over the memory. "He wasn't the worst parent there though."

"Your dad was at every game, every practice?"

Justin knew the direction this was going. "Professional football has its drawbacks, Ethan. It sucks your dad couldn't always be there for hockey. If this happens, I won't always be able to be there either."

"No, I know. Maybe it just sucked more for a kid. I'll have things to keep me busy."

"And you'll get your degree and find a job you love."

"And you'll still come freeze your ass off at the rink?"

"Such tall orders." Justin sighed. "Now we need a beach house with an ice rink close by. Those two don't really go together, you know."

"No, hockey in the south is a tall order," Ethan said but gave Justin that damn look.

"Stop."

"Never."

They warmed up for the first mile home. From the high school to Ethan's parents, it was a solid five-mile run, and Ethan stepped up to the challenge as they took on the second mile at a faster pace. Justin admitted to himself this daily run had improved his running and his breathing as he began to train like Ethan, and he'd be better for it come game one. Sure, he was fast, but now, he was faster without feeling like his lungs were on fire or he was a fish out of water.

Bethany waved them to the back as she watered her flower bed. She shot them both with her hose as they headed to the outdoor shower by the pool to rinse off. Justin had dropped eight pounds in the time they'd started training together, but he was solid muscle, even with Bethany's three squares a day. And Ethan was so good, with high spirits and looking healthier than he ever had.

They'd had a first online meeting with his counselor and talked about ways Justin should and shouldn't help when Ethan had a panic attack or needed to feel in control. Justin was reading a book she had recommended about loving someone with trauma. And Coach and Bethany had pulled out a few books and given them to him, ones that had been referred to them about how they could best help their son recover.

Ethan plucked the book from Justin's hand and dropped it to the floor. He reached over and turned off the lamp.

"Okay, I want to try something," he whispered in the dark, tugging Justin over him.

"You sure?" Justin held his weight off him and pressed his lips to Ethan's.

"Yeah, I'll use my hands."

Justin leaned in a little more as Ethan gripped his sides and guided how much weight he could take. Justin kissed him, then stopped when Ethan's fingers tightened. Ethan's hands slid lower to his hips, and Justin eased his weight down until Ethan stopped him so he was touching but without his weight fully on him, and they kissed like that until Ethan began to relax.

Justin brushed against Ethan's neck and kissed him there and then up to his ear. When Ethan pushed down his shorts, Justin lifted to pull his own off. Ethan guided Justin back to where he was comfortable and then urged Justin to thrust with him as Ethan gripped them both.

"Ethan." Justin breathed his name like a prayer. And found his lips again, and they moved together.

"You okay?" Justin asked after, and Ethan nodded.

"I am. She talked to me in our private session about trust. And I realized I do trust you, and I trust you more than I'm willing to let fear consume me," Ethan said quietly. "You've never asked."

Justin swallowed hard. "I don't know that I can handle knowing." Justin held him. "There were rumors, and I want to believe they aren't true, but I looked it up. I know what they were charged with and convicted of. I know how much time they are serving. That's all I think I can handle, Ethan. If you feel like you need to tell me, I will listen. I'm here for you. But I'll never ask you to relive your trauma."

"You've been reading too many books."

Justin nodded, recognizing he'd just quoted a line from one. "It's true. And hey…" He ran his fingers through Ethan's hair. "I like that you were able to show me what you could handle and when to back off. It was clear. I got it. That works for me, but how did you feel about it?"

"Yeah, that worked. She suggested finding ways to use touch to control the situation without always having to be in complete control blah blah blah. But yeah, it's all about trust."

Justin shifted closer to Ethan's ear. "Trust that I want to try something new next time."

"What?" Ethan whispered back.

"Think about that and how we need to approach it, and let's talk about it when you're ready. Now, I have to get my ass up at 5:30, so shush and hands off all this ."

Ethan laughed, and Justin tugged him closer. "All this."

"It's all yours."

"All mine."