Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

TORIN

Have I said that I hate away games?

On a positive note, Hugo and I talk all the time. When he’s on the plane or bus or whatever, we’re texting. When he’s in his hotel room, we’re on a call. It’s definitely an improvement from pining in private with only my reflection (and Fish Hugo) to keep me company.

But, like right now, when Hugo is just checking into his hotel in Toronto where their next game is tomorrow… I have nothing to do but sit here and wait. I know I’m pathetic for making my entire world revolve around this one man. But at least it’s a little more justified now. He’s my boyfriend.

My. Boyfriend!

I recline my chair back as I watch my little guy on the screen interact with the anthropomorphic animal people in my Creature Community town while I trade for some flowers. I don’t know why, but my garden sucks at growing flowers. I can grow enough fruit to feed this town for a year. Flowers? Not a chance.

My phone finally rings and I eagerly grab it. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Hugo answers. I can hear the smile in his voice. I also hear the hotel room door shut behind him with a loud slam . “Just got here.”

“Yeah? Is the room nice?”

“Eh. It’s fine. Not the worst; not the best. ”

“You could be sleeping on the floor in an airport.”

“Yep. I’ll take this bed any day. What’re you doing?”

“Playing Creature Community.”

“Ah. I haven’t logged in since… well, ages. Do my people die if I don’t log in?”

Grinning, I shake my head. “No. Sometimes a lot of residents will leave your town because you abandoned it, but once you start playing again, they come back.”

There’s rustling on the other end. A minute later, I see the little notification telling me that Hugo’s logged in. I smile.

“You going to get dinner with the team?” I ask.

“Nah, I’ll get something delivered. I see them all day and I’d rather talk to you.”

The way my chest warms at his words has me closing my eyes. Reaching for my water, I take a sip. I have a mouth full of water when Hugo asks, “Can my character have sex with these animal people?”

Of course, I swallow down the wrong tube and immediately start choking. I have enough conscious thought to turn away from my computer so I don’t spray it and my keyboard with water as I cough it up.

“Torin? Are you okay?”

I nod, even knowing he can’t hear that while I continue trying to clear my airway. “Yes,” I choke. It’s several stressful seconds later before I’m able to take a few deep breaths without coughing. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay? What happened? What do you need? Should I call someone?”

A smile spreads across my face as I readjust in the chair again. “No, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting your question.”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know you were drinking.”

“It’s water,” I say, laughing. “And to answer your question, it’s not that kind of game. It was originally created for a younger crowd so, as you can imagine, sex is shameful therefore it’s not in these types of games.”

“Ah. That’s too bad. I’d like to see what my guy and that parrot person could breed.”

I laugh .

“Speaking of sex. Can I ask you a question?”

My cheeks heat, but for once, no one is going to be able to see me while I talk through a potentially embarrassing conversation. Not because sex is embarrassing. But because everything about me feels embarrassing. For no reason, most of the time. Just because I exist.

“Yes.”

“My dick doesn’t… freak you out?”

That’s not the question I was expecting. Not that I was anticipating something specific, but it wasn’t that. “No. Not at all.”

“Really? In my experience, ‘the bigger, the better’ is only applicable in theory. When one actually sees how big, it’s a different story.”

“I’m a size queen. I’d show you my biggest toy, but I think I might die from humiliation at admitting I use it.”

“Like… how do you use it?”

Grinning, I set my controller down and stare at the ceiling. “I’m a verse bottom. Do you know what that means?”

“No. I understand bottom and top, I think. Noah gets uncomfortable when I ask those kinds of questions, though he tries not to. I’m only asking to understand and I think he knows that, but he’s spent his life defending who he is and… yeah.”

“Okay, well. So it’s clear—a top is someone who does the penetrating. The bottom is the one who takes the penetration.”

“From the top and bottom?”

This man is too cute. “No. Position doesn’t actually matter. It’s about whose dick goes where. The person’s dick who goes into their partner’s ass is the top. The other, even if they’re physically sitting on top of the other guy, is the bottom. It’s all about the dick.”

“Ah. I didn’t realize that.”

Sweet, sweet man. “A verse or a switch—mostly the same thing, these days—means someone who does both. You can be strictly a top, or strictly a bottom, or verse. Someone that’s a verse bottom means they can and do participate in both, but that they prefer to bottom most of the time. It goes the other way, too—a verse top is someone who does both, but prefers to top.”

“What makes you decide which you want to do?”

I hum as I think about this. “I suppose the situation. As I said, I’m a size queen. If my hookup has lied about what he has, he doesn’t get my ass.”

“Does that happen?”

“Yes. The number of guys who lie about the size of their dicks when looking to hook up is astonishing to me. Like… how do you think we’re going to have sex without me seeing your dick? Then the jig is up. And if you lied to me about something so basic, you can’t possibly think I’m going to believe anything else you said. That dick isn’t going near my ass.”

Hugo laughs. “I love that. Not the lying part, but everything else.”

I smile.

“So… can I tell you something?”

“Yes.”

“Uh… I’ve never had sex before.”

My smile nearly splits my face. “I know. You already told me you’ve never touched a dick so I can’t imagine you’ve had sex with one either.”

Hugo takes a breath. “Yes. Right. But I mean… like, at all. Ever. With anyone.”

It takes me a minute to realize he’s talking about anyone . “Hugo, you brought women home with you every night.”

“Yes. I did,” he hedges. “But we always fooled around. Rarely were both of us undressed at the same time. I’m a master of foreplay.”

My eyebrows knit together. “Oh. I?—”

“I’m not waiting for marriage or anything like that. It’s just…” He exhales loudly. “I have two older siblings. My sister is three years older than me and my brother is five years older than me. When I was nine, my brother knocked up his girlfriend—at fourteen. That baby was around often, as you can imagine. Crying at all hours of the day and night. Throwing up. Shitting. You think a grown man can smell, they’ve got nothing on an infant.”

I snort.

“Then when I was twelve, my sister got knocked up by some guy at a school dance—and she was fifteen. My first niece was only there part-time. But my sister’s daughter? Every. Single. Day. Three years later when I turned fifteen, my mother asked me—‘you’re not going to get anyone pregnant, are you?’ Trust me when I tell you, I’d already been scarred for life.”

“That wasn’t fair of her to put that on you,” I say.

“Meh, I get it. Three kids. The first two did it. Why wouldn’t I follow in their footsteps?”

“Because you’re not them, Hugo, and she shouldn’t treat you as if you are.”

He sighs. “She didn’t. But those sleepless nights and messes and stench… they’ve stuck with me and I’ve been absolutely terrified of getting some random girl pregnant. My sister insists to this day that her baby daddy had been wearing a condom. She’d put it on him. So the fact the condom failed only freaks me out even more, and I don’t want to end up in that situation.”

“I understand.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I love my nieces. And the nieces and nephews who have come after them. But to this day, my greatest fear is having a sudden pregnancy and being stuck with a baby who doesn’t stop crying and making messes everywhere.”

“Does that mean you don’t see yourself with kids later?”

“No,” he practically shouts and I can hear the horror in his voice. “Absolutely not!”

I laugh. “I have good news for you. I can’t get pregnant.”

Hugo burst into laughter and my smile climbs. “I appreciate that reassurance.”

“Not that I’m saying we need to have sex. I’m just throwing it out there. There is no concern with pregnancy here.”

He’s still chuckling when he asks, “Do you? Want kids, I mean.”

“I don’t know. I guess we’re all taught that having a good life means having a wife and kids and house and successful career. Already, I’m not going to have one of those things. And my career is kind of debatable whether or not it’s even a respected career path, according to my parents.”

“That’s shitty.”

“They try to understand, but they don’t have anxiety so they don’t get it. The Golden Tides is the only company that has made such concessions to make me comfortable and allowed me enough hours to live. There are all these government protections against certain classes and whatever, but mental health? Not so much. Sure, you can’t officially discriminate against mental health, but there’s always the argument that if someone can’t perform the duties they were hired for, then they aren’t the employee the company is going to keep. There will be a reason to let them go.”

“I… Wow.”

“Yeah, it’s a struggle. But the man who hired me at Golden Tides—he either has anxiety or someone he loves suffers from anxiety so he understood. It was he who created a position above and beyond Surry the Seal for me. I’m really thankful he’s still here in some capacity because he never forgets me and we have meetings and modify my position with new responsibilities and compensation and stuff, even though he’s technically moved up. The new management of my position is very considerate too.”

“What’s his name?”

“Albert Reiss. Do you know him?”

Hugo doesn’t answer for a minute. “No. I don’t think he does anything with the players.”

“I’m not sure. He might be on the admin side of the company.”

“I’m glad there’s someone there who understands.”

“Me too. It’s made all the difference in the world.”

We’re quiet for a minute before Hugo says, “I’ve never really given that much thought—what the world thinks about as having a successful life. I don’t think I like anything on that list except the career thing, but I think that’s happenstance. I just happen to have enough talent to be successful in this career.”

“You also own a house. You’ve definitely got the professional and financial success that society dictates is important.”

“Yes, I have a house; but that’s only because I look at the rental market all the time and it costs me less for this mortgage than it would to rent a house half this size. Plus, if I sell at the right time, I can also make some money back. It’s responsible financial investing.”

I can’t fathom how this man thinks he’s dumb. He’s definitely not. At all.

“Does that mean you don’t want to be married?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Hugo admits. “I mean… I look at my friends who are married and they’re so damn happy. They love their spouses. I can actually see it. I’ve learned a lot about love and relationships fr om them and I’ve never felt anything even remotely close to how they obviously feel. We don’t talk about feelings and shit, or their relationships, but I can see it . And I always couldn’t help but think… that’s just not in the cards for me. I never felt that way about anyone. Until I started hanging out with you, I didn’t even want to be around the same person for more than a few hours—my friends excluded. You’re just… different.”

My heart feels like it’s trying to beat through pudding. “You feel differently about me?”

“Yes. Very. I miss you, and I’ve never missed anyone. Torin, I want to see you every single day. I want to wake up next to you.”

Now I’m trying to breathe with pudding in my lungs. “Me too,” I whisper.

“Anyway. I don’t know about marriage.”

“Can I ask… why did you hook up so much if you weren’t looking for something more?”

Hugo huffs. “It was fun? I could? I don’t have an answer that would satisfy anyone. I just did. When I was first drafted, it was the fact that I could . The girls wanted me. They were there all the time, willing. There was just something… alluring about that. After a while, that’s what was expected of me. I’m the himbo playboy who always wears sweats without underwear and has a massive dick. That’s what the girls got to brag about. They hooked up with Hugo Bladen. Do you know, not once have any of them tried to get in contact with me again? Sure, they want me to call them when they leave, but not once has any of them asked me anything of substance.”

“I believe that,” I say. “You’re a celebrity. It’s so rare that you meet a celebrity who doesn’t find a partner from within their own community. Not like, athlete to athlete, but celebrity status to celebrity status. Like director or journalist. Something that’s not a barista or a mailman. You know?”

“Yes!” Hugo exclaims. “While I always kind of scoffed because pretty or rich people are always drawn to those just like them, I get it to some degree now. If they already have their own fame and fortune, then yours isn’t their top priority. They’re more likely to look at you instead of the cameras flashing around you.”

“It’s not a hard and fast rule, but it’s definitely common enough that it feels like a rule. ”

Hugo sighs. “Do you want to get married one day?”

“Yes. I don’t know about kids. I could go either way, I think. It’s not something I’ve longed for or anything, but sometimes I think it might be nice to have one or two. Then again, I also like my quiet, peaceful life. But I definitely want to be married.”

He hums. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess a part of me wants the world to know I’m loved. That someone chose me over everyone else to share their life with. I want to know that the commitment is serious.”

“I guess maybe I don’t understand the point of marriage. I don’t need to pay someone and drop twenty-grand on a single day just to prove I love someone above all else. A single piece of paper naming us legally wed doesn’t affect how I feel for that person. Then again, since I never truly thought I would meet someone I want to see a second time, maybe my opinion is skewed.”

“Maybe it’s a little skewed,” I agree, “but I can also see your point in all of that. Instead of spending $20,000 on a day, you could use that money to create lots of memories together. Trips and adventures and stuff.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. If it’s a piece of paper you want to prove I love you, I can print one for you. Or if you want to make sure all our friends and family see how in love we are, we can throw a party and… make toasts and stuff. I guess it all just feels material to me. Superficial. None of that is what love is supposed to be about. Once again, just as I said, my opinion is probably very skewed.”

I laugh. “I like your opinion more and more.”

Hugo sighs. “I wish you were here. I want to cuddle.”

My chest tightens. Fuck away games. Fuck them even more that we’re only in the middle of a nine-day stretch!