18. Colt

Colt

I watch my sister embrace her son and can't help but smile. She's a really great mother. There's no doubt about it. But she's exhausted. Just got to my house after a ten hour-shift at the diner, but she's smiling so big as she clings to Christian, who's thrilled to see her too.

She's nothing like our mother was, but there's still that fear that creeps in—the fear that maybe if she gets too tired, she might morph into our mom. That's not fair to her, I know that, but I can't seem to push it away.

"Was he good?" she asks, snuggling him to her chest as she takes a seat on my couch in the living room.

"Of course he was," I say, sitting down next to her.

She gives me a knowing grin because yeah, Christian can already be a handful. He's learning to sit up and fusses when he can't reach things he has his eyes on. Loves to eat constantly and doesn't like when I leave the room. But as far as I'm concerned, the kid is perfect.

It's also not such a bad thing that when I look into his blue eyes, I happen to see the guy who's quickly becoming one of my favorite people in them. I know I'm grinning far too big, just thinking about Dallas.

My Dallas.

Jesus, I'm in deep. I haven't thought about much else all week. I've been in a great mood today because it's Saturday, and he'll be here tonight. I can't wait.

"Uh-oh. Who are they?"

Shit. I internally curse myself because I'm such an asshole. I tell Chloe everything. Even though I left when I was eighteen, I still managed to call and text her as much as possible and would always tell her everything going on in my life.

But I can't tell her this because... I've crossed a major line. One that would hurt her if I told her. One I have to tell her and probably soon, but I can't out Dallas, and... yeah, I'm afraid of the way she's going to react.

She might hate me.

She'd have every right to hate me.

Not only did I go behind her back to get to know the father of her child—I'm falling for him. Hard.

She's never going to forgive me for this.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out, and she immediately looks startled and then concerned.

"For what?"

I should just tell her. Tell her you didn't mean for it to happen. She'll understand you were just looking out for her. But then did you have to kiss him? Did you have to do so much more...

Shit!

I can't do it. I chicken out, but then I do manage to apologize for something else. Something I should have done a long time ago. "For leaving."

She frowns. "What do you mean? When? Like now?"

"No." I shake my head. "When I was eighteen. I'm so damn sorry I left you behind, Chlo."

And I am. At the time, I didn't really think about it. I just packed my shit and got the hell out of here, but I missed her every day. I tried to talk to her as often as I could, but it was selfish. And when she called me to tell me about Christian, I realized how badly I'd fucked up.

Thinking about my sister so alone and drunk, falling into Dallas's arms—a complete stranger—looking for anything that might resemble love. I knew then how badly I'd hurt her when I left.

"Don't do that, Colt," she says sternly, and Christian seems to pick up on it because he starts to fuss a little. She stands up, bouncing him expertly in her arms and settling him almost immediately as she refocuses on me. "You checked in on me every single day. Pretty much drove me insane." She smiles. "But you didn't leave me."

"I left town," I argue.

She sighs and sits back down. "And I know why you needed to do that. It wasn't easy being in a town like this for you. I'm happy you got out. And it all worked out the way it was supposed to." She gives Christian an affectionate smile, and my heart warms because I know she can't imagine life without him. I can't either.

"I'm still sorry I left like I did. And I should have at least visited more."

She puts a hand on my shoulder and pats it. "I'm not your responsibility. I know you think I am."

"You're my sister," I cut in, and she just drops her hand to cradle her son even closer, then stands up.

"And you're my brother, but you don't have to take care of me. I know you've always wanted to, and you did. But you don't have to."

I frown, and she only laughs, grabbing the diaper bag sitting by the door and draping it over her shoulder.

"And don't think for a second I forgot about that giddy little grin on your face when you were thinking about someone."

I might actually be blushing. Damn it. "It's not a big deal." Lies. Total lies, and that's when I should just tell her. It'll be okay. Just. Tell. Her.

She just rolls her eyes at me and shakes her head, and I know she's going to let me off the hook for now. "Thank you for watching him today. I have tomorrow off, and Zach is watching him Monday. But are you free Tuesday?"

I tell her I am, and we make plans to meet before I give her a hug and Christian a kiss on the head. They take off, and I sit around and wait for Dallas to show up. I'm glad I at least apologized to my sister for one thing, but hating that I didn't just go ahead and rip the bandage off—telling her about Dallas.

Because I don't want to hide him away, but I also really don't want to hurt her.

By the time Dallas arrives, I'm close to climbing the walls, waiting for him. I don't remember the last time—if ever—I've felt this way. Chloe was right, he makes me downright giddy.

That's a way I've never described myself before, but it's for sure what I feel when I tear open the door and practically jerk Dallas through the doorway and pull him into my arms.

I don't wait to get my lips on him again, and thankfully, he doesn't miss a beat. His mouth is all over mine, his tongue breaking through the seam of my lips, and I moan loudly around it.

He tastes sweet, like maybe he had a soda or something before he got here. I know we should stop and maybe talk for a bit or eat dinner or something, but I can't bring myself to pull away from him.

"Missed you," he gasps against my mouth as he goes for the hem of my t-shirt, lifting it up. I raise my arms and let him remove my shirt as we make our way past the living room.

I want him in my bed. We can talk later.

We can eat later.

But now, I need him. Desperately.

I lift his shirt up and off. And I love that he doesn't seem even a little bit hesitant. His hands move to my jeans, flicking open the top button, just as I push open the door to my bedroom. "I told Benny about us."

He says it just as I start to kiss down his well-muscled torso and push his back against my bedroom wall. "Oh yeah? How did that go?"

"Good," he says as I lower down to my knees in front of him, my hands running over his chest and stomach. His skin is warm, and I can feel the muscles in his abs flexing with each breath. "He was totally fine with me being gay."

I can't help but smile and be a little sad at the same time. I'm glad Benny is a good friend to him, but the fact that Dallas had to be worried at all really sucks. "Good," I say as I flick open the button on his jeans and lower the zipper, being careful around the impressive bulge of his hard cock.

"He doesn't fully trust you though." I look up at him when he says that, his eyes shining down on me—full of lust and something else I can't quite place. "But I do."

"Thank fuck," I say, realizing I was a little nervous there for a second, and he smiles, running his fingers through my hair affectionately. That's what I saw in his eyes.

Affection.

Jesus Christ, I'm so far gone for this guy.

I pull his jeans down along with his briefs, not able to wait even a little longer to taste him. He kicks them away with his foot, leaving him naked and trusting with me at his feet.

His hand remains in my hair as I study his mouthwatering cock. It's hard as steel, flushed red and leaking at the tip, standing tall against his abs. "So damn perfect," I say before wrapping my hand around the base and sucking the tip into my mouth.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," he gasps, his hips thrusting forward, and I have no doubt it wasn't on purpose, but I'm here for it. I get his tip nice and wet, sucking on it and tasting each burst of delicious pre-cum.

"So fucking good," I manage as I slowly start to stroke him as I tongue his slit, moaning from the salty taste of him.

"Holy shit. I'm not going to last. It's so good." His hand tightens in my hair, making my scalp tingle and my balls tighten with need.

I release him from my hand, reaching around and cupping his firm ass with both hands, letting his cock sink further into my mouth. I relax my throat and take it all in, the cockhead hitting the back of my throat and making me gag, but I don't let him pull off.

I show him I want it, moving his hips forward and back, teaching him to fuck my mouth by controlling his ass. His fingers tighten even more, and I fucking love it. I'm humping the air as my balls beg for release with every glorious moan that leaves him.

"Colt, I'm going to..." He hits the back of my throat again, and I swear I nearly come in my pants. It's so damn hot, hearing him let loose like this. "I'm going to come," he shouts just as his release splashes into my mouth. I do my best to swallow it all, but some slips out of my lips as he thrusts on his own volition into my mouth over and over again, draining every last drop. I suck and lick on his cock until he's wrung dry and slips from my mouth.

He tugs me up by my arm and immediately crashes his mouth against mine. If he's worried about tasting his own cum, he doesn't show it because he's feasting on my mouth as he undoes my jeans the rest of the way and shoves his hand into my boxer briefs.

I cry out into his mouth the moment he wraps his big hand around my shaft and strokes. It takes an embarrassingly few amount of strokes before I'm shouting into our kiss and coming all over his hands, my briefs, and my jeans.

The orgasm is intense as I ride the wave, his hand stroking me through it as his tongue massages mine. Our kiss starts to slow as we get control of our ragged breaths, and I leave little kisses all over his mouth, his cheeks, and his nose.

"Hi," I say with a smile.

"Hi," he returns. "I really missed you this week." His voice goes quiet, and he looks down between our sated bodies and then back at me, his eyes glistening with tears. "I never knew it could be like this. I never knew I could feel like this."

I swallow hard, looking into his eyes as I brush my hand over his cheek, wiping away the tear that falls. "I'm so damn glad we met," I say honestly, even if we're avoiding the how we met.

"Me too," he whispers. "I never thought I could have anything like this. I never let myself even dream of it."

My heart cracks yet again. I'm not sure how many pieces it's broken into at this point. It's not fair that he ever had to feel that way. That he couldn't even let himself want something with another man. I want to say so many things. I want to make it better, but I'm not sure how, so I press my lips against his and hope like hell he can feel it. "I missed you too. Shower?"

He nods his head, and I step back only long enough to finish stripping before we head into the bathroom for what ends up being a long shower where we both jack each other off, coming again in near unison. We climb out and get dressed before heading back to the living room.

"What do you want for dinner?" I ask, and it's all so very normal. Very domestic. I could really get used to this, which may be the scariest damn thought I've ever had.

"Something we can make together?" he asks, and it's so damn cute and hopeful, I have to give him another kiss before we make our way into the kitchen. We settle on an easy pasta dish that we enjoy at my kitchen table before heading back into the living room to watch something—I'm not even sure what he turns on because I'm too busy watching him—on TV, and he lies with his head in my lap on the couch.

I stroke his hair, looking at the profile of his beautiful face while he watches the screen. "I got the coach fired because I wanted something like this."

It takes me a moment to register his words, but I don't stop stroking his soft hair. "What happened?"

He doesn't feel too tense, so I feel like it's okay to ask him, but I won't push him either, if he doesn't want to talk about it. "Coach Leighton talked me into playing football." He shakes his head that's still resting in my lap, and I can see that he's smiling. "I was so shy, but I loved the game, and I was pretty good at it." I have no doubt because I've seen him play. "For the first time in my life, I felt like I fit in, and the team was decent to me at that time. Not really sure about me because I was new, but I was good, so they accepted me."

I can feel something bad coming, and I hate it for him already, but I stay silent.

"I knew I was only attracted to guys, even though I tried to ignore it. I wanted this." He starts to fiddle with a loose string on the knee of my jeans. "I wanted a boyfriend." He stiffens and then looks up at me with wide eyes like he said something wrong. "Not that I think you're my boyfriend or anything. I just meant that I wanted..."

"Breathe," I say, and zi move my hand from his hair to his hand, lacing our fingers together. "I'd be honored to have you as my boyfriend, but I don't need a label either." I squeeze his hand, and he lets out the breath I told him to take.

I smile when he relaxes and holds onto my hand. "I snuck on a computer at school after hours and found this club." I tense up a little bit now because even not knowing what happened, I'm terrified for him. A young, good-looking kid at a night club. "It was an hour away from here, so I took a bus."

"Jesus, Dallas," I can't help but scold him a little, and he flinches, but he keeps going.

"I know. But I was desperate. I just wanted to see what it was like. Men together without any worries or shame." I stay silent because I get that. Man, do I get that. We just don't have many openly out couples around here, and when we do, they have to be careful. It's sickening but true. "I saw Coach there."

"At the gay club?"

He nods. "He was so mad at me." He says it fondly, so I don't think anything particularly bad happened with this coach, but I'm still on high alert as I listen. "He took me home and made me promise never to go back there. He said it was dangerous."

"It was." I can't keep that part to myself, and he rolls his eyes at me, but he's smiling too.

"I know. I promised him I wouldn't, but I wanted to see it all again. It was like this new addiction. I only snuck back there a couple of times and only saw Coach twice, but I did something really stupid."

I feel sick with fear now. "What happened?"

He shakes his head, and I hear him sniff. I don't want him to be upset, but at this point, I need to know. "I took some pictures at the club, and Coach was in a couple of them."

"Of what?"

"Just guys dancing," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to be a creeper, but it was all just so beautiful. They were free, Colt." He sits up, his shiny eyes looking directly into mine. "They were happy. I..."

He sobs, and I can't resist pulling him into me, wrapping my arms around him. "It's okay. That's not bad. I understand."

He sniffs again and shakes his head but doesn't pull out of my arms. "My mom found the pictures." My entire body goes rigid. "She got him fired. She said he was a disgusting pervert and that he seduced me. But nothing happened. I swear. Nothing. He's a good man. He was my friend."

I hold him tight to me, feeling all the things he must have been feeling. I know he was so damn scared and not just for himself, but for the only adult who seemed to actually be there for him. "It's okay," I try to soothe him.

He just shakes his head over and over and cries harder. "It's not. He lost his job because of me. He was labeled disgusting, hateful things because of me."

"No," I say firmly and reach to cup his face in my hands as I force him to look at me. "That was the school and your parents. Not you."

He starts to shake his head, but I hold onto him. "Colt." He is so defeated, so broken and sad. "They told me I had to fix myself. That there was something wrong with me."

Rage like I've never felt before starts to boil inside. "There is nothing wrong with you."

He sniffs, and more tears fall. "They were going to send me to this..."—I might actually puke because I guess it before he says the words—"this camp to change me."

"Fuck," I let out, and he winces. "Sorry." I quickly recover. "They didn't?" Please tell me they didn't do that to my sweet, perfect, amazing man.

He shakes his head, and I feel tremendous relief. "No. I promised them it wouldn't happen again. That I'd behave." And now I feel sick again. Jesus Christ, no wonder he was so afraid.

"I'm so damn sorry, Dallas." I kiss his lips and feel wet tears sliding down his face. "So sorry."

"No, don't be sorry for me. Don't you see? I fuck up. I hurt people."

I shake my head and continue to hold onto him, my own tears threatening to fall. "No. You were a kid. You were scared to death and repressed. Told that you were wrong for simply being you. Fuck all of them, Dallas. They don't deserve you, but you..." I pull back enough to look into his eyes. "You are good."

He lets out a small cry at that and more tears fall, but he pulls me into him and hugs me tight. "Thank you."

I shake my head and hold him. "Nothing to thank me for. I'm so sorry that happened to you. And to your coach, but it wasn't your fault."

The things he's been through... God, they're truly brutal. I can't even imagine. Every single part of me wants to wrap him up and keep him safe, to get him far away from this damn place, but I'm not so sure he's ready to go.

I know he still feels guilt deep inside, and that shit doesn't go away easily. After a while, we settle into watching mindless television on the couch, his head back in my lap as we fall into a comfortable bliss.

"Colt?" I'm slightly worried he has something else traumatic to share with me, but I want to know it all, even if it hurts.

"Yeah?"

"Homecoming is next week."

I grin and move my hand to his hair, stroking through the strands. "Oh yeah?"

"You should come."

That's shocking as all hell to me, especially how he acted when he found out I was mistakenly at his football game last time. "What?" I ask half amused and a little concerned.

He sits up, and I can see his eyes are still red and puffy from crying, but he looks bright and hopeful. "You should. I like the idea of you being in the stands. I love football, even if the guys blame me—and so do I—for Coach Leighton leaving. But I do love the game."

I smile softly at him. "I know. I can tell you do. You're damn good."

The pride on his face is enough to make my chest burst with happiness. "I am, aren't I?"

I fucking love this side of him. The part I knew was there but he tried to hide. Lurking under the surface under so much pain. "You are." I lean forward and kiss him. "You really want me to go to a football game?"

He chuckles at that, knowing I don't care for the sport. "Yup. But you can't wear Kensley colors."

I bark out a laugh and pull him into my side. "Jesus, I must really like you." Understatement of the century.

"I was thinking that maybe if you come to the game on Friday... well, since it's homecoming..." I'm not really sure where he's going with this, so I just sit and listen. "There'll be a lot of parties and stuff, so maybe I could tell my parents I'm staying with Benny."

I think I might actually growl when he mentions staying the night with his friend, but he just eyes me curiously before he keeps going.

"But I could follow you here instead? Maybe stay the night with you? And the next day?" All the sentences come out as questions, and I'm already doing a happy dance in my head at the thought of him staying here with me in my bed.

Holy fuck, do I want that.

But I'm too quiet, and he looks visibly upset as he shifts in his seat next to me. "Oh shit. I'm coming on way too strong, aren't I? That's way too much." He starts to get up off the couch, and I reach out for him, holding him there next to me.

"No."

"No?" he asks, startled.

"No. You're not coming on too strong. That's not possible." Doesn't he know just how hard I've fallen for him? How badly I crave him?

Hell, I'd ask him to move in right now if I thought he would.

"Are you sure?" He bites on his bottom lip nervously, and I can't help but smile.

"You're way too fucking cute," I say as I pull him into me and press a kiss to his full lips. "Yes, I want that. I want that so damn bad, I can barely stand it." I smile against his lips when I feel him smiling too. "I want it so damn bad, I'm going to a football game just for you," I tease, and he laughs, pressing a hard kiss to my mouth and wrapping his arms around my neck.

"It won't be so bad."

"It'll be worth it," I say with a smile and kiss him again, laying him back on the couch, and he moves pliantly beneath me, his arms around my neck and holding onto me tight.

"I can't wait."

I can't either. A whole night and day with my Dallas.