3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The texting shouldn't have become a thing.

But it became a thing.

Morning, Jon sent a week or so later, I wish I could hook this coffee up to my veins with an IV.

They didn't text every day, but when they did, it often went on for hours. Talking about everything and, also, nothing at all. Kieran had friends, friends he genuinely liked—even with his shit working hours—but he'd never had a friend he'd connected to so quickly and so easily. And never like this, with just words.

He'd kept hoping Jon would come into the bar again. But he hadn't.

Kieran was torn about this. On one hand, it was disappointing, because he wanted to know if they had this same easy camaraderie in person. On the other, it was actually a huge fucking relief, because what if they did, and what if it was more—but only for Kieran—all the while he knew Jon couldn't possibly like him that way.

How would the NFL feel about you talking so cavalierly about drug use? he texted back as he lay in bed, sunlight streaming over the coverlet.

That'll have to be our little secret.

Kieran told himself firmly that he shouldn't like that they had those, now. Even if Jon meant it half-jokingly.

But he really, really liked it.

Liked it enough his cock was already half-hard, both because of his just-awakened state and also because it was hard to help it when he was thinking about Jon.

About his forearms, rippling with muscle. His honey brown eyes. The way he'd smiled.

The undeniably fit body his khakis and polo shirts hid.

Kieran had tried very hard not to think about him in sexual terms. They were friends , and Jon had made it clear where he stood, from the beginning. But there was also the matter of how undeniably flirty some of their exchanges got. And how long of a dry spell Kieran was currently in. Both those made it tough to fantasize about anyone else.

Maybe Jon didn't mean for his messages to come across that way. Kieran had sure tried not to take them that way, but it was becoming more and more challenging to stop himself from jerking off while thinking about Coach Kelley in some very explicit terms.

It's been way too fucking long since you got laid.

Then there was that ugly truth.

But even if Kieran wanted to pick someone up, now, there was no way he'd ever be satisfied with that kind of hookup.

An even uglier truth.

What do you think of Landry Banks?

Kieran told himself he was secretly glad Jon had changed the subject.

Shouldn't you be telling ME what YOU think of Landry Banks?

I already know what I think of him. I want to know what you think.

Kieran considered what he knew of Landry Banks, tight end for the Buffalo Bills. He typed the first thing that came to mind, screw the consequences. He blamed the arousal still persistently fizzing through his system, the kind of arousal no amount of ugly truths seemed to kill.

I think he's hot. Good football player, too.

I see your priorities. That your type, then? Big and muscley and built like Thor?

Kieran wanted to tell Jon that no , his type most recently had been running to fit, flirty football coaches, but there was no way that wouldn't scare him off.

And damnit, he liked the guy too much to do that, now. Even if it would make everything easier.

Not usually, no. Jealous?

Kieran told himself he shouldn't have gone there. But he was attracted, damnit.

A little, actually. Have you seen that guy? Anyone would want to look like that.

Kieran let out an unsteady breath when Jon's response came in. Easy, breezy, with no hint that Kieran's words had made him uncomfortable.

Right?

He did consider adding more. Something along the lines of, you've got nothing to worry about, trust me , but he didn't. He manfully resisted and was proud of himself.

So you think he's a good guy, yeah?

Kieran realized then what Jon was really worried about: if Landry Banks was a good guy.

You'd know better than me. I'm sure you've actually met him. I haven't. Not yet anyway. So tell me, do YOU think Landry Banks is a good guy?

Yeah. Yeah, I do.

Then you gotta trust your instincts. You've got good ones.

You think so?

And that was the easiest question in the world, which probably should have made Kieran more worried than it did. Yeah, he said. I really do.

Then, because it was true, he added: Well, I gotta get up and supervise the cleaning crew at the bar post-Disco Night. Guess you missed all the Donna Summer again.

He hadn't been really pushing for Jon to show up, but well . . .maybe he had, a little. How could he stop himself?

Guess I did. Too bad. Tell me, what's the worst thing the cleaning crew's found at the bar?

Kieran laughed as he pushed himself out of bed, groaning a little. He was still hard, and trying to pretend he didn't know the reason why.

Trust me, you don't want to know.

I asked, didn't I?

It was true, he had asked.

Well, you can't say I didn't warn you first. It was a diaper. A FULL diaper.

Ew. I thought it was going to be a used condom, or something like that.

Kieran laughed out loud. A used condom? Oh my sweet summer child, those are a regular occurrence. Thus, why I have the cleaning crew.

Just for post-Disco Night?

That's usually the wild night, other than the weekends of course.

Kieran popped into the bathroom, peed, brushed his teeth and flipped the shower water on to heat up. When he was out of the shower, there was a reply from Jon.

Are any of your nights NOT wild?

Kieran considered this. Wednesdays, he said. He did wonder why Jon asked, but when he only sent back a thumbs-up, Kieran wasn't sure what to think. Was he just curious? Or making a deeper point about how busy and popular the Pirate's Booty had gotten? Which . . .Jon didn't need to. Kieran was very familiar with the rise in popularity his bar was experiencing. Or, the best possibility, which was that Jon wanted to come in on a night when Kieran wasn't too busy to hang out with him?

A few hours later, he was just finishing up the prep for the evening, shoving containers of sliced limes and lemons into the fridge under the counter, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Good news, Jon said, guess who's a Condor as of today?

Kieran smiled. That good guy AKA Thor.

LOL. Yep. Feeling solid about this one.

You should be, it's a great signing. He's gonna fit right in.

Maybe not in the old locker room, but the new one we're building? Yeah, I think so. I thought so this morning, too, but had a momentary freakout.

Are head coaches supposed to have momentary freakouts?

Shhhh. That's gonna be another one of our little secrets.

Kieran told himself again he wasn't thrilled from the top of his head to the bottom of his sneakers that he and Jon had secrets they shared now—but he knew he was lying.

Someday I'm gonna have enough to get you here on Disco Night dressed up like Donna Summer , he teased.

Someday.

Kieran's pulse accelerated even as he told it, very firmly, to decelerate. That hadn't been a promise. Jon had just been teasing, the same way Kieran had been teasing him. That was all.

Next time you show up, I'm gonna know what you're drinking, he texted, without really thinking about it. Because surely that had to be true. Surely the next time—and there had to be a next time, right?—that Jon showed up at the bar, Kieran would look at him and know exactly what he should be drinking. His superpower could hardly fail him now, not when he was beginning to know the guy this well.

Except, he'd totally forgotten that he'd never told Jon about it.

You will? *puzzled emoji*

Uh, well, yeah, that's kind of a thing, actually. A superpower thing. MY superpower. Like yours is coaching really great and ferreting out the good guys from the bad.

And it's what exactly? Knowing what a person wants to drink? Like you're a booze psychic?

Uh, not quite like that. More like, people order shit they really don't want, to impress people, or to pretend like they're a different person than they really are. I know what they should be drinking. What, deep down, they really want to drink.

Kieran knew the question was coming the moment he pressed send.

So what should I have had to drink the first time we met? I remember you poured me a beer. A really good beer, actually.

He seriously considered lying—something he didn't want to do, not at all—and telling Jon that yes, that was exactly what he should have been drinking. That the beer he'd poured him had been the one identified by his superpower.

But he'd hardly forgotten, and how could he forget, that when Jon had appeared at the bar that afternoon, his superpower had refused to cooperate for the first time ever.

Well. No, actually. Funny thing, when you showed up my superpower kind of went on hiatus.

Kieran winced as he sent the text. Hoping that Jon wouldn't take offense.

What you're saying then is that my general awesomeness overpowered even your SUPERpower?

Ugh. Yes. Sort of.

We're gonna have to try a do-over, Jon replied. Soon.

Leaving Kieran half-hard again , even though he didn't know what on earth that was supposed to accomplish. He told his cock to stop dreaming, but it wouldn't.

It knew what he wanted, even if his superpower didn't.

How was it going to react when Jon actually showed ?

And why wouldn't he just tell him when he'd do it? Why leave him in anxious suspense? Prolonging his yearning?

Stupid , Kieran told himself. He doesn't even know you want to see him. He probably just thinks it's no big deal and he'll stop by whenever he has time.

Sure, Kieran texted back, playing right along with what he was convinced Jon was doing. Just making it a casual friends-bro thing. That was all.