Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

Owen

" I t might be better to break my ankle than go through with this." I sit between the bed and the wall, forehead on my knees.

"You were on fire last night. You're in the finals after coming into the tourney not expected to place top three!" Colin strolls over to lie naked on the bed.

I glance over at him, and my cock stirs. "I'm trying to have an existential crisis here and you do that?"

"Do what?" he asks smirking, knowing exactly what.

I trail my fingers over his arm. "You've already swallowed my cock this morning."

"And?"

"Greedy."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He pushes to all fours, giving me a view under him, and he's hard.

"Incredible," I say, but his antics are helping.

"I see that smile." He brushes his fingers over my lips.

I lean forward to nip at the tips. "Hang your head over the edge of the bed."

"What for?" He drops back to his stomach, inching forward, his chin is at the edge. "Like this?"

"You know what I mean."

"Are you going to fuck my throat?" Colin rolls over, tipping his head back, extending his throat.

I'm pushing to my feet, hand on my cock when our door flies open.

Oliver waltzes in like he owns the place. Colin quickly rolls over, laying on his stomach all casual like we weren't just about to fuck.

"How the fuck did you get a key?" I ask, channeling my spiked heart rate into what sounds like anger.

"I'm you, peasants can't tell us apart, and I keep a copy of your driver's license on me." Oliver says it like anyone would do such a thing. We were identical, except for the way we carried ourselves and dressed. No one who knew us would confuse the two, but it's not surprising complete strangers couldn't tell the difference. A guy with a black card who looks vaguely like the picture here you go. "Why is he naked?" Oliver asks, as if he just noticed Colin in the room.

"Because this is my room?" Colin wiggles his ass, and I try not to laugh, but fail.

Oliver wrinkles his nose. "I could have gone my whole life without seeing your asshole."

"I feel the same, but you wear yours on your sleeve." Colin glances over his shoulder with a grin, and I keep laughing.

Oliver rolls his eyes. "You have warm up. Are you okay?"

"I will be." I press my eyes closed, pushing the match out of my mind.

"You don't look fine." Oliver's shoe moves over the marble, getting closer. "Did you take your meds?"

"I gave him his pills."

"I had an alarm set. I would have taken them. I've been great about it!"

"Love is making you take care of your mental health." Colin army crawls over to the edge of the bed. "We care about you."

"Maybe love me less." I smile at him, not serious.

"You don't tell Oliver to love you less."

"No one tells Oliver anything." I open my eyes, flicking them over at my brother. "And even if they did, he wouldn't listen." I shoot my brother a grin. "The more he likes you, the worse he gets. He's just mean when he doesn't like you, but if he loves you, he's really mean."

Oliver's mouth forms a line. "It's for your own good."

"How many times have I heard that?" I extend my hand.

Oliver takes it, helping me up. "As many as you need to, and you'll like it."

I give him a hug. "Look at how hard your love is."

Colin grumbles. "You could love me harder…"

"What was that?" I ask with a knowing smirk.

"He means with your dick," Oliver says.

"That's not what marriage is about." I meet Colin's eyes, barely holding back my laugh. "Dick isn't fixing anything."

Colin shakes his head, clearly catching onto my joke. "You mean I'm not getting the magic dick to fix me?"

"My dick didn't get us here, husband." I give a little laugh, but hopefully not enough to give myself away to my brother. I knew he'd find out eventually, but right now it's only mine.

Oliver pretends to gag. "Maybe not your dick…" He lightly slaps my cheek, winking at Colin. "His innocence never gets old, does it?"

Colin's eyes snap to Oliver's.

I'm not sure what I'm missing. I'd have to ask Colin later.

"I need to get dressed." I look at Oliver.

He glances at Colin. "He can stay, but I can't."

"We are married, and he sees me naked all the time."

Oliver gasps, which is shocking. I rarely catch him by surprise. "Why?"

"We live together." The warmth in the center of my chest from the secret. I've never had something that was just between someone else and me, and I like it. I want to keep it to myself a little longer. It feels special.

Colin stands up and puts his hands on his hips. "And we're married." His grin made the warmth in my chest bloom even brighter.

"Gods." Oliver lifts his hand to block Colin. "I'll meet you at the arena." He leaves without ceremony, and I'm sure I'll hear about it later, but right now I have other pressing needs.

I turn on Colin.

"Too much?" he asks. "I'm sorry."

I cross the room without a word, wrapping my hand around his throat. "No apologizing." I rub my thumb over his artery.

"Are you mad?" Colin asks, lifting a brow.

I drag my teeth over my lip and shake my head. "Not at all. Do you know how hot that was?"

A grin curls over Colin's mouth. "Was it?"

"Unbelievably so." I press my hips into his. "Look how hard you made me, princess."

Colin purrs. "Like keeping a secret from Oliver?"

"No." I shake my head. "I like having something that's all mine."

Colin searches my face like he doesn't quite believe me.

"I've shared everything, and more so than even that, I've lived in Oliver's shadow my whole life. He's always been the golden child, and I'm the spare." I exhale in a rush of words I've never said to anyone except my therapist. "And don't misunderstand me. I don't want to be my father's favorite. I don't want to take over the family business. I want to be left alone, but that doesn't mean…" I trail off. I don't know what it means. I don't know what I want.

Colin cups my face with one hand, rubbing his thumb over my cheek, but he doesn't speak.

"Does that bother you?"

"Finish what you were saying," Colin says, not giving away how he's feeling. "But that doesn't mean?" he prompts.

"But that doesn't mean I'm ashamed of you, or won't tell him eventually we are—" I'm not sure what we are. "I'm not keeping you a secret. I'm enjoying you to myself." I move my hand to the side of his neck and bring my lips to his. "Does that bother you?"

He doesn't answer right away.

"I'll tell him right now, if you want."

"No." His words are short. "It's nice having something over Oliver." He puts on a smile, but it doesn't feel genuine.

"You're not being honest with me," I press it, because I can't handle us not being good. Between the public relationship and training, and the stress, things going to shit with Colin would send me over the edge.

"I'm getting used to all the aspects of our relationship." Colin wraps his arms around my neck, and I give over to his hug, pressing him into the wall. "It's not your fault. We've both been going through a lot."

"I like where we are." I can't handle him pulling back.

He hugs me tighter. "I do too. I promise. But now you need to get dressed because you can't be late for your match."

"I want you on your knees first," I growl into his ear.

"You're going to be late." He rocks against me, shamelessly. "Too bad we don't have time."

I nip at his jaw. "How fast can you make me come?"

"Not fast enough for your coach…" He arches, pressing his hard on into me. "You have to go."

I groan, shoving off the wall and releasing him. "Fine. But we are talking about this later."

Colin adjusts his cock, meeting my eyes. "Promises, promises. You better win."

"I'm going to win, and then you're not allowed clothes for the rest of the night." I pull off my shirt to torture him as much as he is me.

"The rest of the night?" He grips his cock, but his voice gets coy. "Why?"

"Because I'm sure I'm going to need to mark your pretty ass, and look at it while I use your mouth over and over."

I take the line for my match. I'm up against a French guy who's ranked top fifteen in the world. No one expected me to make it this far. Not this early into my being on the team. I love being underestimated. I found a strange joy in it. I've always been the one who wasn't Oliver, so I'm frequently thought to be nicer, weaker, less aggressive. And compared to him, I am, but I'm determined to carve out this space for myself and show everyone how wrong they are.

We take our positions on the line and are asked if we are ready.

"En garde," the ref calls.

I advance off the line, a calm coming over me I only find in a match. Nothing else in the world matters when I'm on the strip. The French fighter does not move, letting me come to him. A strange strategy, but normal for him. I'd gone over and over every match of his for the last day.

He springs forward when I get close, but I'm ready for it, landing the first point with an easy thrust. He usually saves that move for much later in a match, which tells me he's underestimated me.

Glee spikes through my bloodstream, and it's better than nearly anything else. Better than sex—but I realize that's not true.

My head spins as we return to the line.

I like sex. What does that mean? How had I not realized before we'd left? Or the first two days of the tourney.

The ref calls for us to go again, but I'm paralyzed inside my head.

The crowd screams, and I force sex out of my head. I've prepared too much for this to blow it all because I'm having a crisis over my sexuality.

I blow out a breath and come off the line just in time to meet his attack. I parry and throw his blade to the side with the force. He throws himself forward angrily, barely brushing me with his blade.

Fuck.

We reset, and I glance at the clock. This time we both leap off the line, and he gets another touch, getting the point.

I suck in air through my teeth. My footwork is fucked. I'm too heavy on my feet. He comes at me, and I repost, catching him with a flick of my wrist.

He dives forward, nearly into the split, reacting with his tip. I suck in, barely getting out of the way of his point. Side stepping with a deflect, I get the touch before he can recover.

It gives me the right of way to make up the point. He throws himself at me as soon as we come off the line. I parry and try to repost, but he gets a dirty touch, glancing off my side, so light I didn't even feel it.

I pull off my helmet as we reposition, wiping the sweat from my brow. I close my eyes, refocusing, evening out my breathing. This time I don't come off the line, letting him come to me. I use his move, and jump forward into a lunge when he gets close enough, getting the touch.

We go back-and-forth trading touches and points. He goes up two points, then three. His next touch wins. I cannot let him have it without scoring at least two more points. I get my first touch and then a point, but he takes the right of way, and I have to get it back before he can score. We collide, sabres hitting, and I spin my blade around his, flicking my wrist to knock his blade out of the way to drive in for the touch.

He growls through his teeth.

Angry.

Good.

Right where I want him.

I come off the line quickly, needing to capitalize on it. I get another point, leaving me only one behind. I throw myself at him, more aggressively than I normally fight, and he retreats, blocking blow after blow after blow, but I get another touch and the point, making us even.

Sudden death.

My world focuses in, and I go after him, only the point mattering. He charges, and I dodge, parry another hit and barely drive my tip under his arm, catching a glancing blow off his arm pit.

I won! I can't believe it, but before I can enjoy it, he throws his helmet down, asking for a review, stalling my victory.

I take a few breaths, readying myself to have the point overturned. It doesn't matter. I can get another. We wait on bated breath as the refs huddle around a tiny screen. They whisper back and forth and then come over to make their announcement.

The point stands.

I won.

I WON.

I can't breathe. My coach and teammates are hugging me, jumping up and down. It's not like it's a huge thing, but the way the other guys on the team are so happy for me, feels like I finally fit in.

Colin appears, and the smile on his face kills me. I grab him and drag him to me, kissing him hard before I even realize what I'm doing.