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Authors: Sage C. Holloway

Tags: #Contemporary; LGBTTQ; New Adult

Playing for the Other Team (4 page)

BOOK: Playing for the Other Team
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Silence.

Panic. Complete and total fucking panic.

What the hell did I just say to him?

I’m drunk, aren’t I? Please tell me I’m drunk.

No, I’m not. Oh crap.

The words had passed over my lips like a flood I would have been powerless to stop even if I’d seen it coming. It happened to me sometimes, as though my mental filter had gone temporarily on strike, but it had never been as bad as this evening. First the gay thing, now this.

“Damn,” Jasper breathed. “When you decide to compliment someone, you don’t hold anything back, do you?”

I didn’t reply. Couldn’t. Was too busy trying to will a hole to open up for me to crawl into and die of embarrassment. The silence pressed down on me heavily.

“It was your hair,” Jasper said suddenly. I was surprised enough to react.

“Huh?”

“Your hair. It was the first thing I noticed about you. I never saw anyone with natural silver hair before.”

“Silver, huh?” The less polite descriptor would have been “medium blond with some really premature graying going on.” It was a family curse. My mother, my sister—Sabrina—and I had all started going gray during middle school. And because my mother absolutely refused to give us permission to dump a bunch of harsh chemicals into our hair, we had never been able to cover it up. I’d caught a lot of crap for it, but over the last few years I had finally learned to own it.

“Yeah, silver. I was very poetic when I was fourteen.” Jasper cleared his throat. “And the way your skin was darker than your hair, it fascinated me. Made me want to look at you more. Made me notice your bone structure and your eyes and your throat.” He took several deep breaths, maybe to calm himself. I could sympathize. “When I first became interested in art, one of my teachers gave me a book with prints of famous paintings, this really thick tome. I loved looking through it. And sometimes I would find something breathtaking in there, and when I did I would always think, ‘God, I wish I’d painted that.’ And when I looked at you back then, well, that was what I thought. ‘I wish I’d painted that.’”

He exhaled a deep breath. Meanwhile, I tried to find mine. He looked just about as disconcerted by his waterfall of words as I’d been by mine.

Then Jasper turned to face me in the near darkness. He raised one unsteady hand to cup my face and stared at me. I stared back. There was something faraway in his expression. Then he made a dreamy, breathy sound.

I followed his actions to their logical conclusion, leaned forward, and kissed him.

Chapter Three

I’m Full Of Great Ideas

Once we’d started, I never wanted to stop again. Jasper’s lips were gentle but firm on mine, encouraging me to match their soft movement. His free hand stroked through the strands of hair he had just admitted being so fascinated by.

His touch, his kiss…they felt new. Unexpected. So different from anything I had experienced with girls. I was surprised to realize that my nervousness had faded, that all I felt now was a pleasant giddiness. Coming out or not, I knew for certain that this was something I wanted. Determinedly, I pulled his body closer.

Jasper’s lead was easy to follow, his touch effortlessly seductive. I lost myself somewhere between the first brush of his tongue over my lips and the sensation of his fluttering pulse beneath my fingertips. He was a tremendously good kisser—had to be, if he could keep me distracted enough to keep me from freaking out over what was, in essence, the very first time I’d kissed another—

I broke away from him with a panicked gasp of breath.

Gay. I’m gay. I’m kissing another guy. That’s very, very gay.

The sudden surge of fear all but subsided when I looked into Jasper’s eyes. I had just enough light to see his breathless expression of…

My gaze darted across his face, double-checking. In it, I read nothing but powerful, stunned disbelief. And joy.

“Oh God,” he breathed.

“What?”

“You made me wait four years for this.” Hands framed my face, gently tracing my jaw, my cheekbones. His tone was urgent. “Please, please tell me you don’t regret what just happened.”

His sudden alarm was enough cause for me to look past that wall of fear, digging for the regret I knew was there. But I couldn’t find it. None. A bit of uneasiness, maybe. Certainly worry for what lay ahead.

But I didn’t regret kissing Jasper. Not one damn bit.

“I don’t,” I assured him. Then the rest of his words finally caught up with me. “You really wanted me that whole time?”

His cool hands felt wonderful on my flushed skin, calm and soothing.

“Every minute of it.” His voice had gained a husky quality that made me shudder. “Even though I gave up hope a long time ago.”

I tried to process his words while my heart hammered violently in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I said. Jasper leaned back and took me with him so that we were lying next to each other on the mats. His hands still caressed my face.

“For what?” he asked.

“That it took me so long.”

He made a sound of amusement. “Bry, considering the fact that a few hours ago you weren’t even certain you were gay—”

“I am, though.” I bit my lip. “Certain, I mean. And gay.”

Jasper’s low chuckle was infectious. I reached for him and held on to his shoulder, seeking something solid in all of this crazy chaos.

“I’m gay,” I repeated, both to test out the words and reassure Jasper yet again. “It’s not as hard to say it as I thought it would be.”

“That’s good.” Jasper sounded sincere but a little preoccupied. His hands, those wonderfully talented hands, were still exploring me, and with a jolt of pleasure, I realized that I loved it. He gave me a sudden impression of myself as a raw material that he was getting to know before deciding what to create from it. I hoped it was something wonderful.

“Why
did
it take you so long?” Jasper demanded to know. “Or rather, let me rephrase that. Why now?”

“I don’t know.” Even though I loved his touch, I pulled back a little to create some breathing room for myself as I thought about it. The question was big enough to justify it. Jasper seemed to understand. He rested his hand lightly on my upper arm and kept it there. “I think, subconsciously, I’ve been struggling with it for a while, actually. I just didn’t have feelings for anyone strong enough to get me to realize what the hell was going on with me. And then we started having art together, and I thought back to your letter and how it made me feel, and then I suddenly couldn’t stop looking at you or thinking about you. And to be honest, I was angry at myself. I thought I should have been able to, I don’t know, keep it all under wraps so I could enjoy my last semester of high school in peace. It sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.”

Jasper chuckled. “A tiny bit, maybe. But it’s understandable.”

“Is it?”

“Well, it’s a lot to deal with. Your big epiphany had bad timing, and you were upset with yourself because of it.” He ran his hand through my hair again, a gesture of comfort more than anything.

“That makes me sound even more stupid,” I pointed out.

“Not stupid. Irrational,” he corrected.

“Even better,” I grumbled. He grinned.

“You’re just a regular Susie Sunshine, aren’t you? I meant to say, people are hardly ever rational when it comes to these things. Attraction, love, desire—they’re not rational. Neither is fear. You’re just being human.”

“You’re way too wise and all-knowing for your age,” I informed him flippantly. His grin only broadened, and I liked the fact that I was the reason for it.

“I’m buzzed. Besides, I like psychology. It’s my backup plan, you know, in case art college doesn’t work out.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t picture him as anything but an artist. Without even thinking about it, I reached out and touched his hand, admiring the strong yet elegant fingers. For a moment, he let me, and then he laced his fingers with mine. It was a simple gesture, just holding hands, but it felt sweeter than any touch ever had before. The minutes ticked by while I lay there silently and enjoyed the moment.

It was so beautiful. Peaceful. I treasured the knowledge that Jasper was close to me, after months of longing for something I hadn’t been able to understand. All that painful yearning was finally gone, and something else had taken its place. Something that felt like freedom.

Even though it was quiet where we were at, the beat of the music and the occasional shrieks and hollers of our classmates carried through the entire building. After a particularly loud interlude, Jasper raised his head. “You know, your friend is probably freaking out wondering where you are.”

“Trip? Yeah.” I shrugged dismissively even though Jasper raised a good point. Much as Trip had annoyed me tonight, I probably shouldn’t have vanished on him.

“Do you plan on coming out to him?” Jasper asked.

The question caught me off guard, and I choked on my next breath. Coughing violently, I shook my head. “Dude, I only just figured this out myself.”

“Well, yes. I know. But he’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

“I suppose so, yes. A good friend, at least.” My throat was burning. “But I don’t think he’d take it well.”

“He seemed pretty pissed off earlier.”

“Yeah, I got an earful.” I rolled onto my back and stared at the dark ceiling, no more than a couple of feet above us. “Fuck. I don’t want to think about this right now.”

“All right.” He squeezed my hand. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” I felt my lips wanting to curl into a smile. “What sort of stuff do gay guys generally talk about?”

“Oh, you know.” He waved dismissively with his free hand. “Fashion. Rainbows. Makeup.”

I snorted. “You forgot unicorns.”

“That’s implied,” he said with an impressively serious face. His thumb slowly caressed my lower lip in a move so sensual that I only barely managed to stop myself from capturing it and sucking on it.

“You’re so insanely handsome,” he said thoughtfully.

I was taken aback. “I am?”

“Good God, Bryson, I wasn’t kidding when I said that about your bone structure.” He swallowed and trailed his fingertips across my cheek. “Damn. I’m all shaky.”

That made two of us, then.

I couldn’t stop myself from imagining Jasper and myself at school, sitting in art class like this, walking through the halls. It was a nice idea, but it probably wouldn’t happen. I wasn’t prepared yet for the reactions I might get. It would more than likely take a long time until I was.

But, I realized, that brought me to another interesting question.

“So can we, I mean, be, like…” I felt myself flushing. “Um.…you and me. You know?”

When the small smile on Jasper’s face faded, I thought my heart might stop. My next breath left me in shuddering bursts. I felt stupid, and to take my mind off that, I leaned forward to taste his lips again. I only managed one tender brush before Jasper laid his hand flat on my chest and applied a bit of pressure, silently asking me to back off.

“What?” I asked.

“Bryson.” His breath tickled my skin. His eyes were still closed, and his lips parted, but he suddenly looked unsure. Uncomfortable. “We probably…shouldn’t.”

The words came as a shock to me, and I loosened my grip on him at once.

“What? Why?”

“Because. Just…” He hesitated. I got the distinct impression that he was debating with himself whether to tell me something. In the end, though, he only looked at me and stroked my cheek. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”

I captured his hand, covered it with my own, and pressed it against my face. My throat felt constricted. “I thought you were waiting for this. You said—”

“I know what I said!” The words burst out of him, sharp and harsh and so unexpected that I actually recoiled. I let go of his hand in shocked surprise. He only groaned and hid his face in his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’re not making this easy.”

“Could you please explain?” I demanded, feeling a small bit of relief when he lowered his hands and looked at me.

“We’ve got only a few weeks of school left.”

“Um, yes, I know that. It’s kinda hard to forget.” I waited, unsure what he was getting at.

“And after the summer, we’ll be attending college in two different states.” He sighed, but his words had given me pause.

“How do you even know what college I’m attending?”

That, for some reason, amused him. He made a dark sound that was almost a laugh. “Because you screamed it repeatedly from the rooftops in the middle of art class.”

“Oh,” I said sheepishly. “I forgot about that.”

“Obviously. My point is, we don’t have a whole lot of time left.” There was a distinct note of sadness in his words.

I hesitated, worried I’d sound like an asshole, but eventually decided I had far more to lose if I stayed silent.

“Shouldn’t we make the most of it, then?”

“In theory, maybe,” he muttered as he sat up.

“And in practice?”

“In practice, I don’t want to get my heart broken, and I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not really…ready.” He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “This is so bittersweet, Bry. Three or four years ago, I wasn’t so careful, but I am now. I have to be. And that’s the moment when you finally notice me.”

“I won’t hurt you.” I meant it wholeheartedly, but Jasper looked skeptical.

“You won’t mean to. I know that. But, Bry, you’re gonna be struggling with this for a while. For the rest of the year, over the summer, all the way into college. And I’m willing to help you with that, but I can’t…” He sighed. “I’m not in a good spot right now, not for starting something that we both know can’t last. Can you understand that?”

I swallowed my disappointment. It had been so good for just a small while. Jasper had kissed me and told me he wanted me, and now he’d taken it back again. But I supposed I deserved it. It was my own damn fault I had been living in denial for so long instead of figuring out my sexuality. I’d had my head in the sand, and the opportunity had passed me by.

“Yes, I understand.” It hurt to say the words, and it hurt even more to see Jasper’s obvious relief. “But you’ll still help me deal with this?”

BOOK: Playing for the Other Team
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