Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Howie had clearly left out the sex cult on purpose. I didn’t know where people got this shit. What would they think if they knew I used to believe I was in love with Houston? That he’d broken my heart and I still hadn’t recovered? All I knew was I wasn’t going to fuck up my chance with the Rush, but I also wasn’t going to let Houston in again. Ever. No matter how thick the sexual tension was between us.
Not that he wanted anything of the sort when it came to me.
“Are you listening, Atwood?” Coach asked.
Shit. I hadn’t been. I had Houston-brain. “Yes, sir. I won’t screw up. I’m here to play football. I’m going to help the Rush go all the way. That’s all I care about.”
They nodded, but I could tell by the questions in their gazes they didn’t know if they could believe me. Moving out of Houston’s place needed to be number one on my to-do list.
“Now, about you and Houston. We need to know what to expect. I don’t like the idea of having to make some kind of statement, but I also don’t want these stories and questions about you and Houston following us around at every game,” Larry added.
“That’s going to be difficult,” Cynthia spoke up. “Houston’s so universally loved in the league that if we leave it at no comment, the photo was taken out of context, or any variation like that it’s going to still result in stories about Cullen doing Houston wrong.”
Ugh. McRae was such a fucking Boy Scout. She was right. Everyone loved him, and the thing was, he deserved it. He was a good man who did the right thing and cared about people. I was always going to be the fuckup between us.
“What’s the deal between the two of you?” Paul asked.
Before I could answer, not that I knew what I would say anyway, the intercom buzzed. “Sorry to interrupt. I have Houston McRae out here asking to speak with you all.”
That one sentence tackled my heart, like it was alone, with no defenders, going up against the whole offensive line. Houston was there? What the fuck was he doing?
“Let him in,” Larry said.
Great. He was probably going to come in here and try to get me traded so he didn’t have to deal with me. Even while those thoughts tumbled through my head, I knew they weren’t true. Houston would never do that. He’d let me stay at his house the past week. I felt like we were actually making some headway between us.
Everyone was quiet as the door opened and Houston came in. He walked with a slight limp that made me wonder if he’d tried to get here too fast or had somehow hurt himself. His brown hair was slightly mussed, hanging over his forehead. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved tee that hugged his chest in all the right ways.
“Houston, this is a surprise,” Coach said.
He glanced at me but quickly averted his eyes like he didn’t want me to see what would reflect back.
“I just wanted to come down and say something in Cullen’s defense. We were both careless last night, not just him. It was a private moment between…well, us—just a silly game, really, that shouldn’t be taken out of context.”
He’d come down to defend me. Why didn’t that surprise me? I made him crazy, and probably hadn’t ever made his life easy, even when we were together, but he’d come down here to protect my spot on the team.
“That’s what we were just talking to Cullen about when you came in, trying to figure out the nature of your relationship so we can get ahead of this before it does cause issues for him. We want to avoid unneeded drama and capitalize on the news. Being with you softens Cullen’s edges a bit,” Cynthia said.
“Dating Houston would be a blessing in disguise,” Paul added.
Jesus, was I that bad? They acted like I ate puppies or something. How pissed were they going to be when I had to tell them we were just friends? “We’re—”
“Boyfriends,” Houston cut me off. I was fairly certain my eyeballs had popped out of my head, though they must have been in place since Houston’s and my gazes snapped together, clashed and held on.
What the fuck was he doing?
His wide-eyed stare seemed to be stuck on the same question, like he had no idea what he’d just done either.
“Thank Christ,” Paul said.
“So that’s it, then. You should have said something when you were traded—though I guess it must be pretty new when you consider the circumstances. Didn’t you learn from Ramsey and Garrett that secrets never stay secret for long?” Coach asked.
Because they thought we were dating.
Boyfriends.
Like Garrett and Ramsey.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or tell them Houston was out of his fucking mind.