Page 55 of Until He Scores

“We’d get you potty trained in no time,” he stated when he returned with said crutches. “Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Stand there and look pretty.”

“Can do.”

I rolled my eyes. After I got the crutches under me—I was old hat at this part—I started for my master bathroom and flicked on the light.Shit.“Okay so I kind of lied. I might need you to stand over here and look pretty. This was the hard part last time too.” I had a separate “room” for the toilet and at least beforeeverything had gone to shit the last time, I had Derrick to keep me balanced.

“I’m guessing we’re about to get real intimate rather quickly,” he said, coming up behind me.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I don’t need you to hold my dick or anything, just help me stay balanced so I don’t piss all over the floor.”

He exhaled. “I’m telling you; puppy pads are in your future.”

I snickered as we stepped into the space. “I know I keep saying it but, thank you. Again.”

“You keep that pee in the bowl, and that’ll be thanks enough.” Pope braced me with his hands on my hips as I relieved my bladder. “Damn, where’d you keep all that? In your camel hump?”

I tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh. “Look, they pumped me full of so much shit, I’m surprised my eyeballs aren’t floating still.”

“I’m just saying,” he began as I finished, “if you did that in front of a racehorse, you’d humiliate them.”

“God, you’re still so fucking cheesy,” I said, flushing the toilet. “Come on, I need to wash my hands.”

He stopped me then, kissing me for the third time unprompted. His touch was comforting, guiding me backward by the hips until my back touched the wall. Everything about the moment was gentle, almost delicate. From the way he held me there, to the unhurried way he explored my mouth and the languid sighs that filled his chest. When he stepped back a small, smug smile tugged his mouth.

“Maybe you were right,” he said. “It was never about gay or straight. It was always about finding you and figuring this out for myself. Or maybe, on some level, deep down I’ve always known I was meant for you.”

My heart quickened. I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to have them dashed again. Yet, I also couldn’t deny the connection building between us. “Like I said, Pope. This has always been your journey. I’ll be right here when you find your way to me.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 20

Thierry

Icame awake with the most amazing sensation blooming in the pit of my belly. Every inch of me pinged to life as I registered where I was and how I got there. Yesterday, I came home. Ate an amazing meal—not hospital food—and watched horror movies with my best friend. My eyes popped open as a groan filled my chest.

Glancing down, it took a second to register what was happening. During the night, I’d flung the blankets off. Or maybe Pope had? I couldn’t remember anything. Didn’t matter, because what drew my attention was the fact he straddled my good leg and somehow, he’d lowered my sweats, so my hard dick was out and being lavished with attention.

“Fuck,” I moaned when the wet heat of Pope’s mouth wrapped around the head of my cock, and his piercing teased my glans. “You don’t have to do this. Don’t push yourself.” Jerking off with him the night of the party went further than I expected I’d ever experience with him. This was his journey, and I wouldn’t push for more, no matter how good it felt. Or after weeks of clinging to those memories, wishing we had more time.

“I’m not,” he said. “I thought about our discussions last night while you were sleeping. Then this morning, I figured you got morning wood like I did, so I wanted to try something different.”

Why did I feel like we were fourteen again? “But you shouldn’t have to make giant leaps for me.”

“Because you wouldn’t do the same for me?”

I didn’t answer his question. Truth was, I’d have been whatever he needed. He could’ve given me a command, and I’d have done it. I arched towards him, letting out a shaky groan. “This is different. You’re moving from first base to home without knowing the rules of the game first. Or how it’s played.”

“Weird, you used baseball as your euphemism,” he replied.

“I’m being serious.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He eased back.

Yes.

No.

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