Page 81 of The Midseason Fakeout

I’m dating a guy I swooned over since I was younger.

He looks at me like he’s in awe.

I don’t think I could have it any better right now. Really.

When I get to the edge of the water, I slip my shirt over my head and turn toward the trail exit. Aidan is marching my way, his hand already at his pants and tugging the zipper down. “We definitely should’ve started skinny-dipping together sooner.”

“I don’t know,” I tease, kicking off my leggings. “I think everything happens for a reason.” Standing there in my bra and panties is liberating. Courses of electricity jolt through me, and when Aidan tugs his shirt over his head, that electricity turns to warmth.

I back up until my heels hit the water. It is chilly, but nothing unbearable. I keep going, goading him farther and farther in. He steps out of his jeans, his cock pressing against his boxer briefs. He saunters toward me, and I take him in. His physique is something to behold.

“Don’t you have to be naked for this to count as skinny dipping?” he asks, lifting a brow.

“Hmm. Maybe we’ll call this ‘fooling around in the water,’ and then I’ll cross it off my list.”

“You need to cross off getting a real boyfriend.”

My heart pounds at his words. Real. I finally feel like I’m actually living my own life. I have somethingreal.

He slides his hand up my spine, then back down to my thighs, gripping me and hauling me up. I cross my ankles behind his ass, and he walks us into the river.

“Are you sore?” he asks, the tension mounting.

“I wouldn’t tell you if I was.” He frowns, but I shrug in response. “Just being real, stud.”

“Hmm,” Aidan says, nipping at my lips. “Since we’re being real, I think we need to go back to a party so I can actually take you upstairs and compete against the couple in the next room.”

“Well, aren’t you dirty? I think I’m too innocent to be associating with someone like you.”

He grins. “Of course. Because you’ve never touched yourself in a public bathroom.”

“Never.”

“Never let the best player in the league finish you off.”

“I have morals,” I tell him with fake shock.

He stops for a moment, staring at me. “How are you so perfect?”

I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight to me.

“It’s so weird,” he muses, his voice softer, more introspective.

“What?” I stroke my fingers down the nape of his neck.

He shakes his head. “I’ve always felt like I could lose everything at any moment, you know? Nothing seemed fixed or settled. Even at home, I think a part of me always created distance between me and my parents because I was scared of losing them. Scared of being given up again. A product of being adopted and all that.”

I pull away, watching him. I hate that for him. No one should feel like that, especially not with their family, and I’m ashamed I’ve ever complained about my situation. Aidan has had it harder than me. Harder than most.

“You feel good, though, Bails. Really good. You let me say all of my ridiculous things. You cook me breakfast on game day. You do all these crazy things with me—and even think up most of them. It just…”

I smile, smoothing my palm down his neck. “Feels right.”

He nods, and I couldn’t have said it better myself. What should’ve been a ridiculous offer that day when Darrin and I showed up at his dorm, Aidan went with it. He sees the humor—the possibilities—in everything. It’s a breath of fresh air.

“You can always feel at home with me,” I tell him. “I mean it.”

In that moment, I know there’s no way I’m going to let my mom come between us. Or anything, for that matter.

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