Page 108 of Don't Say You're Sorry

As the last few seconds on the clock tick down, I’m on my feet with everybody else. I’m so focused on Easton that I forget to cover my neck. Axel adjusts my collar, and I don’t even bother to smack his hand away, worried I’ll miss something if I look away for even a second.

Easton puts the last two points on the board with a slam dunk, and the Hawks win. Nate and Carter catch him as he drops down and wraps their arms around him. Coach and the rest of the team run over to join them, and I lose sight of Easton for a few seconds. He finds me through the crowd, and I try to tell him with my eyes how proud I am of him.

I fucking love you, baby.

He smiles as if he heard me and looks away again.

At post-game interviews, Easton gets more attention than usual. He was at the top of his game tonight, and I’m not the only one who noticed. He looks happy as he chats to the interviewer and answers all her questions. To her, I’m sure the carefree grin on his face looks genuine, but I know better. He’s forcing it.

As the team heads for the showers, the rest of us follow the crowd out of the stadium and wait in the car park next to Frankie’s truck. Axel stands awkwardly next to Frankie and Xavi as they talk to our parents. I wish he’d leave. Every time hesneaks a look at me, I glare at him. My mum sends a curious look my way, and I straighten up, schooling my features. Thankfully, Easton, Nate, and Carter join us before she can ask what’s wrong with me.

My mum heads straight over to Easton and hugs him, cupping his cheeks and talking excitedly about the game. I can tell he’s done and ready to get out of here, but he lets her talk for as long as she wants to. He has all the time in the world for my mum, and I love him for it.

Our parents say goodbye and tell us they’ll see us on Sunday for dinner. I wait until their car is out of sight before I go to Easton. Just before I get there, he shakes his head. “Cameras,” is all he says.

It’s different at The Hideaway. There aren’t as many rules there. It’s dark in the club. Most people are drunk, high, or both, and too focused on themselves to really worry about what anyone else is doing. But here,everyoneis watching him, taking pictures of him, desperate for a glimpse into his personal life.

“Is your car here?” he asks.

“No, I came with Frankie so I could go home with you.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

We get into his car, and only when we’re out of the car park do I take his hand, linking my fingers through his. He grins, lifting our hands to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

I look out the window and swallow the lump in my throat.

At home, Nate and Xavi are the only ones not doing shots. They disappeared for a couple hours after the game and came home to the after-party. Xavi’s sitting on the kitchen counter, and Nate’sstanding between his legs, his hands on Xavi’s thighs and their faces close, in their own little world.

Easton wanted to get drunk, and I thought that was a great idea…for about five minutes. I can’t touch him in front of all these people, and it’s killing me.

I set my shot glass down and turn to face him. “Are you done? I’m fucking dying to get you alone.”

He raises a brow, and I snap my lips shut. Oops. Luckily, I don’t think anyone heard me.

“Go wait for me in my room,” he says quietly. “Be naked by the time I get there.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Surprise me.”

I nod and all but run upstairs.

I get to his room and look at the bed, trying to decide where to position myself, trying to imagine what I want Easton to see when he walks in.

An idea comes to me, and I roll with it without thinking too hard. If I let myself think about what I’m doing, I might lose my nerve.

I get naked. Climbing onto the bed, I lie on my back, spread my legs, and dangle my head off the edge, staring at the door upside down.

I stroke my dick while I wait, my heart thumping in my ears.

He doesn’t keep me waiting long.

He walks into the room, locks the door behind him, and turns around. He curses when he sees me, almost dropping the whiskey and Coke he’s holding.

Another idea comes to me.

“Can I have some of that?” I ask, gesturing to the drink before he sets it down.

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