Page 16 of Concussion Protocol
CHAPTER 6
JON
FOUR MONTHS LATER
The moment I run past the try line, slamming the ball on the field for the final points to clench our win, I don’t stop. I run past my celebrating teammates to the sidelines, where the sexiest, most beautiful guy is jumping up and down and cheering.
I barely slow as I barrel into him, lifting and spinning him. His legs instinctively wrap around my waist, and he laughs. He kisses me deep, stoking the kind of passion that I’ve only ever felt with him. At this rate, my cock is going to bust through my jockstrap just to get to him.
He groans into my mouth and pulls his lips away from mine.
“Your mom is right behind us,” he reminds me. My grin is wide and amused.
Mom loves Shane. So much so, that within a week of meeting him, she told me in no uncertain terms not to fuck it up. Because if I do anything to break us up, she’s keeping him. She’s alreadytrying to get me to put a ring on it and lock him down, which she’s never done with any of my past relationships.
Surprisingly, I’m very much not against the idea. I know it’s only been six months, so it’s probably too soon to be thinking about marriage. But I started making plans for the future the first day we spent together. All we were doing was lying around on my sofa, eating lasagna in our underwear and watching reruns of Finding Bigfoot. But I already knew Shane was something special.
He's become my best friend and every moment we have to be apart, I miss him so much it hurts. I grin like an idiot whenever he texts me during his shifts, and we video chat every night that we can’t spend together.
Eric walks past us and scowls. I wink at him, and his face flushes red as he picks up the pace to get away from us faster.
After our altercation a few months back, he’s kept his distance. He was pretty smug about getting in the first hit, but when I didn’t fight back and just held him back like a small child, it just pointed out what an asshole he was. I’ve always been pretty passive, but I wasn’t about to let that douche throw punches and talk shit about my man like that. Apparently, quite a few teammates overheard our little back and forth about the way he treated Shane, and they weren’t impressed with any of it. Suddenly, Eric isn’t so popular anymore, and the rest of the team has not only warmed up to me, but they’ve enjoyed having Shane back at the games. Everyone loves him.
Ilove him.
“We should probably get going. I know you want to meet up with the team so you can drink beer out of a sweaty cleat.” The wayShane cringes at the admittedly gross tradition for celebrating big wins makes me laugh.
“Don’t act like you aren’t looking forward to spending the evening with a bunch of testosterone filled athletes drunkenly carrying you around like something precious.”
“You’re the only one that does that.”
“But you love it,” I reply with a singsong voice.
Four hours later, Shane and I are making our way up my ridiculously steep stairs to my apartment. Despite pacing myself at the bar, I’m far tipsier than I intended to get, and I’m having to force myself not to lean on Shane’s smaller frame. It reminds me of that first night we spent together. The night that changed my life.
“Who has stairs this steep?” I mumble, remembering Shane’s words from so many months ago.
“Weren’t you looking into moving into a townhouse?” Shane had caught me looking at real estate listings a few weeks back. I haven’t gathered up the courage to ask him what I’ve been wanting to for months, afraid to scare him away with how quickly I’ve gotten attached to him.
“That depends,” I say, sobering up a little with the nerves rushing through me.
“On?”
“Whether or not you’re going to move in with me.”
Shane’s eyes are wide. “You want me to move in with you?” He laughs nervously and goes to the kitchen to fill a glass withwater. “Maybe you should sober up before you make any rash decisions.”
“It’s not, though. I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of months. I just wasn’t sure if it was too soon.”
“All of this has happened kind of fast,” he agrees contemplatively. “But?—”
“I don’t care,” I say, cutting him off. I have to get all of this out before my nerve leaves me. “I want you to move in with me. I want to wake up every morning with you next to me. I want to be there for you every time you stumble home after long hours and hard shifts, so I can run you a bath or make you something to eat. I want to take care of you.”
“That’s my job,” Shane says, moving in close and brushing his hand through my short hair.
“You deserve to have someone take care of you the way you take care of everyone else.” Clearing my throat, I lift Shane into my arms and press a soft kiss to his throat. “I want everything with you, Shane. Because…I-I love you.”
A huff of air leaves his chest and at first, I think Shane is laughing at me. But when I look up at him, his eyes are filled with tears.
