Page 39 of Spark
Shrugging one shoulder, he picks up a piece of toast. "It was all done in one pan."
I doubt it was that easy, considering he had to dice the bacon and the spinach and the uneven slices of toast look like he sawed them off of a full loaf. "Even if that’s true, it’s still an effort. You could have woken me up. I would have helped you cook, or cooked for you."
Finlay lays his hand over mine. "I wanted to do it for you, Mateo."
The feeling that something significant is happening between us flares once more. I release a shaky breath. "Thank you."
He takes the fork from my hand and raises it to my lips. I accept the bite of food. Fluffy eggs, creamy cheese both salty and sweet, the extra salt and crisp from the bacon, and sweet spinach. I moan as I chew and watch him enjoy his own taste. "So good. I love the blend and balance of flavors."
"I’m happy you like it."
The thick slices of whole-wheat toast are topped with melted butter. I tear a piece off and stack the omelet on top. Delicious. "So, give me an update on the projects you’ve worked on this week."
"I finished grouting the tile in the half-bath downstairs last Saturday. Next on the list, I need to replace the framing around the windows in two of the bedrooms."
"I can help you with that."
As we eat, he tells me more about the work he’s completed so far. I can’t wait for a proper tour so I can check it all out.
I glance at the clock. Nearly eleven fifteen. I need to get going. "I have to be at the field by noon for warm-ups. The game starts at one."
Disappointment clouds his features. "Okay."
I’m not ready to say goodbye to him yet, not after the night and morning we’ve shared. Some of the guys’ partners or boyfriends or friends or families come to the games. Outside of my family, I’ve never had a special someone there. "Would you want to come to the game? I’m not on the field the entire time, so we’d get to hang out, and maybe you could join us for a beer afterward? We could even grab a quick dinner before I go to work."
For a second, he looks like a trapped animal, eyes darting around the room like he’s looking for an escape. He presses the heel of his hand to his sternum, and his lips curve up. But the movement seems like it’s taken a gargantuan amount of effort, and his smile lacks its typical light and ease. "Oh, I…"
Just because I’m ready to spend another span of hours together doesn’t mean he feels the same. Maybe he wants a break. Gripping my mug, I attempt a shrug and a smile. "You don’t have to. It’s totally fine. You probably have other stuff to do."
Sipping my coffee doesn’t help me swallow my disappointment. I give my full attention to the remaining food on my plate. We continue eating in silence. In the weeks we’ve been together, he’s texted me after practices and games, asking how I’m doing and how everything went. But now that I think about it, I’ve never seen him at a game before, not in all the years I’ve played with Cam. And that’s okay. A lot of the guys don’t have people come to watch them. I’d never want to force Finlay to do something.
Finlay’s hand on my thigh captures my attention. Stroking my leg, he puffs out his cheeks before releasing the air, and I get the sense he’s battling some kind of internal struggle. "I’ll go. I want to see you in action."
I’m happy, but not if he feels like this is some sort of test, or if he’s saying yes out of some feeling of obligation. "Are you sure? I’ve dated guys who weren’t interested in going to the games, and it’s always been fine with me. It’s really okay if you have other things you’d prefer to do."
"The thing I’d prefer todoisyou. Here, in this bed, all afternoon." His hand traces higher up my thigh.
My dick jumps at his words. I’m so tempted by the heat and promise of passion. "I want that. So much. But I can’t abandon the team without any notice. That wouldn’t be right."
"Sometimes, you’retoogood." But he kisses me and smiles as he withdraws his hand. "Why don’t you shower and I’ll start to clean up?"
"I was hoping we’d shower together."
"Me too. But if we’re both in there, I don’t think we’ll be getting out anytime soon. I don’t want to make you late. It’s eleven thirty now. The field is fifteen minutes from here."
I place the tray to the bottom of the bed and then careful not to nudge it, I shift across the mattress and straddle Finlay. We’re both half hard. Brow raised, he smiles up at me. I trail my fingers over his chest and stomach. The muscles contract under my touch. "Come on. Please?"
"I can’t say no to you."
The thrill of winning a rugby match has nothing on the elation racing through me as I stand and then tug Finlay to his feet. "I’ll try to use that power only for good."
"I wouldn’t mind if you were a little wicked." His hands slide up my chest. I sigh at the feel of warm palms skating over my skin. We’re in each other’s arms, kissing, and then he’s walking me backward toward the bathroom.
With the slip and slide of soapy skin, our shower is steamy in more ways than one. I don’t have time to drop to my knees and tease him with a long blow job, but a handful of conditioner lets me jack both of our cocks and I get to kiss Finlay while I bring us off.
We rush through getting ready, but when we arrive at the field, I’m ten minutes late. The entire team is already here, and in the process of doing warm-ups.
"Uncle Fin!" Olive’s screech echoes around the field and draws everyone’s attention to Finlay and me. She jumps off the bleachers and races towards us, waving like she hasn’t seen Finlay in years. "You’re here!"
