Yours All Along Page 9
Not that it should matter.
Since the night in the hotel room, he and Hunter had agreed to not have a repeat performance. Hunter had told him that he didn’t want him to move. Devon had admitted he really didn’t want to leave either and that starting anything with a guy who wasn’t sure and wasn’t out really wasn’t an option anyway. At that point, the decision had been made. Dev wouldn’t move. He and Hunter would go back to being just friends. Rewind. Restart. Like that was so fucking easy.
Since then, they’d managed not to make things awkward by an unspoken, carefully executed plan of rarely being alone together. Hunter had taken a sudden interest in going out and coming home too trashed for any real conversation. And Devon had spent more time studying in the library in the last two weeks than he had all semester.
Devon told himself it was for the best. He wasn’t going to date someone who couldn’t be open about being together. He’d done enough goddamned hiding in high school. And Hunter wouldn’t fuck up his family situation by fooling around with a boy. Their friendship would endure. Win-win.
But as he watched the blonde drape herself over Hunter and kiss him, something tight and tense burrowed in Devon’s chest. He took a long pull off his beer and tried to drag his eyes away. A few others drifted into the space, taking seats wherever they could find them, and distracted Devon from the torture for a minute. The couch squeaked as Brad, one of his frat brothers, and Brad’s girlfriend took the spots next to Devon. Conversation swelled around him, and Hunter and the blonde seemed oblivious to anything besides each other. He doubted Hunt had even noticed Devon was in the room.
Devon was about to get up and bail, feeling altogether antisocial at the moment. But then Alice, one of his friends from their sister sorority, strolled up with a dramatic sigh. “I am so over the meat market in the kitchen.” She plopped down in Devon’s lap, some of her hair sliding out of its topknot. “You mind, gorgeous? All the seats are taken.”
Devon smiled, happy to see a friendly face and someone to distract him from watching Hunter in all his hetero jock glory. “Just make yourself at home, Al.”
“Let me stay and I’ll tell you all about the meat in the kitchen.” She looped her arm around the back of his neck and waggled her eyebrows.
“Spare me. I live with most of these guys. Not interested.”
“You and me both.” She leaned against the arm of the couch, situating herself sideways over Devon’s lap. “You should hear some of the lines I got fed tonight. I’d need way more alcohol for any of that lame shit to work. Or a lobotomy.”
Mark, one of guys who’d joined them, looked Alice’s way. “Oh, come on, beautiful. Give the guys a break. They probably got all tongue-tied seeing you in that skirt.”
She sniffed. “Are you giving me a line while talking about other guys’ lines? That’s very meta.”
Mark grinned wide. “How about this? You need a lap. I’ve got one, too. Hop on, sugar.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “I’ll pass. I’d prefer a lap that’s not going to poke me.”
Mark laughed and rocked his hips suggestively. “You might enjoy that. Or you, Crowe. Just let me get a few more beers in me first.”
Devon groaned. “Mark, I’ve never been happier that I’m gay and that you’re exceptionally straight.”
Alice snorted and Mark flipped a good-natured middle-finger salute Devon’s way. “You two don’t know what you’re missing. I’d rock your worlds.”
Alice gave Mark a half smile that made Devon think the lines may have worked on her after all. Devon was about to tease her about it, but then another voice cut in.
“Gay, huh?” A guy Devon only vaguely recognized smirked in their direction, his eyes half-mast in that one-too-many-beers way. “So even if that chick wiggles around on you in that hot little skirt, you won’t get hard?”
“Dude, I don’t even know you. You gotta buy me a drink before we get to talk about what makes me hard,” Devon said, trying to keep his tone light, even though he sensed more in the question than the good-natured curiosity his frat brothers threw his way.
Hunter looked up at that.
Drunk guy’s lip curled. “Something’s wrong with you if that chick can’t get you going. Some perv probably fucked with you when you were a kid, huh? Turned you into a fag.”
Alice gasped, and Devon’s jaw clenched. Great, one of these idiots. He’d met enough of them in his life, but it never failed to make his teeth gnash and his stomach twist.
“Shut the fuck up, man,” Hunter barked from his spot on the couch before Devon could respond. “Call him a name again, and we’re going to have a problem.”
“Fucking A,” Brad said, sitting up straighter next to Devon.
Devon reached out and put a hand on Brad’s arm. “Don’t. Seriously not worth it.”
“Oh yeah, Riley?” the idiot said, swinging all his focus to Hunter. “Am I insulting your bitch? I heard you two room together. Bet he’s sucking your dick every night so you’ll fight his fights for him.”
Devon quickly shifted Alice off his lap and stood as Hunter got to his feet, rage in his stance. Devon stepped in front of him and put his hands to Hunter’s chest, feeling his friend vibrate with anger. “Easy, man. I’ve got this.”
“Aw, look at that, Riley. Your man trying to protect you,” the guy said. “Maybe I was wrong. You’re the one doing the cocksucking.”
Murder flared in Hunter’s eyes. “That’s right, Jones. Every fucking night. You got beat out of the starting pitcher position by a Grade A cocksucker. How’s that feel?”
Devon’s mouth fell open. Oh, shit. Hunter must be way drunker than he thought.
The blonde’s eyes went big behind Hunter’s shoulder.
A scoff came from behind Devon, the idiot not backing off. “You hear that, Bradley? You’ve got yourself a frat of freaks.”
Devon spun around as Brad stood and took a menacing step forward. “Get the fuck out of here, asshole. There’s an IQ requirement of two to get in here and you just failed.”
“You gonna make me?” Jones asked, holding out his hands in a bring-it-on motion.
“Damn right,” Mark joined in.
Something sharp and sweet moved through Devon at the sight of his brothers standing up for him, for not flinching at what Hunter had said, for having his back no matter what.
“Oh, you’re gonna need to suck a lot of dick tonight, gay boy. You’ve got your whole team assembled.”
That did it. Devon stepped in front of the other guys. “I don’t need anyone to fight my fights for me. You want to come at me? Come at me.”
The guy’s smile was slow. “Wouldn’t be right to hit a girl.”
Then the dude swung. Devon dodged the drunken arc and charged. Jones hit the wall before he’d realized he’d missed, and Devon landed a solid right hook. The pain that seared through Devon’s knuckles at the contact was totally worth it to see the dazed look on the idiot’s face. Jones tried to swing back, landing a few grazing blows and one that hurt like a son of a bitch in his ribs. But Devon had the advantage being sober and taller. A crowd was gathering, and he could feel Hunter and his other brothers behind him, but he appreciated that they didn’t jump in yet. They were letting Devon handle it.
When Devon landed a punch to the guy’s gut that sent Jones sliding to the floor and a picture of the graduating class of 1993 crashing down along with him, Devon backed up and shook out his hand. “Now look who’s on his knees for me.”
The guy tossed out a few standards from the homophobe handbook as he tried to get to his feet, and Devon kicked him back down, anger boiling over.
Brad put a hand on him, easing him back. “We’ve got him.”
Devon let himself get pulled back, but he was having trouble catching his breath and regaining his composure. So much of him wanted to rail on the guy—give payback for all the times he’d been called hateful names, for all the shit people like this put him and others through, for this idiot outing Hunter. Bu
t when he saw Alice’s wide, scared eyes and some of the gazes of the crowd, he knew he’d taken it too far already.
Devon stalked back to the couch and lowered himself onto it while Brad and Mark grabbed Jones by the arms and hauled him outside.
Alice was kneeling in front of him in an instant. “Oh my god, sweetie. Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”
He tried to take a deep breath, but that shit hurt and he let out a groan. “Fuck.”
“Here, out of the way,” said a deep, familiar voice. “We have a first aid kit under the sink in the hall bathroom. Can you grab that, Alice? And everyone else, party’s over.”
“Sure,” Alice said. There were grumbles from everyone else.
Devon looked up to see Hunter shifting into the spot Alice had vacated. His eyes met Devon’s. “Where does it hurt?”
Devon could tell Hunter was fighting through the haze of the alcohol. His gaze was focused but his movements were slow and clumsy—at least in comparison to Hunt’s normal graceful athleticism. “I’m fine. He just got me in the ribs. Kinda hurts to breathe.”
Hunter frowned. “He could’ve cracked one. Which side?”
Devon put his hand to his left side, and Hunter went right for the hem of his T-shirt. He pushed it up, examining the expanse of skin beneath. Gentle fingers touched Devon’s ribs. Devon closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. There was pain, but the warm tingle that traveled over his skin from the touch was something altogether different. Hunter was here, at his side, touching him in public.
The other guys came back in, letting them know that Jones had been handled. Brad tucked his hands in his pockets, frowning. “How bad is it?”
“We might need to bring him to the ER to get checked out,” Hunter said, not moving his hand away.
Devon groaned. “Fuck that. I’ll be fine. Just give me some whiskey.”
“Or bring him upstairs, Riley, and do some of that Grade A cocksucking you were talking about. That’ll make him feel better,” Mark said with a grin.
Devon choked and Hunter stilled.
Devon recovered first. “Then you’ll get jealous, Mark. I think it’s your turn tonight. The rest of you can get in line since now we’re the fraternity of cocksucking freaks. Just don’t use teeth this time. You know I hate that.”
“Oh, if that’s happening, then I’m totally staying around to watch,” Alice said, strolling back into the room with the first aid kit. She handed the white box to Hunter and plopped onto the other couch in the spot where Hunter’s date used to be. “And I’m taking pictures, so make sure and give me good angles. A girl’s gotta have a good stock for her spank bank.”
“A girl spank bank?” Mark turned and put his hand over his heart. “I am so fucking in love with you right now. Marry me?”
Devon laughed and then cringed when pain shot through his abdomen.
“Let’s see some action first and then I’ll decide.” She crossed her legs and leaned back with a smirk. “I’m waiting.”
Mark turned and clapped his hands. “All right, Riley, out of the way. Time to dish out some man love. I’ve got a kinky girl to impress. And someone get the Listerine ready for afterward.”
Everyone laughed, and Hunter’s shoulders eased down a bit. This was all a joke. They were assuming Hunter’s earlier comment was just talking shit like they all were now. Everyone was used to Hunter and Devon play flirting, being over the top. The ball of tension in Devon’s chest unfurled a bit.
Hunter pressed a folded-up gauze to a cut on Devon’s eyebrow. “Mark, if you think you’re getting anywhere near my man, you’re crazy. I’ve got this shit on lockdown.”
The words were said in jest, but Hunter’s expression was pensive as he dabbed the blood from Devon’s brow and put a bandage on it.
“Selfish bastard,” Mark declared. “Come on, Brad. That leaves you, you ugly fucker. Let’s give this woman a show.”
“Touch me anywhere, dude, and I’m punching you in the junk,” Brad said, deadpan. “Riley, do we need to get this kid to the clinic?”
“No,” Devon said.
“Maybe,” Hunter said at the same time.
Devon batted away Hunter’s hand and forced himself to sit up without wincing too much. His side was stabbing him, his knuckles aching, and his head was booming. “I’ll be fine. He probably just bruised my ribs. The last thing I feel like doing is sitting in the ER for hours. I’ll take something for the pain and call it a night.”
“You sure, hon?” Alice asked, sitting forward, brows knit.
Devon stood, bracing a hand on Hunter’s shoulder when pain kicked him in the side at the movement. “I’m good.”
Mark frowned. “Man, maybe you should go. I mean, you turned down head from me. You may have a concussion or something. You’re clearly out of your mind.”
The words were meant to be funny, but the genuine concern on the guy’s face surprised Devon and warmed him. God, how had he managed to find friends like these in a place like this? Without thinking too long about it, he reached out and grabbed Mark’s shirt.
“Oh, come here, stud.” Devon drew him close for a sound, smacking kiss on the lips. It was a chaste peck, but Devon made a dramatic mmm sound and it earned appropriate gasps from the audience.
When he pushed Mark away, Mark’s eyes were wide but then they crinkled with laughter. “Holy shit, dude.”
“That. Was. So. Hot,” Alice said, giving a slow clap. “I might’ve just gotten a semi.”
Mark’s attention swung to her. “We’re so getting married. You’re like the perfect woman.”
Alice rocked to her feet. “How about I let you to buy me coffee first?”
Mark pumped a fist in the air in victory and then patted Devon on the ass as he went over to Alice. “Thanks for taking one for the team, man.”
“You kids have fun. Make sure to use lube when you peg him, Al,” Devon called out.
Alice rolled her eyes, but the sparkle in her expression was hard to hide. She came over and kissed him on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”
Devon watched them go, shooing Brad away, too. He just wanted to get up to his room and get to bed. But, of course, he wasn’t alone yet. Hunter had stood by like a sentry for the last few minutes and now he was wearing a scowl.
“What crawled up your ass, big man?” Devon asked, moving slowly toward the staircase.
“You’re hurt.”
He trudged up the steps. “I’m fine.”
Hunter followed close behind, not saying anything until they were nearly to their room. “You kissed Mark.”
The hard tone had Devon looking back over his shoulder. “It was a joke.”
“So you’ll just kiss any of us for the sake of helping out, huh? Mark to impress a girl. Me ’cause I got curious.”
Devon didn’t know where the bitter tone was coming from—Hunter or the alcohol. But he didn’t have time for this shit tonight. He hobbled into their room and shut the door when Hunter followed. “I kissed Mark because it’d help your case, asshole. Throw any remaining suspicion out the window after your big drunken cocksucking pronouncement. And let’s not pretend a peck on the lips is the same as what happened with us.”
Color blazed high on Hunter’s cheeks.
Devon pressed his hand to his side, trying to ease some of the throbbing pain as he sat on the edge of his bed. “And what do you care who I kiss anyway? You had your tongue down Sparkles’s throat for ten minutes before you even noticed there were other people in the room.”
Hunter’s eyebrow lifted. “Sparkles?”
“That stupid top she was wearing. Is she trying to blind a guy so you’ll be distracted from her annoying-ass accent? God, I might’ve kissed her just to shut her up.”
Hunter crossed his arms across his chest. “Sounds like you were paying pretty close attention.”
“Hard to look away when you sat right across from me.” Devon grabbed the edge of his T-shirt. He just wanted to get undressed, get under the covers,
and sleep this off. But a hot knife of pain jabbed him in the side when he tried to lift his arms up to tug his T-shirt off. “Fuck.”
Hunter blew out a breath and crossed the room. “Here. I’ve got it.”
Hunter grabbed the arm of Devon’s T-shirt and held it out so that Devon could gingerly guide his arms out of the armholes. When he was free of it, Hunter pulled it over his head for him. He tossed it to the side and straightened, peering down at Devon with an unreadable expression.
“You need help with your jeans?”
Dev cleared his throat and toed his shoes off. “I can get them undone if you can pull the legs down. I’m not sure I can bend over all the way.”
Hunter nodded and guided the jeans off, leaving Devon in just his boxer briefs. It was a view Hunter had seen before. Nothing new. But the way Hunter’s eyes roamed down Devon’s body was altogether different.
The silence stretched between them. Devon wet his lips. “Hunt . . .”
“I’m sorry that Jones called you those names. It was about me. He got booted from the team after he blew up over losing the starting pitcher spot. He knows we’re friends, was trying to get to me.”
“It’s not your fault the guy’s an asshole. And he’s not the first and won’t be the last to call me names. I can handle myself.”
“I know you can, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t want to demolish the guy for saying all that shit. I don’t know how you deal with all of that on a regular basis. I’d probably be in jail.”
Devon sighed. “You’re probably going to have to figure out how not to beat down everyone, because that guy and twenty of your not-so-close friends heard you say you’re sucking my dick every night. The guys figured out you were joking, but the rest of the rumor mill is going to eat that shit up like candy. People are going to say stuff about you, to you. Doesn’t matter if it’s a lie.”
Hunter sank onto the foot of his bed at that, running his hands through his hair and looking a little pale. “Shit. I didn’t think. I just wanted Jones to see he hadn’t gotten to me.”
“You were drunk and pissed. Bad combination. But if you want to squash this, you need to be proactive. Get yourself a girl quick. Be seen with her. Make out in front of people at parties like you were doing tonight. It’ll go away quicker that way.”