He immediately abandons whatever timing he had left. I think we’re actually moving the entire bed, and he’ll have to push it back into place when we’re done, but for now I focus on the feeling in my core where a warmth quickly grows and comes in a wave over me. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and focus on the feeling of his cock hitting the perfect spot.
With one last hard snap of his hips, Wyatt fills me, and I follow him over the edge.
Wyatt leans his massive body over mine, covering me from shoulders to ass with his weight and warmth. I can feel his chest heave as he tries to find his breath. I bring one hand back over my shoulder and rest it against his cheek.
“Good?” he asks.
“So fucking good.”
Now that I’ve had him, I’m not sure that I can go back to being just friends. The knowledge of how good his dick is might have ruined my ability to tease him about bringing his teammates home like I did on the first day I moved in. It’s not funny now that I know it can feel like this.
Tomorrow we’ll have a lot to discuss, but tonight…I have no intentions of leaving this bed.
When I wake up in the morning Wyatt is still crashed beside me, but my mind is consumed by exactly one thought.
What now?
In every single aspect of my life.
We just won the first ever Pro Volleyball Federation championship, but what now?
I just got my split of one-million dollars. What now?
Wyatt and I had sex last night, but what now?
One step at a time, Nash.
I’m an international and national professional champion. I’m an NCAA champion. I’ve been a pro for six years. What’s the future for me? The eight-month break between PVF seasons is a long time. Most players fill it by playing on tournament teams to try and earn enough points to play in theVolleyball National League, or Team USA if it’s close to an Olympic year. The path to those teams is long and winding, overly complicated for reasons no player understands, but I can do all of that if I want to. No matter what, I have a team and a league to come back to next year. My one and only goal coming back home was to make sure this sees another year. I’ve done that. What else do I want?
What’s wrong with me that I can’t take this for what it is—victory—and enjoy it? Why am I wired to feel like nothing is ever enough? I wanted to play in college, and I went D1. I wanted to win a championship—I did. I wanted to play professionally, and I did at one of the best clubs in the world. I came home to play for the PVF not knowing what to expect on a new team in a brand-new league, and we won the first-ever championship. Everything I’ve ever put my mind to, I’ve accomplished. So why does it feel like I’ve done nothing? That it all means nothing?
My mind jumps from one thing to the next.The money. I’m not exactly sure how much it will end up being after taxes and other bullshit, but it will definitely be enough for the deposit on an apartment. Knowing I have that in my back pocket brings a certain level of comfort to what Wyatt and I did last night. This fake dating thing has felt more like real dating for the last couple of months…I just haven’t been prepared to inspect what that means.
What happens if Wyatt regrets everything, and I lose my best friend—despite our pinky promise? What happens if we fake break up and are both in Houston and have to see each other? It’s a big city, but that doesn’t stop you from running into people at the grocery store. I know Audrey’s family found out she was seeing Noah when her sister saw them together at the movies. I love the area Wyatt is in. I probably would get anapartment close to here. We’d have to share the same H-E-B. At least I know that if I’m not with him next season, the Moons proved themselves and the stands will still be full without the Hurricanes. The residuals from this season’s win will be enough that our little stadium isn’t an empty fishbowl echoing around us.
We’re going to be on ESPN! My stomach does a little flip at that. At least if everything comes crashing down around me and Wyatt, I’ll still have the Moons.
I steel my resolve right then. If things go south with Wyatt, I’m not stuck here. I’m not damning this immediately, but it’s always good to have a backup plan.
“Good morning,” Wyatt says, his voice rough like coffee grounds. I swing my eyes from the ceiling to his face. “Sleep well?”
“Very,” I reply. Between the orgasms and the nice mattress and his comforting warmth, I slept way better in here then I have been across the hall.
He slings an arm over my stomach, lying on his side with a curious look on his face. “What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” I say evenly, trying to hide that I was basically rethinking my entire life.
He smiles like he knows he’s letting me get away with something, but leans to press a kiss to my still-bare shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget last night.”
I roll over to face him. “Me either.”
“What now?”
“What do you think?”
We’re already fake dating, it’s not that crazy to add sex into the mix. It’s almost the natural next step. There’s six more days until his brother’s wedding, and when we get on that plane back to Houston next Sunday, this whole thing will be over.One week of hot sex isn’t going to ruin a friendship if all of this hasn’t already.
Right?