“No, send me the address, and I’ll come get you,” Garrison offers.
“Okay, sharing my location with you now,” I whisper.
“Yeah, hon, get ready for one hell of a night because I’m going to wear you out.” With Garrison’s promise, I giggle like a girl into the phone, ending the call with his reply.
Being balls deep in him is the distraction I need, so by Monday morning at practice, I can look at Crush as just my friend. Yep, Garrison is what I need to fuck Crush out of my system.
6
Crush
I wander around Dallas’s estate, both inside and out, after Ry had taken a private phone call. I can’t find him. It’s as if he’s disappeared. All the men were giving him shit. “I bet you it’s a late-night booty call.” When Ry stood, he’d winked at us, and for some reason, the idea of him getting it on had filled me with rage. I had to cover up my jealousy by chiming in with the rest of the table with fake as fuck laughter.
My phone buzzes, and I smile at the incoming text.
Pretty Boy: Hey, something came up, and I’m getting ready to leave. Don’t worry, I have a ride. You don’t need to leave the party just for me. I’ll catch up with you on Monday.
This turns the grin I had on my face to an out-and-out frown, and since I’d been looking for his ass, I stalk to the front door just in time to see some man pull him into an embrace and kiss him in a way that can be R-rated at best.
I fumble for my phone and shoot off a reply.
Me: Sure, blow me off for a booty call. Have a good time. Make sure he wraps it.
When I hit send, I realize I come across as a jilted lover. Fuck, what the hell is he doing to my mind? I don’t have time to think, not when his return is quick.
Pretty Boy: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous. And I didn’t blow you off. I have a good friend who came into town at the last minute. See you Monday.
He’s called me out on every emotion I have surging through my body, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why and how I’ve let it get like this. I have unresolved feelings for my best friend. I’ve known the answer to this for years, but I don’t want to contemplate it for a second longer.
My entire disposition changes, and I’m not a person anyone wants to be around. It’s eight at night, and I say my good-byes and make it back to my house, and the silence is deafening.
Flipping through my contact list, I come across some girls who are down for a quick fuck, but even the thought of pushing into one of these girl’s pussies does nothing for my raging hard-on. But the thought of Ryder kissing the putz I had recognized as Garrison Fisher, a renowned sports reporter, triggers a combination of both pure anger and hunger at the same time. And it’s a hunger—a need to think of Ryder naked, dripping with sweat, hitting the showers.
Once I’m home, my erection is so excruciating and when I finally unlock my door, I don’t make it to my bedroom. Dropping my keys, I hold the wall near the entrance. I unbutton my shorts and pull my boxers down with my bottoms. My cock pops out, and as I watch the pre-cum glistening on the tip of it, I feel almost silly talking to it, but I do. “What in the world has gotten into you?” But the more I think of Ryder, undressing for me in my doorway, then leaning down on his knees and pulling my cock into his mouth, I barely need to stroke it. I’m slow, with each back and forth motion, and continue to think of more than just his body parts.
I want to be shocked over my reaction to Ryder, but it’s not the first time I’ve jacked off to the idea of Ryder’s lips on my dick, his fingers rimming my ass, or his tongue doing all sorts of naughty things to my body. I’ve told myself in the past, all my fantasies were solely due to him no longer being in my life, but now, I can’t say this. He’s back as my best friend, and it’s almost as if we’ve always been this way.
“You aren’t confused, are you?” I ask my dick, but no, my dick and my mind are on the same page. I have feelings and have known for some time that it’s not some schoolboy crush. I have intense feelings for my best friend. Fuck. Me!
A major news story breaks in the hockey world. Garrison the putz, which is his name from now on, represents one of the largest sports’ networks. It’s why he’s here. But it coincides with a fun night of friends with benefits, as Ry had explained his relationship the previous day.
My mind has been fucked since last night, plus Alison had taken Brooklyn out of town without my approval to punish me. Time with my daughter normally calms me, but it’s not an option.
I stomp to my truck, blaring the music, driving nowhere, anywhere just to escape the emptiness of my life. I’d been loyal and faithful to Alison in our marriage. Since her, I’ve had my share, not many but enough women to ward off my need for sex. But I’m lonely, and when Ryder’s arms were wrapped around another man’s neck, I finally realized who I’ve been waiting for.
It doesn’t occur to me I’m at Ry’s until my gaze falls upon his ultra-modern posh house like a fucking stalker. There’s no car in the driveway, and this fills me with confidence, a hope Garrison might not be here. Am I ready to admit what I’ve always known from our first kiss in the locker room so long ago?
I don’t think before I spring into action. A man on a mission, I climb out of my truck and walk to his door. One ring, and I hear footsteps approaching. I have a smile on my face at the idea of seeing Ryder, but it instantly deflates when my eyes fall on Garrison Fisher.
“Holy fuck, this is not something I see every day. Christopher fucking Crush Colton is standing in front of me. Man, we’ve met a couple of times, but I’m not sure you remember. I’m Garrison Fisher.”
How had he gotten back to Ryder’s so fast after the big news break and his piece on it? “Yeah, um, hi. I know who you are.” I’m not polite in my tone. I don’t care if he’s a big fan. He can find another quarterback to fanboy over, and maybe one who’s not in love with the man he’s fucking. Yeah, I said it, finally admitting it to myself. I wished Ry was there on the day of my daughter’s birth, and at every milestone. I had wanted to share all my firsts with him. It’s why I’ve been so mad. And why I’m jealous as fuck right now.
“Hey, where are my manners? Come on in, man. Let me get Ry for you.”
“Yeah, thanks, I’d appreciate it,” I reply. All my courage on the walk from the truck to the front door has deflated with the appearance of this putz in front of me.
I walk toward the couches we’d sat on while gaming the other night, and they are still as uncomfortable as fuck. All modern and not enough padding for a big guy like me. He stands at the entrance of Ryder’s master bedroom at the bottom of the steps. “Hey, Ry, can you come out here?” he calls.
I see the large arms of Ryder wrap around Garrison’s body. “What? Are you ready for me again, hon?” Ry is unable to see me from his angle, but I can see him as my hands tremble with rage.
“Um, no. Someone’s here to see you.” Garrison rotates his body, giving him a kiss, and it equally sends my blood to boiling. “I’ll give you some privacy. I need to make some calls. Can I use your office upstairs?”