The Jock (The Team, #1)

by Tal Bauer

He was one man, with one heart—and that heart belonged to Justin, while the world wanted it to belong to football. But it didn’t, and he couldn’t force it. He didn’t want to. He just wanted to love Justin. If the world ever found out… The loss of his scholarship would be the least of his worries. He ran his thumb over Justin’s selfie. Who am I when you love me? Who am I when I fall in love with you?

Every mom in the classroom was eyeing him up, long, lingering once-overs of the famous cowboy footballer trying to look inconspicuous in the ballet studio.

Wes pressed their bodies together so Justin could feel his erection, achingly hard against his belly. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Wes growled, right before he captured Justin’s lips with his own. They kissed in the darkness until they heard tires rolling on the pavement and broke apart right before headlights swept over them both. Justin wiped his lips and steadied himself, and Wes braced his forearms on the roof of Justin’s car and bowed his head. “I can’t think,” Wes croaked. “All the blood in my body is in my cock. I’ve never been this hard.” Justin jerked open his car door and pushed the front seat forward. “Get in the back. Now.”

Wes leaned forward and kissed him, licking his own spilled come.

“That’s exactly what it felt like.” Wes stretched and popped his back. “Let’s take my truck if we ever need to go on a road trip. That’s not a car. It’s a jack-in-the-box.” “Deal.” “Do you have plans later tonight?” Wes asked, almost shy. “Wes, you’re my plans. You’re my boyfriend. I don’t do anything without you. I don’t want to do anything without you.” Wes bit his lip and grinned. “Okay. Then get in your jack-in-the-box car and follow me.”

Wes pulled a single red rose from behind his back. He twirled it in his fingers and smiled. “Tu es mon plus grand amour.” You are the love of my life.

Wes stood stock-still, not knowing how to move or what to do. “God, I want you all the time, too.” It was like an itch he could never scratch, a thirst he could never quench. He ached for Justin, and no matter how many times he jacked off thinking about Justin, or remembering being inside Justin, he still couldn’t calm himself down. He was like a live wire, a gun ready to fire, every moment. One look from Justin and he was half hard, right in the middle of campus.

He peeled Justin’s jeans down his thighs, then pushed his legs straight back so he could bury his face in Justin’s ass.

Colton called him an asshole and then never brought up Justin’s name again. Had he forgotten the whole thing? Forgotten, so easily, the man who meant everything in the world to Wes? What if he’d told Colton the truth? His secrets clawed at his insides, made his guts ache.

Justin. I play my heart and soul out for him. “You know, I just always worked hard. Football is a job like any other, and I put in the work.” “And this year? What’s put you over the top?” I fell in love. He flushed. “Just hard work, ma’am. Putting in those hours at practice. Always staying focused on that end goal and keeping your eyes on what you want most.” College. Graduation. Justin. A life together.

What would the world say if Wes walked away from it all, turned his back on the NFL and millions of dollars? Moved in with Justin and started playing gay house?

“In fact, I want a sexually frustrated tight end on Saturday! Someone who is gonna pound the shit out of Mississippi’s defense!”

At the bottom of the stairs, Wes scooped Justin into his arms. Justin yelped but threw his arms around Wes’s neck and tipped his head back. “Oh, cowboy, are you going to carry me to bed?” “Of course.” He grinned. “Gotta practice, you know?” “Practice?” “To carry you over the threshold the day I marry you.”

Friday morning, their perfect world imploded.

That’s Wes Van de Hoek, holding hands with his boyfriend, right in the center of Paris.

The perfect day for the end of everything. No more football. No more scholarship. No more college. No more future.

Fuck, we’ll paint the locker room rainbow if you want. Orlando has already texted me a link to order everyone rainbow sweatbands. Like, that’s not an issue, at all. I swear.” “Please don’t paint the locker room. That’s a horrible idea.” “What are you talking about? It’s a great idea.” “No way, dude. Come on.”

It still left Justin breathless sometimes, how the love of his life had simply waltzed into his life in the middle of Paris. He’d gone around the world to find adventure, and he’d found a football-playing cowboy who stole his heart and ran away with it. Well, Wes could keep it. He could keep it for the rest of his life.

Could a team shatter and reform, return to the heights of glory that they had touched together? Justin could feel the expectancy inside the stadium.

The entire line exploded upward, two thousand pounds of raging linemen moving as one, thundering right through the Mississippi defense. They put each defender in the dirt, toppled them on their asses, and then kept going, charging the linebackers. The linebackers and the corners froze. This wasn’t a play from any playbook, and they had no idea how to react to it, to an all-out offensive charge. They shifted left and then right, trying to track the ball as the full fury of Wes’s teammates bore down on them.

“Graham Van de Hoek.” Graham shook his hand. “It seems our boys are in love.” His dad laughed. “They are very much in love.” He gestured toward the door to the suite. “The second half is about to start. Join us?” “I’d love to. Thank you.” Graham tipped his head like he was tipping his hat, exactly like Wes did. Justin’s heart squeezed.

“That’s my boy,” he said. “That’s my boy. You show them, son. You show them who you are.”

Graham held on, through every brutal minute. “Don’t you worry, Justin,” Graham said. “This game is already won. Wes won it. His team won’t let him down now. You watch. Those boys are playing for more than a title right now.”

Wes held Justin tight. “I did it for you. I won for you, so the world could see how much I love you.”

Wes took the football in both of his hands. He faced Justin and breathed in. “This is the ball I scored the last touchdown with.” He held it out. Justin wrapped his hands around it, cradling it like he was touching Wes’s beating heart.

Wes dropped to one knee in the grass. “I promise you, Justin, that I will love you and cherish you as hard as I play this game. Harder, even.” He grinned. “I want to spend every day for the rest of my life loving you. What do you say? Can I be yours? And will you be mine?”

He dropped to his knees in front of Wes and kissed him. “Bien sûr, cowboy,” he s...