Power Plays & Straight A's - Eden Finley Page 0,68

At least not for my sake. It’s a big step, and it has to be harder for you than it was for me.”

“Because I’m an athlete?”

He chuckles. “No, because you’re not gay. Gay is simple. Straight is simple. Bi is seen as more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Exactly!”

“If it makes you feel any better, there are more bi people than gay and lesbian people combined, but only about twenty-six percent come out. According to stats anyway.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better. Like, at all.”

“Stats always make me happy.”

“Yeah, but when you point out that only twenty-six percent of bi people come out because the rest of the world can’t be bothered to educate themselves on what being bi means … it’s shitty.”

“Sorry. It was supposed to make you feel not so alone.”

I kiss the top of his head. “Thanks for trying.”

“If you do want to come out and want support or whatever, I can go with you. Or, I mean, Seth would too. You’re closer with him, so it’d make more sense—”

Leaning in, I capture his rambling mouth with my lips. “I’ll think about it.”

But honestly, throwing it in the to do later basket is much more appealing.

26

Zach

“Foster …”

He grunts but doesn’t look away from the laptop on the desk in front of him.

“Foster …” I roll onto my back on the bed, sliding his shirt up over my stomach. Since I discovered his fascination with my superhero underwear, they’re basically all I wear when we’re alone, which is more and more lately. “Ironman wants to say hello.”

That gets him. His lips twitch up at the sides, but with willpower as impressive as his hockey skills, he keeps his eyes on the screen.

I slide from the bed and cross to his desk chair. Foster automatically pushes back, and I climb into his lap before he slides us both closer to his desk. His lips brush my hair as I tuck my face into his neck.

“Almost done,” he says.

“Well, I’m going to start sucking on your neck, and if you end up with another hickey that’s on you.”

His laugh is low and rumbly against my chest. “The guys are starting to give me shit. I’m not sure I’ll survive another one.”

I hide my smile against his shoulder. The thought of his team teasing him over me awakens something similar to how I feel when he’s being all claimy. Dating Foster has been something I never knew I wanted, and I’m a little terrified about what happens when this ends. I’ve always been sure of things, but having something this out of my control is unnerving. “I could potentially suck on something else …”

Foster wraps an arm tight around my waist. “Yes. Always yes.”

So I do. On my knees under the desk I work him over until I’ve successfully pulled his attention from whatever he’s studying. He’s so big, and I haven’t figured out deep-throating yet, but I’ve had enough practice over the last few weeks that I am determined to master this thing. And when Foster grunts and comes down my throat, hands tangled in my hair, we lock eyes and something settles inside me.

I’m happy.

This relationship business is a lot easier to understand now that I’ve had practical experience. Foster pulls me back onto his lap.

“Ironman, eh?” He shifts me up until I’m kneeling on his thighs, gripping his shoulders for dear life, and returns the favor. Unlike me, my boyfriend has well and truly mastered deep-throating. It takes him next to no time to set me off.

When I settle back on his thighs, Foster grabs my head and kisses me deep. It’s consuming when he gets like this, as though he can’t get enough of me.

“I love coming back to find you in my bed.”

“Technically, I was sitting on the floor.” I nod toward where my laptop and textbook rest.

“And in my shirt.”

“It’s comfortable.”

“It feels better with you here.”

I give him a dry look. “It’s because I put the heat on, isn’t it?”

“It’s so warm in here.” He smiles. “I haven’t seen you much the last few days.”

“I know.” I rest my head against his. “Dumb hockey. Dumb thesis.”

“Agreed. You understand though … that I can’t blow off practice?”

“Yeah, of course. And”—I bite the inside of my cheek—“the thing is, when I’m busy, time becomes the last thing I worry about. I don’t realize how much I’ve missed you until I’m with you again.”

Foster narrows his eyes as his hands tighten on my hips. “That almost sounds like