For the fans, p.42
For The Fans, page 42
But you won’t find me complaining. I might never shower alone again.
Squirting out some of my body wash into my hands, I lather up and run them over his muscles, loving the feel of him beneath my fingers. He watches me while I wash him, blinking droplets of water from his lashes that tumble down his puffy lips.
It’s an image that will be seared in my mind for a very, very long time.
I savor the act of caressing soap onto every inch of him, taking my time like I didn’t get to when we last showered together; touching his shoulders and arms, down his perfectly sculpted chest and abs. His big, beautiful dick gets much more attention from my fingers, before I move on to his legs and feet. Then I spin him and do his back, unable to keep from purring while I clean his ass.
His head drops back to rest on my shoulder, panting breaths echoing inside the small enclosure. When the soap rinses off, I just have to kiss his neck and his shoulders, running my fingers through his wet hair.
“You feel… so good,” he breathes. “I’ve never been touched the way you touch me, Avi.”
“I’ve never touched anyone the way I touch you…” I confess to him in a whisper, awed by how it feels to have my hands on him in a way that isn’t building to sex.
He turns slowly, taking the bottle. “My turn?”
I nod timidly, watching him as he does what he wants with me, washing my body with cherishing fingers, cleaning every aching muscle, every burn of chafed skin. I can’t stop staring at the way he’s examining me, wondrous gaze traveling the same route as his hands.
“This is… too good, Kyran.” My eyes fall shut when he presses his wet chest to mine, fingers running up my sides. Too good to be true…
“Is there such a thing as too good?” he breathes.
Yes… I think there is such a thing as too good.
Because no matter how high your soul soars, the fear of heartache always waits for you back down on the ground.
“I don’t know…” I grasp his jaw and bring his mouth quickly to mine, kissing him impatiently while I can, because I’m so damn scared this heat will run cold. “This is different, baby,” I hum in between frantic kisses. “Tell me it’s different for you too…”
He nods fast while our lips chase the high. “It’s different. It is.”
“What does it mean?” I hate the desperation in my tone.
I don’t want to be the one freaking out over this, but I am. I’m teetering, not knowing where he stands. Not knowing if this will last… Not knowing fucking anything other than how I feel about him, which is so spectacularly inconvenient it makes me shiver down to my bones even while standing under hot water.
“I don’t… I don’t know.” His voice shakes a little, and it kills me, because I don’t want him to be afraid.
We can’t both be afraid… it’ll never work. I want him to know for both of us, but I just don’t think he does.
It sucks.
“I wish I had answers, Avi, but I’m completely fucked up here…” he whispers.
“Do you want to stay?” I ask quietly.
He nods.
And the looming question fights its way up my throat. “Would you still want to… if someone knew you were here?”
Kyran seals himself to me, hands gripping my back as his forehead drops to mine. “I… I think so.”
My chest opens up like a bloom for him.
I think so…
Okay. I can work with I think so.
Kissing him for many more minutes, I eventually turn off the water and hop out, grabbing us both towels. I’m not going to press this any more right now, because I don’t want to stress him out.
He wants to stay. That’s a gift I’ll gladly accept.
We both dry off side by side, my eyes falling to my toothbrush. I remember him using it this morning, and a grin tugs at my lips. Peeking at Kyran, I find him staring at himself in the mirror, blinking at his reflection. The blankness in his eyes kills my smile quickly, and I just watch him for a moment.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him do this… Stare at himself in the mirror; gawk at his own body, his limbs, as if he’s never seen them before. It’s like he’s an alien wearing human skin… An Edgar suit, if you will.
It’s strange, and I really don’t know what to make of it. But after a few minutes of silence, he’s starting to freak me out a little.
“Ky…” I rumble, a dash of worry in my tone.
He blinks hard, then turns his face in my direction, all traces of that vacant stare having vanished. “Yea?”
“Are you… alright?” I ask softly, keeping my expression casual, so as not to let him on to my concern for his sudden spaciness.
He puffs out an exhale, then grins, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Fine. Why?”
“No reason…” I shake my head. “You wanna wear some of my clothes?”
“’Kay,” he sighs, his smile becoming a little less wooden.
Forcing myself not to dwell on it, I bring him back into the bedroom, rustling him up a pair of boxer briefs from inside my dresser. He steps into them, then saunters over to the bed, stripping the dirty sheets off. I can’t help but just stare at him while he does it.
He seems like he’s fully comfortable being here, but then who would really know? Kyran has always been a bit of a closed book, so it’s hard to tell what’s going on in his head at any given moment. I’d like to think I’ve gotten to know him more over the last few weeks, but even so, he’s not usually one to voice his emotions.
He keeps them bottled up inside, which is never a good thing when you’re developing strong feelings for the bottler.
What are you hiding inside that pretty head of yours, baby?
Will it have you running from me again?
“You didn’t have to make my bed for me.” I fold my arms over my chest while he secures the clean sheets on my mattress.
“Well, you’re kind of a slob.” He shoots me a smirk. “I just wanted to make sure it got done right.”
“Excuse you,” I huff. “I am very clean.”
“Right…” He chuckles. “You’re about as clean as The Dude.”
My laughter brings a sweet curve to his lips. Spinning, he traipses out of the room, and I have no choice but to follow him.
“Are you going to put on actual clothes?” I grin, biting my lip at the sight of his perfect peach of a booty in my black Calvins and nothing else.
“Are you complaining?” He pins me with a sly look before plopping onto the couch, grabbing the TV remote.
“That doesn’t sound like something I would do.” I sit down next to him while he chuckles.
We’re both on one cushion because Robin is currently snoozing on the other side, taking up a majority of the couch. Kyran glances at her and scoffs, shaking his head, though he’s smiling pleasantly while he searches for something for us to watch. He stops on one of the ESPN channels I didn’t even know I had.
“I’m starving.” His face slopes. “Will you order us some food?”
“Happy to.”
I rush off to get my phone. And when I return to the room, I find him petting Robin’s furry little head while she sleeps.
I’m swooning so hard, I’m like the heart-eyed emoji personified.
“What would you like to eat, gorgeous thing?” I kneel next to him on the couch while swiping through DoorDash. “Burgers, tacos… Ooh my God, this place makes the best fried chicken…”
“Avi, can we please eat something healthy?” he whines. “I have a massively important game next week. I don’t want to be weighed down by all the junk food I consume when I’m with you.”
“Weighed down??” I huff a baffled chuckle. “Your body is fucking insane, Kyran. You’re probably like, what… seven percent body fat?” He frowns at me, and I blink. “I’m sorry… Is that too much?”
“For me, yes,” he grunts. “I need to be in prime shape for this game. No fucking around.”
“Okay, well, we did just spend eighteen hours burning tons of calories, so I think you’ll be fine.” I smirk, and he returns the look with one of faux amusement.
“Just no fast food or excessive trans fats, please.” He curls himself around me, dropping kisses all over my neck. “For me?”
“Fine,” I grumble. “You see what I do for you?? What do you want to eat, babe?”
“Mmm… Sushi?”
I make a face, but I concede… because they do have those delicious fried pork dumplings. I could just order, like, fifty of those.
“Sushi it is, for my chiseled man and all eight of his friends.” I poke each one of his abs, and he growls, slapping my hand away.
“You joke, but sushi actually has a lot of starch,” he points out, and I just stare blankly at him. “From the rice…”
“Ah, the rice,” I tease, and he chuckles, play smacking me on the jaw.
Then I smack him back. And this goes on for minutes before I finally call a truce so I can order his damn sushi.
“Can we not watch this?” I complain some more, propped with my back against the arm of the couch while he lies between my legs, playing with my hands. “It’s boring. I’m sure MTV is running episodes of Catfish on a loop…”
When he doesn’t answer me, I peer down to where he’s gazing at my palm, running his fingertip along the center.
“I have this line too,” he whispers. “Except mine curves around here… Like the way Comm Ave runs up over campus.”
I give him a puzzled look, but he doesn’t notice it. Because he’s too busy studying the lines on my palm.
“Do you read palms or something?” I ask, bemused. “Because that would be very uncharacteristic of you.”
His eyes flit to mine, and he tilts his head as if he’s considering whether or not to tell me something. He smiles shyly, scooting up farther between my legs.
“Promise not to make fun of me?” His lashes flutter, and he bites his lip.
I’m barely breathing right now. “I promise.”
Lifting his hand, he turns his palm to face me. “Sometimes I do this thing where I imagine the lines on my palm are streets I know. See? Like this one can be 93, or the Pike.” He drags his fingertip up a line, then points to another. “This one is Hyland. See here, how it splits off like College Ave over by Davis Square? And you can follow it into Cambridge…”
The way his eyes are sort of lit up over this has me reeling.
I’m not sure why, when, or how he ever started doing this, but it’s safe to say I’m completely mesmerized by it. And by the mere fact that he’s sharing it with me…
This strange little quirk, this peculiar, fully adorable vulnerability that I’m almost positive he’s never shared with anyone before.
I can’t even find words to speak, and my silence must trip him up, because he glances at me, unease framing his hazel eyes. “I’m a total weirdo, right? It’s okay, you can just say it…”
“Oh…” I shake my head, grabbing him by the wrists before he can squirm away in humiliation. “Ohh no, no, no. This is so very bad… Is superstar quarterback Kyran Harbor cute??” I gasp, and his visible dread retreats, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This is going to make it virtually impossible for me to ever hate you again!”
His grin widens while I kiss both of his palms. But he bites it away, forcing one of his scowls. “I’m sure if you try real hard, you can find your way back there.”
“Nope. Please don’t grouch all over this new image I have of you,” I hum, and he chuckles, trying to rip his hands away. But I won’t let him. “Seriously, this is detrimental, Kyran. If you’re not careful, you might just weasel your way out of enemy territory and into the land of friends.”
Slowly releasing my grip, I lower his hands onto my chest, and he takes one of mine back, drawing more lines over my palm.
“And what happens… when you leave that place?” He peeks up at me for a split second before returning to my hand, a nervous, almost innocent air about him while he chews on his bottom lip. “Is that the end of the line? Friend Land?”
My heart is lurching slowly up my throat as I shake my head. “I think there might be another place. But… no one’s ever been there.” He blinks wide eyes at me. “It’s pretty vacant.”
“Like an abandoned amusement park?” he murmurs quietly, and I nod.
“Yea. I’ve never met anyone who just… went there willingly.”
“If I wanted to go…” he says, barely audibly with his lips shivering mere inches from mine. “Would you take me?”
I can barely even fathom what we’re talking about… What we’re dancing around like two relationship virgins, too terrified to say the actual words.
But my pulse is racing, and my fingers are twitching with what I think he’s asking me.
“If you were sure…” I whisper, the air around us growing hazy with something other than lust. Something deeper and scarier… More potent. “If you were… comfortable going there…” I gulp. “It would be your call, Ky. Because there’s absolutely no way I could keep you out.”
He makes a soft noise, inching up to my lips to press the sweetest, most unsure confession of a kiss on my mouth. In an instant, we’re both panting, hands clasped together while our lips move in mutual apprehension.
Is this really what he wants…?
Could Kyran Harbor actually want to be more than just my stepbrother who hates me, my business partner, or even my friend?
It’s always seemed impossible to consider, but here we are… Kissing and touching, and it has absolutely nothing to do with sex, or money. This is about emotion, which we seem to have spilling over at the moment.
It’s been happening slowly for a while… this change that suddenly seems so drastic.
We don’t hate each other. Far from it.
In fact, I think we might…
My phone starts ringing, startling us both out of the reverie we were working up to together. Kyran crawls back, breathing heavily while I answer the phone.
“H-hello?” I stutter, trying to shake myself out of it.
“Yea, hey, it’s DoorDash,” a guy says over the phone. “I’m downstairs.”
“Shit… fuck.” I jump up, darting into the bedroom to put on actual clothes. “Sorry. I’ll be right down.”
The guy chuckles at my cursing, but I hang up before he can say anything else, slipping my hat on my head and stepping into my sneakers.
“The food’s here,” I tell Kyran on my way to the door. “I’ll be right back.”
He nods, staring at nothing with his bottom lip pinched between his thumb and forefinger, as if he’s deeply reeling from what just happened.
I’m sure he is. It was very intense.
But I don’t have time to think about it right now, because I need to go grab his food.
Downstairs, I find a guy with a plastic bag standing in the lobby. He’s pretty young… Actually, he looks like he might be in college himself, though I don’t recognize him.
He smirks as I stalk over, taking the bag from him.
“Sorry about that.” I flash him a smile that’s only slightly flustered.
“Don’t worry about it.” His own grin widens a bit, and I’m frozen in place for a second, because call me crazy, but is he giving me the flirty eyes?
The dude glances up at my hat, narrowing his gaze as he slowly looks me over.
Okay, this is weird. Is he checking me out?? I need to leave.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, face lighting up. “It’s you! Hey!”
My eyebrow arches, and I give him a look like he might be a li’l loco. “Uh… I’m sorry. Have we met?”
“No, no.” He chuckles, keeping his voice down as he leans in closer. “I subscribe to your OnlyFans.”
All the color drains from my face. I feel it happening as I stand there, frozen, clutching a bag of takeout.
“I’m obsessed with your content,” he goes on, having a little fanboy moment. And I’m freaking the fuck out inside. “I love you and Not_Your_Baby together.” He glances around the room. “Are you with him right now??”
Something snaps me back into focus, and I shake my head, forcing the most polite smile I can manage while I back away from him slowly. “Um… yea. I mean, no! No, I’m… Hey, thanks for the food. It’s always great to… meet a… fan.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before I’m turning and high-tailing it out of there. I almost make it to the elevator, but a familiar female voice stops me.
“Avi!”
Whipping around, my eyes bug out of my head at Frankie, who’s clomping over to me in her black furry boots.
“Shhh!” I look to the door where my fan is leaving, throwing another excited grin my way.
“What’s your problem?” Frankie huffs.
“Jesus fucking Christ, my name… You said my name.” I rub my eyes. “He probably heard you. Now he’s gonna tell everyone. Oh God, fuck me.”
“Who heard me? Why are you freaking out…” She pushes the button for the elevator. “Did you already talk to Zeb??”
I give her a puzzled look. “No. Why… What happened to Zeb?”
“Nothing happened to him,” she whispers, looking around before she says, “Look, I came here to talk to you. Shit might be hitting the fan a little…”
There’s a very sickening feeling of unease slinking around my gut as the elevator pings and I step inside, pressing the button for my floor. “I really wish you would’ve called first…”
“I tried texting you.” She follows me inside. “You didn’t answer.” She leans up against the wall while the doors slowly close. “Why did you leave before midnight last night?? Were you going to meet up with Kyran?”
I don’t even have the energy to lie or make up some story right now, sighing, “Yea. He came over. And he’s still here, so you can’t stay.”
Frankie gasps, her mouth stretching into an elated smile as she does this little hop. “Oh my God, are you two in love?!”
“What?! No!” I hiss. “Shut up, okay?? Don’t pull that shit in front of him. He’ll totally freak out.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She nods, visibly collecting herself, though she’s still shimmying around while the elevator comes to a stop. “But he spent the night! That has to mean something, Avi. You guys aren’t just fucking anymore.”
