SWNOVELS The Star: Chapter 7
Riley in the kitchen.
It wasn’t even a near thing.
When he finally finished up with Logan’s advice, he came back in and smelled something delicious.
It didn’t happen to be Riley, but it did happen to be whatever Riley was cooking.
“Perfect timing,” Riley said as he pulled a casserole dish out of the oven. “Let’s eat.”
They ate in front of the TV, but this time, Landry, sensing that Riley didn’t need any more football on his mind, put on a mindless movie with lots and lots of explosions.
Then, afterwards, they went to bed.
Separately.
Landry told himself he was not disappointed and meant it.
Mostly.
But of course, instead of actually going to sleep, he lay in bed and played out the conversation he’d had with Logan over and over in his mind.
Just tell him, Logan had said. Except it wasn’t all that easy. Because if he told Riley, I think I like you, it wouldn’t just be a fleeting thing. Not for him, and hopefully not for Riley, either. It wouldn’t just be scratching a convenient itch.
Speaking of itches…well, he was feeling one now.
For Riley freaking Flynn.
What he needed was something to distract him from the burning irritation just under his skin. The one he wasn’t going to scratch. Because Riley was just down the hall, and that felt…really not okay. They were friends. Even though the image of Riley’s sweatpants-clad ass was burned behind his eyelids and he couldn’t seem to clear it.
Landry grabbed his phone from the charger, deciding he just needed something else.
Of course that was when he remembered what else Logan had suggested. You can look at it later when you’re alone.
Clearly, Riley’s Instagram feed wasn’t going to solve his problem, but then Landry wasn’t a hundred percent convinced he wanted it solved.
He clicked the app open, and after that, it was easy enough to find Riley’s account.
The moment it opened, he dropped the phone, then had to scramble to pick it right back up again.
The last photo Riley had posted was a selfie. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—or probably anything else either, if where the photo cut off was any indication—and his entire tanned torso was on full display. Landry’s fingers trembled on the edges of his phone.
He wanted to know what Riley looked like just past those insane ridges of his abs. Wanted to see Riley shoot him that hungry, hot stare with those incredible sea-blue eyes.
No wonder Logan had just about swallowed his tongue when Landry had told him.
Riley-sexual, that’s what you are.
The itch intensified until it felt like a live wire just under his skin.
He shifted uncomfortably in his very comfortable bed. Would it be wrong to just…try it? Wrong to just slide his hand down, where his cock was hard and aching, pressing against his briefs?
It didn’t feel so wrong right now.
It felt like the most natural thing in the whole fucking world.
And yet, Riley was just down the hallway. Believing he’d helped Landry out tonight, giving him that much-needed pep talk and then cooking him freaking dinner.
He’d been a generous friend, and how was Landry going to pay him back?
By creeping onto his Instagram and jerking off to his selfies.
Landry tossed the phone on the bed and groaned, scrubbing a hand across his face.
No matter how much he wanted it—and he wanted it really goddamn bad, thank you very much—he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t.
But he just couldn’t lay here either and be tempted by it.
He pushed himself out of bed and opened the door into the hallway.
The house felt dark and quiet. Riley was probably sleeping soundly, with no idea of the kind of quandary Landry was going through.
Stepping into the hallway, he thought he was safe.
He’d just go downstairs, have a cold drink of water, and think of anything but the way Riley had looked in that post.
He was so preoccupied trying not to think about Riley—Riley grinning up at him, with that knowing look in his eyes, Riley reaching for him, Riley naked—that he didn’t notice until the last moment the bathroom light was on.
Then it wasn’t.
And then Riley was in the hall, too.
Naked.
Okay, with a towel draped around his waist.
But he was naked enough.
“Oh, oh,” Landry stammered, stopping in his tracks.
Fucking Logan.
He’d suggested this earlier, and Landry had thought even the idea of it was insane.
Hot, but insane.
You could catch him in the hallway right after a shower, you know, when he’s wearing just a towel.
However, staring at Riley now, it felt a little less insane. A lot hotter, too.
The night light he’d put in next to the top of the stairs illuminated Riley just enough.
Just enough that Landry could see all that bare skin.
The bare skin he’d just been attempting to erase from his uncooperative brain.
Riley frowned. But didn’t move.
Landry’s gaze was stuck right where Riley’s hands held the towel closed. If it slid another inch lower, he might see everything he’d fantasized about when he’d stared at that selfie.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Riley asked.
Somehow, it was worse that it wasn’t just Landry feeling this way.
“Uh, no, not really.” Landry wet his lips. Realized, just as Riley’s gaze caught on his own body, that he wasn’t exactly fully clothed either.
They had exactly a towel and a pair of briefs between them and total nakedness in this dark hallway.
Like this was going to help him sleep any better.
He cleared his throat. “Nervous about the game?”
Riley was still staring at his chest.
Did it have Sorry, I almost jerked off to you written across it in bright red letters?
Landry wouldn’t have been surprised.
“I guess,” Riley said. “Couldn’t get my brain to settle, so I thought a hot shower might help.”
As if he needed any more reminders that Riley was wet and naked and right fucking there.
In the semi-darkness, he looked even better than he did in the daylight. That should’ve been impossible, but maybe it was because right now, Landry could reach out and pull him close. Touch him the way he’d imagined he wanted to back in bed.
“It help?” If he took a shower, it was definitely going to have to be of the cold variety.
Ice fucking cold.
“No,” Riley said, chuckling humorlessly.
“Oh.”
“What were you doing?” Riley asked.
God, what had he been doing?
He didn’t know anything. His brain was one long litany of: Riley, naked, skin, smooth, muscles, touch, want.
“I…uh…yeah…water,” Landry croaked.
Riley smiled. “Right. You enjoy that water. I’m gonna…” He gestured towards the bedroom door behind Landry. “Try to sleep, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
The door to the guest bedroom was behind him, and he realized it a second too late because then Riley was brushing against him as he walked past, leaving every hair on Landry’s body raised with electricity.
It was just Riley’s arm brushing against his own bare arm, but it not only totally banished the idea of grabbing a cold drink of water, but every good intention he’d ever had.
The moment Riley’s door was closed, he moved, heading back down the hallway to his bedroom, feet carrying him fast, every molecule of his body focused on only one thing.
Being alone.
The moment he slammed the door shut behind him, Landry fell against it, and this time, he didn’t hesitate.
He reached down and groaned under his breath as his palm rubbed over his cock.
What would it feel like if it was Riley touching him like this?
How would it feel if he got to touch Riley like this?
Landry’s head hit the back of the door as he continued rubbing himself. He was so worked up, so ready, had been for what felt like days, but truthfully, he’d felt this desperate since the moment Riley had pulled off his helmet weeks ago.
But ever since he’d seen that particular picture?
Now, the want was somehow a need.
He closed his eyes, and it wasn’t difficult at all to remember it perfectly. Every pixel of it was emblazoned in his brain.
Riley had smelled so good as he’d walked past him in the hallway. He’d have smelled even better up close if Landry had sunk to his knees and tugged the towel away and worshiped the cut lines of his abs, then lower, at the crease of his thigh, and then even lower still, where Landry imagined he’d been hard and ready for him.
He’d never been interested in another man’s cock before, but there was no denying he was incredibly interested in Riley’s.
He wanted to touch it, to smell it, to taste it. He wanted to slide it into his mouth and feel the way Riley vibrated at the sheer pleasure of it. He was desperate to know how Riley’s skin felt under his tongue, at how he might shake with need if Landry teased him.
As he stroked his cock over his briefs, the fabric making him more sensitive, not less, he imagined Riley surprising him just like this.
The way his impossibly blue eyes would darken and heat up. Just like molten glass. The way he’d reach for Landry.
He’d tremble against Landry as they kissed.
Then shiver as Landry pinned him back against the door and touched him in every way he could imagine.
Maybe he didn’t have any experience making a guy feel good, but he’d gratefully learn at the altar of Riley’s body. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard; after all, he knew how to make himself feel good.
He was doing it right now, stroking harder and faster, and a moment later, thinking of the way Riley might taste ripe on his lips, his orgasm hit him.
Landry’s hands shook as he came down from the high.
That had been so good—so goddamn amazing, in fact—he couldn’t even fathom how much better it might’ve been if it hadn’t just been all his imagination.
Told you so.
Paige’s text to the one Riley had sent the night before came through just as they finished the walk-through the night before the game.
His first game.
His nerves vibrated not only with anxiousness at the importance of his performance tomorrow, but at the whole situation with Landry.
He knew what that undeniable tension was between them.
After he’d resisted every urge to just grab the reins on the situation and admit he suspected why Landry was having his sexual awakening.
Touch him the way Landry clearly wanted to touch.
But he hadn’t because what if he was wrong?
What if it fucked everything up?
He hadn’t worked this hard to just throw it all away because his dick was hard for one of his teammates.
After their hallway run-in, he’d returned to his room, hard and aching underneath the towel, and stretching out on the bed, he’d typed out a text to Paige.
The hours she kept meant she probably wouldn’t reply right away—working as an assistant to a costume designer on one of the big soaps meant she had late nights and even earlier mornings, and often she was too busy for big stretches to even surface for air. But eventually, she would, and she’d see his message.
I think your two weeks might’ve been conservative, Riley sent.
And now she’d finally replied.
Told you so.
Yeah, she had. She’d tried, anyway, and he’d brushed off her certainty because he’d still been trying to pretend Landry was straight.
But now he couldn’t anymore because Landry wasn’t pretending anymore.
Maybe it was inevitable something would happen between them.
“You look fucking dialed in. You looking up how to demolish the Commanders on your phone, huh?”
Riley glanced up. Carter was standing in front of him, grinning annoyingly.
“No,” he said. “I was texting a friend.”
“A friend that’s a girl?” Carter leaned in, leering a little. “Thought you were into something a little different.”
“No, you thought I was into Landry.” The most obnoxious part of Carter was that he wasn’t a total moron and apparently had at least one observational molecule in his brain because he’d guessed Riley’s crush embarrassingly quickly.
You can’t call it a crush. You had a crush at fifteen. At sixteen. At eighteen.
But he was twenty-four now, and it was definitely not just a crush anymore.
Back then, he wouldn’t have known exactly what he wanted to do to Landry—what he’d want Landry to do to him—but now? He was familiar with all the intimate, explicit details.
It wasn’t just sex; he wanted more, too. He wanted to sit on Landry’s couch and for Landry to put an arm around him, to tug him close, just feel him against his side. Big and steady and loyal. Wanted Landry to always have his back. Craved the thought of Landry telling Aidan to fuck off, even though if it ever became one hundred percent necessary, he was capable of doing it himself. Dreamed of him just standing there as Riley did it himself, encouraging him with every moment he didn’t try to defend Aidan’s overbearing behavior.
Imagined throwing Landry a touchdown pass tomorrow and how right it would feel to celebrate in the end zone with him.
Riley already knew it wouldn’t feel the same as if he tossed one to Carter.
“You wanted me to be him just now,” Carter said. Still grinning obnoxiously. “You know it, don’t even try to pretend.”
“So you say,” Riley retorted.
“You’re always looking for him. In the locker room. On the field. The sideline,” Carter said.
“I do not,” Riley said, even though he had a terrible sinking feeling Carter wasn’t wrong.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket. “You feel good about tomorrow?”
Carter shrugged. “I guess. We’ve won one preseason game and lost another. But this’ll be our first with you under center. No idea what’s gonna happen.”
Riley didn’t either, and that was nerve-wracking.
Maybe that was why he kept seeking Landry’s figure out today.
He felt like something steady when he’d been dropped into the eye of a hurricane.
But even as he thought it, he knew that wasn’t right either. He wanted to see Landry because he was Landry.
Yeah, not just a crush. He could imagine Paige telling him that bluntly.
It wasn’t like he’d needed her tough love to convince him, but he couldn’t deny her words were opening up his eyes.
Something was going to happen.
The only question was what and when.
“You wanna go out with me? Sneak out of the hotel? Find something to take your mind off…” Carter gestured around. “All this?”
“No, no thanks, I’m good.” Riley shot him a look he hoped was tough. “And neither will you.”
“What?” Carter exclaimed, sounding disappointed.
“Nope. We’re both gonna go up to our rooms and stay in them until tomorrow morning.”
“You’re the worst,” Carter said. “I thought, you know, Riley Flynn, he’s Aidan’s little bro. He’ll be fun to have around. Not a total buzzkill.”
“I’m not here to be fun. I’m here to win football games.” It was the truth. And really, it didn’t sting that Carter had compared him to his brother. Because winning the game tomorrow would take all that pain away.
“Fine, fine,” Carter grumbled. “Let’s go up to our rooms then. You think they’ll get pissed if I order porn?”
Riley didn’t know and decided he didn’t want to ask. He shrugged.
“Ah, well, there’s always Pornhub,” Carter said as they headed towards the elevator bank at the team hotel.
“Right.” Riley wasn’t going to think about porn or sex because if he did, maybe he’d be tempted, even a little bit, to pull a Carter Maxwell and sneak out.
And not just sneak out, but sneak into Landry’s room.
Landry watched as Riley disappeared into the elevator with Carter and tried very hard not to glower about it.
First, because if Riley really liked Carter, then that was a hard reality he was going to have to get used to.
Second, if he did, someone might see, and they might put two and two together and get four. And while that might be the correct answer, it was already hard enough dealing with Deacon and Jem teasing him.
It certainly didn’t help they were right.
Landry scanned the dwindling number of players in the ballroom, everyone heading off to do their normal pre-game routine and knew what he should do.
What he should do was go to his room, take a long, hot shower, and mentally prepare for the game tomorrow. Visualize himself catching passes. Blocking well and protecting Riley’s flank.
What he wanted to do was not the same. He wanted to do some visualizations of an entirely different nature.
If he went back to his room alone, it seemed inevitable that he’d lose what was left of his normally strong self-control and touch himself again with a vision of Riley in his head.
Inwardly, he groaned.
He’d worked hard this morning so things wouldn’t be awkward after last night.
But still, when he’d faced Riley for the first time after coming his brains out, thinking about touching him, thinking about the way his body might feel under his hands, he’d struggled to not flush bright, screaming red.
He’d expected Riley to ask why he was acting so weird because even though he’d attempted normal, Landry knew he hadn’t succeeded. But Riley hadn’t. He’d pretended like they hadn’t run into each other practically naked in the hallway the night before.
If he can do it, so can I, Landry thought stubbornly.
His phone dinged in his pocket.
Landry had thought the worst thing that could happen tonight was Riley heading off with Carter, but no, this was definitely way worse.
The message was from Aidan and was a bucketful of freezing cold water on his libido.
What was he doing? Fantasizing about Aidan’s little brother?
But that was the biggest issue, wasn’t it? Riley wasn’t just Aidan’s little brother anymore. He wasn’t the kid. He was Riley—and Landry couldn’t help the very un-fraternal feelings he was having about him.
However, Aidan wouldn’t understand.
He’d be furious.
Take care of him, he’d yell at Landry. I told you to take care of him, not fuck him.
I texted you three times, Aidan’s message said, but you keep ghosting me. Are things going that bad?
Landry leaned against the wall and rolled his eyes. Of course that was Aidan’s first thought.
Probably way down on the list—or not on the list at all—was the concept that Landry had ignored his texts because he hadn’t known what to say.
Oh, yeah, Riley’s doing good. He’s so fucking good. He’s…
Looks good? You better fucking believe how great he looks.
We’re getting along awesome. Better than awesome. He keeps flirting with me, and I keep loving it.
No, was all Landry replied with.
What else could he say?
Surely, Aidan wasn’t totally in the dark because Landry was certain he’d been talking to Riley. And no doubt Riley could talk to him without feeling like he was hiding something intrinsically important from Aidan. No doubt he could describe how things were going without an added and heaping dose of guilt.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and decided to focus on that guilt.
Maybe it would help him keep his hands in his pockets and out of his pants. Even when he took that hot shower and…
Just when he hit the elevator bank, the phone rang.
Of course it was Aidan.
“What the fuck,” Aidan said loudly as soon as Landry answered the phone. “You duck me for days, and then when I ask you why all you say is no. No elaboration, nothing. Just no.”
“No, it’s not going that bad,” Landry said, focusing on keeping his voice even and casual.
“Well, of course it isn’t, Riley might not be suited to this, but he’s not an idiot,” Aidan grumbled.
“I’m shocked to hear you actually believe that,” Landry said, reaching over to hit the button for his floor.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?” Aidan demanded.
“Don’t you have a game of your own to prepare for?”
“I’m not playing tomorrow,” Aidan said. Which was pretty typical. A lot of existing starters didn’t play in the final preseason game. But most of the Condors’ offense was because Riley was new, and they were still trying to find their rhythm.
He’d guessed Aidan wouldn’t be playing, but Landry had hoped by shifting the topic of conversation back to Aidan, he’d get distracted and forget why he’d really called.
But Riley wasn’t the only Flynn who wasn’t an idiot.
“And,” Aidan continued, “don’t change the subject.”
“I wouldn’t,” Landry protested.
“I’m not stupid, and I wasn’t born yesterday. You are the most fucking reliable texter I know, and somehow you’ve just forgotten to reply to me three times? I don’t buy it. Something’s going on.”
“God, you’re the most paranoid person I know,” Landry argued. There was no denying the nice healthy dose of guilt currently pulsing in his gut as the elevator stopped at his floor. “Nothing’s going on. He came here. He’s playing great. We’re working hard. Beginning of story and end of story.”
“You don’t mind having him underfoot?”
The irony of Aidan suddenly caring about whether it was inconvenient for Riley to move in. Landry didn’t roll his eyes again. But he wanted to.
“He’s not a child, Aidan. He’s a grown person who unsurprisingly is completely able to take care of himself.”
Aidan was quiet for a moment.
“It’s just…”
“You’re lagging behind in the running for Overprotective Brother of the Year?”
“No,” Aidan said forcefully.
“Then what is it?”
But Landry already knew what it was. He wouldn’t have given Aidan so much shit if he didn’t.
“You know what it is,” Aidan said. “Annoyingly.”
“Yes, I think you really regret getting ridiculously drunk during spring break our sophomore year and telling me all about how you two grew up.” Landry said it kindly. Because Aidan probably did regret it.
For someone who was always ready to talk himself up and repeat every bit of praise he’d ever gotten and every award he’d ever been given, Aidan was surprisingly close-lipped about the real accomplishment: practically raising his younger brother when he was just a kid himself.
“But here’s the thing, the craziest thing. You did good with him. You protected him and took care of him when your parents didn’t give a shit. And then he grew up, and you freaked and went totally overboard,” Landry said sternly, pulling his keycard out of his back pocket and letting himself into his sterile, unfriendly hotel room. At least it was empty. Because he wasn’t a rookie, he wasn’t required to share.
Of course, how many times in the last week had he considered suggesting to Riley that they double up?
For completely innocent reasons, of course.
“I didn’t go overboard,” Aidan insisted. “He…well, he wants things that aren’t good for him.”
“Hard disagree,” Landry said. “He knows, more than anyone, more than even you, what he’s capable of. I saw it myself in practice this week. He’s got this, and you being a dick about it is only going to drive him away.”
“What about me being a dick about other things?” Aidan joked.
“Well, that’s a given.” Landry sat down on the edge of the bed.
“So, there’s really nothing else going on? You swear?”
Landry had never lied to his best friend before. He’d never imagined he might be forced into a position where that seemed like the best option.
After all, there wasn’t anything to tell anyway, he reasoned. Riley probably didn’t feel the same as he did. What was the point of confessing the truth to Aidan if nothing ever came of it? He’d just piss his best friend off for no reason whatsoever.
“Pinky swear,” Landry said lightly.
Later, much later, when Riley was not living in his house, and Landry had gotten some proper distance from the situation when he’d really begun to realize what his shifting sexuality might mean, then he’d tell Aidan.
He’d never have to know the origin of it was Riley.
“And tomorrow,” Aidan said, voice growing hard, “you make sure you block the shit out of anyone who wants to destroy him, okay?”
“As if I’d do anything different.” Landry paused, hesitating. “But you know, the guy can practically bench press an elephant. The person who makes it hardest to destroy Riley is Riley.”
Aidan hummed under his breath. “Yeah, I know he’s worked hard to bulk up.”
“It’s not just bulking up.” Landry had a dim idea that his mouth was running away with this, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. “The man’s pure muscle. Every inch of him is stacked with it.”
Landry told himself he didn’t imagine the surprised silence coming from Aidan’s end.
Then, as bad as this had been, as much guilt as he’d take to the grave over this conversation, it got worse. “You checkin’ out my brother?” Aidan joked.
But underneath the teasing tone was an undeniable concern.
Jesus, not only had he walked right into that, Landry had somehow managed to re-activate Overprotective Brother Bot.
Shit.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Landry said.
“I’m not being ridiculous. It’s not…it’s not out of the question.”
Landry’s mind raced. He couldn’t tell the truth. But he couldn’t tell Aidan a bald-faced lie either by saying he was straight when he most definitely knew he was not. The rest of this would be hard enough, but he could never live with himself if he did that.
“What if someone told you it wasn’t out of the question?” Landry didn’t wait for Aidan to answer. “Now you know how ridiculous it is.”
“I…” Aidan stammered. “Well, of course. Of course.”
“See? Ridiculous. Now power down, Overprotective Brother Bot.”
“I hate you,” Aidan said, but it was clear from his tone he didn’t. Not at all.
“No, you don’t.”
Aidan sighed. “Have a good game, okay?”
“Plan on it,” Landry said.
When he finally tossed the phone down on the bed, the horrible conversation blissfully over, Landry was at least not in the mood to hop into the shower and lean against the back wall, and let the hot water run over him, dreaming the whole time it was Riley’s hands. Or even more…Riley’s mouth.
At least there was that.