His Secret

2. Matías

CHAPTER TWO

MATíAS

“If you don’t come outside right now, I’m turning around and going back home.”

Adrian’s boisterous laugh pours into my ear through the phone. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

As soon as I see him make his way down the steps of the house, I finally exit my car and meet him in the grass.

“You were really gonna wait at the curb all night?” he asks with a laugh.

“You don’t understand the anxiety I have just being here. Why are there fifty cars?”

“Because I’m popular,” he says with a shrug and boyish grin.

“Aren’t they drinking? I hope there’s still fifty cars here when the night is over.”

He snorts and chuckles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and tugging me toward the door. “You always so straight and narrow?”

Not straight , I think to myself. I’m not necessarily in the closet, but I don’t think many people know about my sexuality, because most people don’t know anything about me. I keep to myself and talk to a few people in each class. I don’t hang out and have a lot of extracurriculars. I’ve had a couple boyfriends here and there, but nothing too serious. I don’t know if Adrian even knows I’m gay. I wonder if he were to find out if it would change anything between us.

“I obey the law, if that’s what you mean.”

He laughs again. “You don’t want a drink?” he asks as we step inside.

“Just water is fine.”

As we maneuver our way through people, we find ourselves in the kitchen where he dumps half a water bottle into a red Solo cup and hands it to me.

“Let me introduce you to some people.”

“Do we have to do that?”

He chuckles. “Yes. We have to.”

A minute later, we’re in the living room where a group of guys are surrounding an out of place table. They’re drinking out of plastic cups and then flipping them over.

“What’s going on?” I ask, leaning closer to Adrian.

“It’s a race. The guys on this side versus the guys on that side. You drink the beer inside, then put it on the edge of the table and flip it until it lands right side up. Then the next person goes. Whichever side gets to the last person first, wins.”

“Wins what?”

He laughs again. “Just wins.”

After the game is over, a couple of the guys turn around and start talking to Adrian. I try not to be as awkward as I feel and take a sip of my water.

“Hey, guys. This is Matías. He’s in my project management class. This is Frankie and Tyrell. But I call them Barlow and Johnson. They’re on the football team with me.”

“Hey, nice to meet you,” I say, inclining my head slightly .

“You wanna play?” Frankie asks, gesturing to the table.

I let out a nervous chuckle. “Oh. No thanks. I’ll watch.”

Instead of forcing me or making me feel lame for not wanting to play, they accept my answer and gather some other people around for a new game.

“You survived,” Adrian whispers, amusement in his eyes.

“Just barely.”

He shakes his head and heads toward another group of people that are mingling near the TV.

“Kennedy!” the guy shouts, lifting his cup in the air. “Great party, man.”

“Thanks, D,” he says. “This is my friend, Matías. This is D, Penelope, and Lara.”

I smile and say, “Hey,” and they do the same.

“I haven’t seen you at one of Adrian’s parties before,” one of the girls says.

“We haven’t known each other for long,” I reply. “Are you Penelope or Lara?”

The girls laugh, then the redhead speaks again. “I’m Penelope.”

I nod and take another sip of my water.

“Kennedy, we need your help real quick,” someone yells.

He leans into me. “I’ll be right back.”

I want to say, no, please don’t leave me here , but I simply nod and stand there with the group of strangers I was just introduced to.

“So, Matías, right?” Penelope asks, and I nod. “Are you a senior?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yep. Thank god. I’m so ready to be done with college.”

I nod in agreement before looking around to see if Adrian is on his way back. D walks away, and Lara is engrossed in her phone .

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Penelope asks.

I give her a small smile. “Not really, no. In fact, definitely not,” I say with a laugh.

“I don’t mean for this to sound rude, but why did you come?”

“Adrian asked me to. Said I was being mean if I said no.”

She laughs. “I see. Peer pressure.”

“I won’t stay too long,” I reply. “And now I have something I can hold over his head.”

“Exactly. He’ll owe you one, so now you can get him to do something that’s out of his comfort zone.”

“Do you have any ideas?” I ask.

She taps her pink painted finger on her lips. “Hmm. Oh, you know what? Bowling. He sucks at it and refuses to go.”

“Really?” I ask with a smile.

She nods. “Oh yeah. I saw him once and it was bad. Four gutter balls in a row.”

I laugh. “Wow. Okay.”

“He still needs to use the bumpers that are made for kids.”

We fall into laughter just as Adrian approaches. “Oh, look at you. You feeling more comfortable?”

“Well, when it’s just me and one person, it’s a little easier.”

Penelope smiles at me, her green eyes sparkling. “Well, I’m gonna go use the restroom.”

I nod, grinning at her, and she winks before walking away.

Adrian lifts his brows at me before perching his butt on the arm of a nearby chair. “Oooh. Penelope, huh?”

My cheeks redden. “Uhh…no.”

“I see you blushing.”

“Really, really…no. Not that she’s not nice. She is. ”

Adrian looks amused as he takes a gulp from his cup. “I’ve known her for a couple years. Do you want me to?—”

“No. I…” I look around and wonder if I should even say anything. Now isn’t the best time to reveal my sexuality, but I don’t want him to think I’m interested in her, and yet, I can’t let him know I’m interested in him. “Meeting people is one thing. Let’s just be happy I’m here.”

He chuckles. “Okay. You’re right. I don’t want to push you too far.”

His eyes trace my face before he stands up straight. “We got a game of beer pong happening in the kitchen. Wanna team up?”

I scrunch my nose. “Beer?”

“I’ll drink for you. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. I do have a good aim.”

He looks at me. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Adrian flashes me his perfect white teeth. “I’m not.”

“Okay,” I say, rolling my eyes.

I sink my first shot and so does Adrian, so we get to go again. I make my second one, but he misses. Only one person on the other team makes his shot, so Adrian drinks up, and then we continue. Once again, I sink the ball into the cup, but Adrian misses.

“Come on, man,” I tease, elbowing him.

“Hey, I’m the drunk one. The cups are blurring together.”

The other team makes both of theirs, and then miss the next two. When Adrian finishes his second drink, I wonder if maybe I should drink some of these.

“Are you actually drunk?” I ask quietly. “Do you need me to drink some?”

He grins at me, his eyes a little red, but still clear and alert. “I’m not that drunk. I’m good. ”

“Okay.”

We get down to three cups on their side, and they have five on ours. Adrian misses first, and as I’m taking aim, he creeps up to my side and whispers, “You got this, man.”

His breath ghosts across my neck, and I have to fight back the full-body chill that runs through me. I toss the ball and it hits the side of the cup and falls to the side.

“Dammit.”

The crowd watching lets out a collective “Aww,” at my streak going down the drain.

“It’s okay. I’ll make this for both of us,” Adrian states.

He doesn’t. The other team ties it up, leaving us with three cups a piece. I start getting really into it, and my pulse spikes as the nerves take over. I want to win!

I make mine. Adrian misses.

They make one.

Adrian makes his, then comes over and grabs me, playfully shaking me while our bodies are pressed against each other. “Come on, come on,” he says joyfully, basically humping my hip.

I miss, because of course I did. How can I focus after this man just grinded all over me?

The other team makes one.

“Okay, wait, wait, wait. I need to discuss strategy with my partner,” Adrian says, pulling me away and wrapping an arm around my neck as he moves in close. “Who should throw first? If we make this, we win. Well, they can counter attack, but hopefully they miss. If we miss both shots, then our fate rests in their hands. One of us has to…”

I stop hearing him. His words fade into the background and the sound of my rapidly beating heart takes over. Adrian’s hair brushes against my forehead, and his lips look so soft and inviting as he talks about this ridiculous game. He retracts his arm slightly, his hand squeezing the back of my neck. My eyes close.

“Cruz. Cruz.” He shakes me and I snap out of my haze.

“Huh? Oh. Sorry.”

“So, I think you should?—”

“No, you,” I say quickly, standing up straight and backing away from his hold. “You go. I trust you.”

His lips form a crooked grin. “Okay,” he replies, dragging out the word in a sing-songy voice. “But if I miss, you can’t hold it over my head.”

I think I smile at him, but my heart is thumping and my body feels hot, and I’m aware of everyone around me. I wouldn't be able to make this shot. Not with my body vibrating the way it is. I need to leave this party and stop dreaming about Adrian Kennedy.

Suddenly, the room erupts, and I’m once again yanked from my daydream. Adrian comes at me, his huge football player frame looking like he’s about to tackle me to the floor. Which might be fun, if we were alone—and naked. But he doesn’t do that. He lifts me from my feet, jostling me up and down his body as he bounces with excitement.

“We won!” he yells, halfway to being drunk.

“We did?”

I missed the rest of the game while stuck in my head.

“Thanks to you!” He puts me down. “I’ve never won one of these games.”

I smile. “Well, yay!”

Adrian barks out a laugh. “Yes. Yay. Let’s go get a drink.”

I don’t bother to tell him I’m still not drinking, instead just choosing to follow him wherever he’s going.

Adrian opens the fridge and quickly closes it, spinning around. “Come with me,” he says in a whisper .

“What are we doing?” I reply back in the same tone, following him toward the stairs.

“Stealing beer from Barlow’s room.”

“Oh, well, that’s not nice.”

He chuckles. “It’s fine.”

“Be the lookout,” he tells me as I stand in the doorway. “Let me know if he’s coming.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ve already forgotten what he looks like.”

“Big guy with long blond hair.”

“Got it.”

Adrian opens up a mini fridge next to a full-sized bed and takes two cans before coming back toward me.

“You want one?”

I shake my head. “I’m probably gonna leave soon, so I shouldn’t.”

Instead of going downstairs, he walks to another door down the hall. When I step inside the room behind him, he’s already sitting on the corner of the bed.

“I take it this is your room.”

“Yep.”

“Much quieter up here,” I say with relief.

“Yeah. It won’t die down for a while. You can close the door.”

With the click of the latch, my heart rate begins to spike again. He’s putting one beer on the floor and then opening the other, completely unaware of how nervous I just became.

I know it makes no logical sense. He lives in a house with other guys, so I’m sure they visit each other’s rooms often. I’m overthinking things because I’m attracted to him and because I like him, but he doesn’t even know I’m gay. Being alone with him, in his room, means nothing .

“So, first party. How do you feel?” he asks with a wide smile.

I awkwardly lean against his dresser, not wanting to sit on the bed with him. “It’s…good. I won a game of beer pong, so?—”

“Damn right you did,” he says, holding up his beer.

I laugh. “Yeah. I’m still alive, so that’s a plus.”

“Is death a usual thought when you’re invited to parties?” he teases.

“Well, I’m not usually invited to them, so no. But social situations in general aren’t my thing. Also, I’m dramatic, so when I say ‘still alive’ I just mean, not panicking and running for the nearest exit.”

“Ah. I see.” He takes another sip of his beer and the silence is thick between us for a bit. “So, Penelope?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “No.”

“Come on. I saw the way you two were laughing together.”

“I’m really not interested. Are you into her or something?”

“Me? No. No, no. She’s the ex-girlfriend of one of my friends. That feels wrong.”

Wanting to change the subject from Penelope, girls, and dating in general, I scan the room hoping to find something to talk about. He’s got a calendar on the wall that holds a photo of a bikini-clad woman, so I keep scanning. There’s a South River University flag on the wall surrounded by some football memorabilia. His desk is littered with papers, but his mirror has photos tucked in the sides, so I walk over there.

There’s one of him holding a football with a girl standing next to him. There’s a group photo of him and his friends, another one of the same girl from the other picture, except this time she’s alone. There’s a picture of a dog next to one of Adrian and the same dog when they were both younger and smaller.

“Is this your dog?”

“Yeah. Well, my parents’ dog, I guess. They got it when I was a kid, so I’ve grown up with him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Tyson.”

“He’s cute.”

“The girl is my sister,” he offers.

“Oh. What’s her name?”

“Amelia.”

“So, are you trying to go pro?” I ask, finally turning around to face him.

He snorts. “That would be a dream, but it’s just that.”

“You’re not good?”

Adrian laughs, putting his open beer on the nightstand before standing up. “I’m good.”

“What uhh…part do you play?”

His smile stretches across his face. “I play the defensive end part . A linebacker,” he adds with a shrug, like that’s supposed to help.

“Ah,” I say with a nod.

He removes his T-shirt, his undershirt lifting in the process and showing off his torso. After tossing it into a hamper in the corner, he kicks off his shoes.

“So,” I say, swallowing and looking away. “If not football, what are your plans?”

Adrian sighs. “Business with my dad. He has a company, and I already have a job lined up as long as I pass my classes and graduate.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

“I guess,” he says, propping himself up against the pillows on his bed. “What about you? ”

I shift and knock something off his dresser. “Oops. Sorry.”

I bend down and pick it up and then just stand in the middle of the room. “Well, I?—”

Adrian laughs. “Why do you look so uncomfortable?”

With a little shake of my head, I say, “Uhh. I am.”

“Why? It’s just me.”

Just him. Yeah, just him and his ridiculous body. Him and those full and tempting lips. Him and that smile that makes you want to join in even if you have no idea why. Him and those eyes that draw you in and keep your attention.

“I feel comfortable around you,” he says. “I want you to feel comfortable around me.”

Yeah, well, he’s not harboring a stupid crush, so that’s easy to say. Have you ever been around someone you’re absolutely smitten with? You are never comfortable. You’re concerned about your posture, your body, and what’s potentially in your teeth. Is your hair doing that weird thing? Do you have something in your nose? What does your ass look like in your jeans? Are they looking at you the way you want them to?

“I mean, I’m fine,” I say, making my way to the chair at his desk.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks.

My lungs seize. “Yes.”