Rumor Has It (Longwood U)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

SPARROW

I don’t expect to see Dak again. Some guys I don’t. I never saw them before they showed up and I don’t see them again after—win or lose. I thought Dak would be one of them.

My time at Rumor is pretty routine at this point. Usually I go when I need to get off. Because there are only certain days and times that Rumor is operated, there’s usually a room of people waiting for their turn.

Most of the people who come in are new and are paired together. There are the occasional repeats, but that’s not as common as the new guys who think this is an easy way to make a grand. You literally have to tick off every single box. All twenty. Which means a whole lot of swapping out.

It also means that I’ve had to get comfortable bottoming, which isn’t always my favorite thing. Not that it matters most of the time, I’ve rarely gotten to that point. Once dicks go in back doors, most guys are ready to back out when they realize they have to give and receive to win. Refusing one is a forfeit.

Depending on how determined these guys are to make money determines how many guys I go through. It’s been up to six in a single visit.

But generally speaking, I get off at least once. Even if that means someone behind the scenes blows me until I lose my load once all the competitors are gone. Last year, one even rode me to get me off. I’m not sure if he graduated or just doesn’t offer that service anymore, but I haven’t seen him since.

However, in my year or so doing this, I’ve never thought twice about someone I’ve fooled around with at Rumor. They’re less than a hookup. Just some fun that I get off doing and walk away with a pocketful of cash.

So on Friday, I’m not sure why I’ve spent the last three days thinking about Dak. He’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in person, but am I really so shallow as to think that’s the only reason I can’t stop thinking about him? Looks can change completely when you get to know their personality, and I’d always thought I had more depth than to get caught up on someone’s looks.

But I can’t stop seeing his big brown eyes. The way his entire body reacted to me when I started sucking his dick. My scalp still tingled an hour later from how tightly he gripped my hair.

Maybe it’s the way he responded to me. More than once, I thought that man was going to bolt. Every time he remembered the cameras there, he’d freeze up. Big deer in headlights look.

The fact that I could pull him back into the moment every time I brought his eyes back to mine, though… Maybe that’s why I’ve thought about him repeatedly. I’ve even found myself looking for him.

Apparently, we never cross paths. Ever. In three days, I haven’t seen him.

That changes on Friday when I’m sitting mindlessly in class, not paying attention. My mind is wondering, yet again, to Dak when I absently glance out the window and there he is. Sitting at a picnic table with a group of people.

He’s smiling and while he’s a good distance away, I’m positive that’s him and damn the way he changes when he smiles. I didn’t think he could be more breathtaking, but I’m definitely wrong.

I stare at him for the rest of class, not even pretending to pay attention. When my peers move around me and get to their feet, I don’t follow the crowd, but move to the window for a clearer look. Yes, that’s him. And yes, he’s even more striking with a smile.

What would he look like if he turned that smile on me?

It’s a struggle, but I manage to pull myself from the window and leave the room, having not paid any attention to the lecture at all. I pause in the door and glance back. What class was I in? Wait, was I in the right place? Are these walls familiar?

Fucking hell, what’s happening to me?!

Laughing internally, I shake my head and leave. It’s not like I need this class. Hell, I don’t even need this degree. But I was bored, so I thought I’d see what else I could learn. I think this is just a filler class, though.

By the time I make my way out of the building, Dak is gone. Which is probably for the best. What would I say to him anyway—can I finish sucking your dick because I really want to see your orgasm face? I want to taste your cum on my tongue and feel it drip down my throat?

Probably not the best opening line.

Sighing, I turn back toward the path.

Nemy sits next to me, wiggling in his seat with a blanket wrapped around him as he leans forward and yells at the ref. I shake my head. Honestly, this man. He’s petite, wearing high-waisted jeans and a white, short sleeve crop top tee. His hair is on the longer side, and he has pretty brown eyes. His skin is soft porcelain, flawless, and he has pretty pouty pink lips.

And he’s yelling at the ref like a beast.

Going to games with Nemy is one of my favorite things ever. He’s deceptively soft looking, but he knows his hockey and one of his biggest pet peeves are what he refers to as lazy refs. They’re there for the paycheck and don’t try to do their jobs. It’s their show-up-and-don’t-work pay.

It helps when you have a pro-hockey uncle and grow up watching him on television. There were a couple summers when he’d convinced his father to take him to watch his Uncle Caulder at camp. I was convinced for a lot of my childhood that this man was going to grow up doing something with hockey. That’s not been the case thus far. He’s on the path to becoming a dental hygienist.

Maybe to fix hockey players’ teeth? Or lack thereof in some cases .

“I’m going to get more popcorn. Want anything?” I ask.

He flashes me a big grin. “Drink?”

“Got it.”

When I get to my feet, I stop momentarily as some players crash against the boards right in front of me. This has Nemy on his feet yelling again.

This isn’t how I planned to spend my Saturday, but it’s a good break from my mind constantly drifting back to Dak. Nemy is good people, good company. Even if he is six years younger than me. We grew up together so in many ways, he’s my brother. That seems to allow me more leniency when dealing with his immaturity.

Grinning, I climb the stairs. Before I grab popcorn, I stop to take a leak.

The arena isn’t crowded. We’re not really a school known for their hockey team. Our hockey team isn’t bad, but I don’t think the governing body has any aspirations for the school to be known for being great at athleticism. They’re more focused on their science and humanities departments. The arena is probably less than half full. Maybe a third. Most people that attend games are from the student body or those who work here. Maybe someone from the family of a hockey player.

The upper decks outside the stadium seating and concession stands are empty. It’s almost eerily quiet. There’s no one in the bathroom when I go in, which I don’t hate at all. Personally, I prefer peeing in privacy.

When I step out of the bathroom, my breath catches. Dak is leaning against the wall across from the bathroom.

I have no doubt that he’s waiting for me. There’s literally no one else around and his eyes are locked in my direction. As soon as he sees me, he stands straighter. His crossed arms drop, and his eyes widen. His breath catches. He’s been chewing on his lip, but he lets it go.

Well, I definitely wasn’t imagining how gorgeous this man is. There really is no question as to why I haven’t stopped thinking about him. Every detail about Dak has me staring.

“Hi,” I say after I remember myself. “Dak, right?”

A glimpse of amusement flashes across his face. There’s the barest hint of a smile, but it’s replaced immediately with self-consciousness.

Okay, that was stupid. I take a few steps toward him. “I’m kidding. I definitely remember your name.” I don’t want him thinking that he wasn’t memorable. If it wouldn’t make the moment awkward, I’d assure him that I remember every little detail of the time we spent together. I could remind him in a play-by-play if he’d like.

And now I’ve earned myself a blush. Most certainly an improvement.

Dak looks around, making sure we’re alone. “Hi,” he answers. “I uh… can I explain?”

I raise a brow. “Explain what?”

He opens his mouth again but doesn’t say anything, his eyes once more dart around the empty place; as if he’s waiting for someone to jump out to record his words.

“Want to go outside?” I ask.

Dak nods. “Yeah. Sorry.”

I shrug and gesture toward the door. He heads that way and I hang back for a minute, taking this opportunity to really look at him from behind. I hadn’t had this opportunity before. Does he play sports? He has the build of an athlete. The kind that’s played and kept in shape for his entire young life. Even from behind, fully clothed, this isn’t hard to see.

Once outside, we take several long strides away from the door and stop. He looks at me again with those big brown eyes and I really don’t want to look away. He’s just… I’m totally and completely mesmerized. The color is so vivid, his eyes are so deep. Beautiful.

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t like what we were doing,” he admits, cheeks bright red as he fidgets while talking. I try really hard not to smile. “It’s just… the cameras. They make me…” His words trail off.

“Nervous?” I ask.

Dak sighs. “I don’t know. It’s either the cameras or the fact that there were two other guys in there watching everything. It completely broke the moment for me and made me really self-conscious, I guess. Maybe too aware of the fact that I was fooling around with an audience. ”

“It’s not a big deal, Dak. It’s just a game. The camera isn’t there. Just you and the guy you’re trying to beat out.”

He’s chewing the inside of his lip again and I get the distinct impression he doesn’t like what I said. Honestly, when you put it into perspective like that, it should help. They’re just pawns, pieces of the game that we’re playing. We’re driving the game forward; we’re the players. They really are only spectators.

Which I suppose is kind of what he’s saying bothered him.

“You really didn’t need to explain, though. You don’t owe me anything.”

Dak nods. “I know.”

I’m not sure what else to say so I remain where I am, staring into his deep brown eyes as he looks into mine. Would he be upset if I kissed him right now? Probably. Straight guys don’t generally like when dudes kiss them. But he was into it. Definitely very into it. Would he be into it now, given that this is a completely different set of circumstances?

And he has this interesting compulsion to explain why he left. It wasn’t the failure that he cared about. It was what, exactly? That he felt like he ran out on me? Left me hanging? Or maybe he didn’t want me to think that he was a coward. Some guys are like that.

It didn’t help to reassure him that it was all part of the game. Sometimes I get off, sometimes I don’t. Although, I suppose that could be taken as an insult since he didn’t get me off. Some men have fragile masculinity.

Some men. Some men. I keep trying to figure out which kind of man Dak is, so I understand how to interact with him. But I really don’t know where to go with this.

“Sorry,” he repeats, dropping his eyes. “I didn’t mean to accost you here. That was weird and inappropriate.”

Grinning, I shake my head. “I don’t mind.”

“You, uh—you like hockey?” he asks, then winces. “I mean, of course you do. You’re at the game.”

Chuckling, I say, “I don’t mind hockey. I’m here with a friend who is a rabid fan, though he hates referees.”

Dak snorts. “For real. It’s rare that they’re actually on their game. I think they see something other than what’s actually going on in front of them. ”

“Yep, Nemy says the same thing.”

I like hockey well enough. I know what’s going on, but it’s not my favorite pastime. Growing up, there wasn’t a huge hockey presence at school, and we didn’t live in a place where hockey was big either. I was exposed to it through our extended, non-blood family. Namely, Nemy’s family. It was always a blast to go to games as a kid and I definitely enjoyed myself, but I can also think of a handful of other things I’d rather be doing than going to games regularly.

Like Dak. I’d love to be doing Dak right now.

“Okay, well. I won’t keep you,” Dak says. “I just didn’t want you to think it was you or that I was scared of your—” He abruptly stops, his eyes dropping to my crotch and his cheeks turning bright red.

I grin. “Got it. Not afraid of my dick.”

Can that red tint get any brighter? Yes. Even more flustered. He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll… see you around.”

I watch him rush off back inside with a huge grin on my face. No smile from him, though. I need to see it. I want to swoon as he smiles and have a feeling that I will.

After giving him a few minutes to return to his seat, I make my way back inside and head back to mine. Nemy is still yelling. I watch him with amusement for a minute until he sits back. He looks me over and then gives me a perplexed look.

“What?” I ask.

“Were they out of drinks and popcorn?” he asks.

“Ah,” I mutter. “Got sidetracked. Hold on.”

He rolls his eyes, watching me with a smile as I head back for the stairs to get what I’d initially gotten up to. Yes, definitely got sidetracked. In the best possible way.

I’m already wondering how I can accidentally run into Dak again. He’s here somewhere. And he's a student on campus which means it can’t be that hard, can it?