Oh Boy! (BL)

28 - The One (3/3)

"You're not playing fair," I mumbled much much later.

Clay's hoarse laughter caressed my shoulder. "Are you complaining?"

I grumbled but snuggled into his embrace even more. How could I possibly complain when I'd just lived through two hours filled with nothing but Clay's touch? We were cuddling on the couch, Clay had put his strong arms around my slim body, playing the big spoon so that I could feel his warm chest in my back. I could feel that his heart was still beating like crazy. Just like mine.

I looked over my shoulder until I could see in his mischievous eyes. "I'll never hear the end of it. You know that, right?"

"Mhm." He put his well-kissed lips on my shoulder and gave me puppy eyes. "Can you ever forgive me?"

I pretended to debate about it for a moment, but who did I wanna fool? No one could stay mad at those eyes. More so since, now that I was lying safe and sound in his arms, I realized how afraid I'd been that I'd never feel him again. So, I was satisfied with just snuggling closer to him.

The screen of the small TV in front of us flickered. At some point, while Clay had been determined to explore every last inch of my body with his mouth, my hand must've hit the remote and switched on the TV. But I had no clue what exactly we were "watching".

I turned my attention to the screen and crumbled my nose. A soap opera. Ew.

I handed Clay the remote. "Your choice," I mumbled and put my sleepy head back on the cushion. Clay leaned his head on his angled arm and zapped through the channels.

"Any preferences?"

I yawned. "Not a soap."

"No soap operas," he confirmed.

Clay flipped through the channels so fast that I wondered how he could even see what was on. He stopped when the entire screen seemed to turn green. I chuckled while Clay put the remote on the table and placed a kiss on my neck. "Not a soap opera."

There were dozens of tiny players fighting for the ball, an occasional close-up of a player, and the commentator who explained why that particular play had been fantastic. "An old Sounders match?"

"Hush." He put his arms around me. "It's the only way to learn from the best."

I'd spent so much time with the Thunderbirds that I could at least understand the basics of what was going on the field where the Sounders fought back the ball from the Earthquakes. But I had no idea how to identify which of these players were the best. But I could feel Clay's enthusiasm...and his longing.

"You'll be there someday," I promised quietly.

"But first I have to survive college."

I squeezed his arm. "Four years of college soccer won't hurt."

"Yeah, that's what all of those scouts were trying to tell me, too."

I blinked.

Then I sat up abruptly. Clay slid down the back of the couch until I looked down on his grinning face. "When? Who? How many?"

He pushed the hair out of my face – a gesture that would've made me wince not too long ago. "Thursday morning. My dad almost fainted when coach Simpson called him to schedule appointments."

"So, the journalists who showed up at school..."

"Yeah." He caressed my face. "They wanted to ask which team I would choose."

I blinked. "Already?"

"Crazy, right?" He rolled his eyes. "Coach Simpson told them to be patient. That it's a decision I shouldn't rush."

"How do you feel?" I whispered and lay down on top of his warm chest.

Clay put one hand over mine that had just begun caressing his hard pecks and looked up at the ceiling. "How would you feel if four college teams offered you a scholarship for doing what you love?"

Four. I formed the word with my mouth. "You're incredible."

He chuckled. "Bob couldn't believe it when I called him."

"Bob?"

"My former coach."

The one who had given him the pin.

Speaking of pin. I sat back up.

"What're you doing?" He asked and wanted to reach for me when I slid from the sofa. Blushing all over, I covered my sex with my hands and went to my drawer where I had kept his present for so long. The small black box was feather-light in my hand. Wait, if I needed a hand to carry it...I looked from my hand down to where I needed it, too.

"Close your eyes," I ordered with burning cheeks.

"Mhmm...nah."

Surprised I looked over my shoulder and caught Clay ogling my butt. "Hey!"

He licked his lips and lay back on his back, not caring at all about his own nudity.

I wasn't like that. "Please."

Crossing his arms behind his head he closed his lids and began counting. "Five...four...three..."

Running over the carpet, I practically jumped on Clay's legs and pulled a pillow over my lap. Clay chuckled when he reopened his eyes. "Not that I haven't seen everything already..."

"Doesn't make it less embarrassing," I mumbled.

He sat up and pulled me closer to his body. "Show me."

So impatient.

My hands were trembling when I gave him the box for the second time. "It's not much...but...congrats! You won the tournament!"

"Ken..." Clay's voice was hoarse when he opened the lid. I couldn't read his eyes...but that he put the box down on the sofa had to be a bad sign, wasn't it?

What if he didn't like it?

Maybe it was too cliché.

Sh*t... "Sorry...it was a stupid idea...I'm sure you don't like them...I can....You don't have to keep...oomph."

Clay's hug was so tight I could hardly breathe. "They're fantastic!"

"You like them?"

"Of course, I do, baby!" He kissed me impatiently and took the box back into his hands to look at the pair of tiny black star pins. When I'd seen them at the carnival, my mind traveled back to an article I'd read in the Blitz! when I'd just started working for the paper. Clay Prescott: Aiming for the Champions League! Europe's league of champions. And its icon was a soccer ball made of stars.

I let my fingers glide through Clay's hair while he kept holding me in his arms. One day, he'd leave for Europe to join the big teams.

Far away.

I noticed that I was crying only when Clay let go of me with wide eyes. "Baby! What's wrong?"

"I love you," I sobbed and kissed him hard.

"What?" His hands embraced my face. "What did you say?"

"I...I love you." I tasted the salt of my own tears on his lips. "I'm so sorry."

He wiped the tears off my cheeks. "You're sorry? Baby," He kissed me tenderly. "you make me so happy!"

"I do?" I whispered just before he caught my words with his hungry mouth.

"I want you," Clay breathed. "All of you."

It took a moment for me to get what he meant. "All of me?" I trembled. "Are you sure?"

"Baby, I've never been this sure in my entire life. Be mine." He kissed me again. Two times. Three, when his tongue danced tango in my mouth. "I want you."

I looked up into his tender eyes.

"Then take me."