Page 39 of End Game

The other night was an accident. We were watching a movie, and I crashed. He made a very nice pillow. I’ve never shared a bed with a man and not had it be a direct result of amorous activities. With Barrett, though… not for one moment did I think he would take advantage of me or push me into a situation I wouldn’t be comfortable with. I know I’m safe with him—physically, yes, and also emotionally.

I’ll always be safe with him.

“It’ll be fine,” he tells me confidently. “We’ve survived puberty, and random boners and period leaks, and all the awkwardness of being fourteen and having sleepovers. We can have a sleepover in the same bed again.”

Chapter 13

Barrett

I’m in hell. Diana is in my bed, and I’m in hell. When we went to sleep, we were on opposite sides of the mattress. Now we’re in the middle of the bed and spooning. Somehow in the middle of the night my arm found its way around her waist. My morning erection is nestled right up against her perfect ass. Holy fuck.

She lets out a soft moan and shifts her hips. My cock twitches against my will, and my eyes fall closed again at how perfect this feels. She moans again and shoves her ass against my crotch, rotating slowly. My hand on her hip, I grind into her. She whines. It almost seems like…

No. Wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t supposed to feel so good. Diana is my best friend, and there is a line that most certainly can not be crossed. Groping her while she sleeps is definitely against the rules.

But fuck, does it feel right to have her in my arms. It feels like this is what we were meant to be doing all these years. So I take a deep breath and enjoy the fleeting moment for what it is—all too brief. And then I have to return to real life.

Exhaling slowly, I disentangle our limbs and roll to the edge of the bed. It takes a minute for me to be able to sit upright. Everything hurts. Our game was two days ago, which means I have a few more days for the bruises to heal before going through the wringer all over again.

Shuffling to the bathroom, I lock Tucker’s door—don’t want Mason barging in on me again—and take care of the morning situation. After, I turn on the water and step into the shower. The tub is cluttered with Mason’s hair products and soaps. I’m glad she feels at home here, I’m glad she and Tucker are in a good place, but sometimes seeing all of her stuff around all the time just makes me all the more aware of how lonely I am.

Even though I stopped sleeping around the second Diana told me she was coming here, it doesn’t change the fact I want a woman. One woman only: the one who is currently fast asleep in my bed, after a perfectly platonic night between the sheets. She’s all I’ve ever wanted. Now that she’s conceivably available… I have to shoot my shot.

Don’t I? I’m running out of excuses to keep my feelings to myself. I know she’s stressed with the new school and the family situation, but doesn’t she deserve happiness, too? Or am I just kidding myself that being with me would make her so inexplicably happy she would forget all about her dad’s cancer?

At the same time, I have to concede the fact that the woman I’m in love with, the woman I’ve loved from a distance for so many years, is a perfectly fallible human who isn’t perfect in the slightest. No matter how I feel about her, I have to admit that I don’t know the reality of being with her. What would it be like? I don’t want to casually date. I don’t want to sleep with her and then go back to normal.

I want to be with her, with everything that entails. I want a loving, committed relationship, like what Miles and Sam have, like what Tucker and Mason share. I want what her parents have.

It’s not purely sexual, this attraction I have. It’s not purely romantic, this pull towards her. I care about her as a person and as a potential partner. She’s my best friend, and at the end of the day, I want to preserve our friendship as much as I can. I don’t know what I would do without her in my life. I don’t know that I would survive it.

When I think about the type of woman I want to marry one day far, far into the future, there’s only one person who comes to mind. When I think about the way I want to raise my eventual, theoretical children, there’s only one partner I want to do it with. Diana is my end game. Whether we make this happen now, in six months, or in twenty years, I know it’s going to be her. I only hope she and I can figure this out before we unhappily marry other people and get divorced. I only hope she and I can figure this out so her father can see his daughter happy.

I like to think she would be happy with me. So what if I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend before. Seeing the changes my friends have gone through in the last year… it’s essentially what I’ve already been doing, just with sex and intimacy thrown in. I’m the first person Diana turns to when she’s upset and needs to vent or be cheered up. She comes to me with her good news, even before she tells her parents. She relies on me for advice and support, judgment-free. She’s that person for me, too.

Who knows what will happen after graduation? I’m pretty sure I want to take a few years off before I pursue my MBA, which means I have to stay local in Boston, within easy commuting distance of my family’s forensic accounting company in the financial district. I’m not sure what she’s doing next year, if grad school is on the horizon or if she’s going to take some time off to be with her dad.

I’m going to do everything in my power to be there for her. I’m going to give her everything I can.

By the time I’m done with my shower, the water’s gone cool. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I head back to my room. Diana is sitting up in my bed, the blankets pooled around her waist. She’s fully dressed in leggings and one of my t-shirts, her hair mussed. She’s absolutely gorgeous.

I like seeing her in my shirt. I like seeing her in my bed.

“Good morning.” Crossing the room, I grab clothes from my dresser. How am I going to maneuver into my shorts with her here—without flashing her?

“Morning.” Her cheeks go pink as her eyes scrub over my form. My cock gives a twitch behind my towel at the intensity in her eyes. She clears her throat and looks away.

“Did I wake you?”

Diana shakes her head. “It was time for me to wake up.”

She scoots out of the bed and pulls the blankets over the mattress.

“I’ll take care of it,” I tell her.

Her eyes dart to mine and then to my chest and belly again.

I’m a big guy, six foot five and right around three hundred pounds. Solid. Strong. I have to be in order to succeed on the football field. Everything about me is big, from my hands to my arms to my chest to my belly. I’m strong as fuck. But I’m also big.