Behind Your Walls

STEPHEN'S POV: dirty deals

S T E P H E N

"You were fire out that, Crawford!" Brandon slaps a sweaty hand on my back as soon as I step into the changing room, being greeted by a cacophony of exhilarated footsteps running about.

"Thanks," I grumble out, a little irritated when he rummages my hair without my permission.

His hands are so greasy and he stinks. I stink too which is why I hate it when people violate my space without a warning beforehand.

When he finally leaves me alone to join his group of loud friends in the showers, I find myself near my locker, my shoulders weighed down with the events of the day.

I am elated, or at least I like to think I am. I not only made it into the team but took the spot of the captain. More like snatched it from him. Coach Jackson liked my game so much that he nearly squeezed me to death in his happiness.

With the new position comes new responsibilities and Coach Jackson made it clear that being the first black and openly gay captain in a team where nearly half the members were white, I had a bigger responsibility on my shoulders to prove myself. He had high hopes for me and I wanted to stand by that.

I open my locker, taking out my phone which is placed neatly over my folded clothes inside. I swipe it open to find a text from Amaya.

Amaya:
You played good, rock star!

Her text warms my heart. Amaya Sommers is so fucking beautiful. It is sad that Carter got to her heart first. I had wanted her, still want her. But I was late.

I leave her on seen for now, making up my mind to meet with her later. It is time to let go of my useless hopes for her. She would never be mine. I will meet with her later and apologize for ignoring her all these days, and admit that my jealousy got the best of me.

Jealousy and him

Kyle Dickson is not a dick. He is nowhere close to one. When I entered the team, he gave me a warm welcome and made me feel a part of it. He encouraged me saying that he was proud of me for playing that way on the field and hoped that we would finally be able to defeat our rival team, The Howlers, this season. Then I had gone ahead and stole the Coach's attention, stealing the position of the captain from him.

Happiness and guilt — my heart is full of both as I take my clothes out, strip off my jersey, and head for the shower.

Naked guys loiter around the smoky bathroom, some of them eyeing me when I enter. In this place, their gazes aren't filled with admiration for my game but for something else. I am the only non-straight guy on the team and they all know that. I can see their minds working, inspecting me closely to see if their dicks would grab my attention.

Idiots don't know anything about being gay. Dicks arouse me and so do pussies but even more than that, I am attracted to personalities. Sex is just an added bonus.

I lock my jaw, pressing my lips into a firm line when I reach an empty stall.

I enter and pull the curtain, hanging my towel over a hook. I turn on the shower, the first sprinkle of lukewarm water making me groan with relief. I rake my fingers through my hair, letting the stress of the day wash away from my body. I am aching in the aftermath of the game, my muscles clenched tightly in knots.

I close my eyes and the vision that flashes across my lids tightens my chest.

Dark brown hair, amber eyes staring at me with unfiltered pain, slumped shoulders that hang low.

Gorgeous. Strong. Talented. Broken.

I am his betrayer. A traitor that stabbed him in the back. He will hate me forever.