The Unforgiving Minute (24 page)

“So,” Ryan said, when the pups were safely back in their box and he had Josh’s full attention again, “I’m done with Zoe. What do you say to going into the mountains for the week? We could rent a cabin and do some running and biking.”

“Sounds good,” Josh said.

They’d been using the local gym and hiring a court at the tennis club, but it hadn’t gone as well as Ryan had expected. Whenever he and Josh turned up at the tennis club, they were the center of attention. Everyone wanted to watch them practice. In the end, Ryan had asked the manager to shut off all access to the court they were hiring while they were on it. He hated doing it, because it felt like the sort of thing a Hollywood diva would do, but they were there to
work.
The last thing they needed was a video being posted online, showing just what either of them considered to be the weak points of their game.

Ryan was itching to get out into the fresh air of the mountains. He was also longing for something else. Being in his parents’ house, with their bedroom just down the hallway, they’d done nothing more since they’d been there than bring one another off with hands and mouths, struggling to keep quiet. It didn’t matter how good Josh’s hand felt as it wrapped around him each night, calluses from years of holding racquets providing the most perfect friction as Josh teased him, knowing exactly how Ryan liked it. It didn’t even matter how Josh gave probably the best blow jobs in the history of the world, doing things with his tongue Ryan hadn’t known were even possible, and then other times letting Ryan fuck his mouth and taking it, loving it. It didn’t matter, because Ryan wanted more. He wanted to stretch Josh out on a bed somewhere they didn’t have to be quiet. He wanted to take his time, to relearn every part of Josh’s body until he was panting and begging beneath him, desperate for Ryan, desperate to come with Ryan pushing deep into him.

Even though they didn’t yet have that privacy, Ryan couldn’t help himself, because Josh was standing there looking edible in faded jeans and a soft gray Henley, his face finally relaxed from the strain that had been so apparent back in California. Ryan stepped in close and kissed him, pressing him back against the washing machine with his body as his tongue pushed into Josh’s mouth, arousal jolting through him as Josh’s tongue met his.

Josh pulled away after a few minutes, breathing hard, and Ryan could almost see the strength of will it was taking him not to go to his knees in front of Ryan right then and there. “We can’t,” Josh got out. “Not in front of the puppies.”

The puppies, who were in their box in the corner of the room, just yards away.

“First of all, they’re
puppies,”
Ryan said, punctuating his statement with a long kiss that had Josh making little sounds in his throat and rubbing himself against Ryan. “Secondly, they’re asleep. Third of all….”

He lost himself in Josh’s mouth for a while, but with a superhuman effort, he drew back from Josh. His mom was out, but what if she came back early?

“Third of all?” Josh asked, sounding dazed.

Ryan took Josh’s hand and placed it on the thick line of his cock that was pushing against his jeans. “That,” he said.

Josh’s eyes closed as his mouth opened.
Fuck.
If they were anywhere but his parents’ house, Ryan would have had to take him then and there.

“Upstairs,” he said instead. “Now.”

And it was everything he’d wanted, watching Josh coming apart under his hands and his mouth until he was begging; desperate pleas that turned into a long, drawn-out moan as Ryan pushed slowly inside him. Propped on his hands over Josh, looking down at the way his eyes were closed, his teeth biting down into his lower lip, Ryan nearly lost it then and there.

Josh reached up and pulled him down into a long, wet kiss, which lost itself somewhere as Ryan rolled his hips, causing Josh to swear and curse and reach up to the headboard to brace himself, giving him leverage to meet Ryan’s thrusts. And then Ryan settled into a rhythm and Josh started groaning each time he pushed home, and God, Ryan had missed this. Missed Josh’s body under his, demanding and needing, and taking everything Ryan had to give. And it was too much, watching Josh take every last bit of him, and fuck, he couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except thrust into Josh and pant against his shoulder as he came, shaking with it. And then Josh was coming, jacking himself with Ryan still inside him.

Ryan retained just enough strength to pull out of Josh before collapsing down on top of him, praying that his mom hadn’t come home yet. For once, Josh didn’t complain at being squashed, instead holding Ryan close to him. Given how hard they were both breathing, they probably needed the altitude work they were about to do.

E
IGHT
days later, Ryan wasn’t sure the altitude training had helped at all because he was once again lying in his bed next to Josh and feeling like all the breath had been punched out of him.

“I love you,” Josh had said. Ryan had just rolled over to turn off the alarm and switch on the light, cursing the fact their flight was so damn early. When he’d turned back, Josh had said it to him. He’d looked kind of scared, but he’d held Ryan’s gaze, and the trust in his eyes had stolen Ryan’s breath away.

“Love you too,” Ryan said, once he got his breath back. He hadn’t dared say it again to Josh after what had happened last time, but the smile that broke across Josh’s face at his declaration made him realize that was well and truly in the past.

They lay there smiling at each other, and Ryan was pretty sure he had the sort of doting, mooncalf expression on his face that Josh had when he looked at the puppies. Not a million miles away from the expression Josh was wearing now, in fact.

A sharp rap on the bedroom door caused them both to jump.

“Time to get up, boys,” Ryan’s mom called through the door. “Josh, there’s coffee downstairs.”

Josh groaned. “Your mom sure knows how to fight dirty.”

“Oh yeah. Where do you think I get it from?”

An hour later, their cases were in the hall and they were ready to leave. Josh made one last trip to the mud room to say goodbye to the puppies, though Ryan suspected it was really to give him a few minutes alone with his parents. Giving them both a big hug, he got them to promise that they’d come out to Europe on vacation in the summer, as his guests. Then he looked down the hallway toward the kitchen and the mud room beyond.

“You won’t put them up for adoption without talking to me first?” Ryan asked his mom.

“I’ve already got them marked down as provisionally having adopted someone,” she said, then fixed him with a stern look. “But that young man will have to satisfy me he knows how to look after them properly, just like anyone else would. He’s got someone to be with them when he’s off playing tennis and a yard big enough for two large dogs, I take it?”

Ryan bit back a smile at the thought of the size of Josh’s yard. “That’s not a problem,” he assured her, anticipating the meticulous background check, reference verification, drug-screening, and personality-testing regimen that he suspected Josh would put any prospective dog-sitter through before trusting them with the pups. “He might need some guidance on looking after dogs, though. I think it’s all new to him.”

Ryan would be more than happy to give Josh that guidance. A couple of big, boisterous dogs was exactly what that mausoleum of a house needed, and to be welcomed home with unconditional love was exactly what Josh needed. But Ryan was probably getting ahead of himself, as usual. So far as he could tell, it hadn’t even occurred to Josh that he might be able to offer the puppies a home. All Ryan knew for certain was that the mixture of mountain air, his parents, and the puppies had somehow worked wonders for Josh. The pale, almost broken Josh he’d found in LA was gone, hopefully never to return.

Josh Andrews was back. And, if he was to be believed, he was ready to play some damn tennis.

Chapter 24

T
HE
flight to London gave Ryan time to think. In his parents’ house and in the private, two-bedroom cabin they’d rented, he and Josh hadn’t had to hide anything. The minute they were in public again, all that had changed, and Ryan resented it fiercely.

It wasn’t as if tennis was like contact sports, where he could find himself a physical target out on the field because he was gay. Sponsors might drop him, but if they were going to do that, then they were the sort of company whose money he wouldn’t want. He also thought it possible that, if that happened, other sponsors would replace them, realizing that the association of their brand with tolerance would be viewed positively.

On the other hand, homophobic slurs were still rife in tennis and went unchallenged by most. Ryan knew that, by the law of averages, there would be some people who would have a real problem with him, especially with sharing a locker room with him. They’d probably refuse to practice with him, fearing to be seen as gay by association. Even closeted gay players might avoid him, fearful of exposure. It could, if things got really bad, finish the career he’d worked so hard for.

And yet, Ryan didn’t think he should have to hide who he was. The world was changing, no matter how slowly. Maybe his coming out would be one small contribution to that.

Thinking it through, he realized that at some point over the last few weeks, he’d subconsciously processed things and come to the decision that he wanted to come out. The only thing was, he couldn’t right now. People would start scrutinizing his friendship with Josh, and it wasn’t fair to put Josh in that position.

The consequence of pretending they were just friends was having to part from Josh at the hotel. They arranged to meet after supper, which left Ryan with time to get to the hotel gym and work out the kinks from the long flight, and also to have a word with the hotel manager. Mitchell wasn’t due to play at Queen’s, but Ryan thought it still worth speaking to the efficient-seeming woman about the security lapse at a previous tournament hotel, where a receptionist had given out a guest’s room number. He wouldn’t mind in the least if Mitchell found
him.
In fact, he’d welcome the opportunity to punch him, hard, without any witnesses, and that was despite the fact that Ryan didn’t believe in violence. He didn’t, however, like the thought that on finding out Josh had told Ryan, Mitchell might just take it into his head to pay Josh a visit. He knew Josh was able to take care of himself, but he didn’t know what poison might come out of Mitchell’s mouth as Josh sent him packing.

Ryan had spent a lot of time thinking what to do about Mitchell. He
hated
that the asshole could get away with what he’d done to Josh. He hated that he was getting away with whatever underhanded tactics he was using against other players. But what, exactly, could anybody do about it, short of arranging for him to have an accident one night? Ryan might have let himself fantasize about that for a few minutes before coming back to reality.

Ultimately, the only thing Ryan could think of was to beat him out on the tennis court. That was what mattered to Mitch most. After all, that was why he’d put so much time and effort into his schemes, even though there was no doubt he also got off on being a manipulative bastard. So Ryan threw himself heart and soul into ensuring his tennis was the best it possibly could be, and his physical conditioning was at its absolute peak. He and Josh had set themselves a strenuous biking program way up in the mountains in Colorado. They’d been sensible enough not to allow their innate competitiveness to lead them into stupid feats that would have an adverse effect on their bodies. Most of the time, anyway.

His first match at Queen’s was against Wu. He won in straight sets, but it was more the
way
he won that had Stefan sitting up and taking notice. He
owned
that court, and nobody was going to beat him, no matter what they tried.

“Whatever it was you had to do in America, I’m very glad you did it,” Stefan told him after the game. “That is the tennis I always knew you had in you.”

Ryan asked Stefan for the recordings of a number of matches so he could study them in his hotel room later. As well as his potential opponents for the next day, he asked for his last two matches with Mitchell. Watching his own performance would not make pleasant viewing, but he wanted to see what in his repertoire worked against Mitchell, and where Mitchell was most vulnerable. He also asked for Josh’s last match against Mitchell, and then, deciding he probably shouldn’t make his agenda quite so obvious, ended up with a shopping list of matches he wanted copies of.

“Why do I not simply clone my media drives and give you everything I have?” Stefan asked finally. And yeah, that did make sense. Up until now, Ryan realized that he’d let himself be guided by his coach when it came to studying his opponents. He’d put the work in, but it had been in reaction to what Stefan had suggested he do. It had been a bit of a wake-up call to see Josh spending hours in the media room in his house, both with and without Carlos, dissecting other players’ games along with his own. Maybe he couldn’t afford a media room with state-of-the-art digital display equipment, but his laptop would do just fine, thank you.