My Last Day with You

 

Ten Years Ago - Marcus

It was five a.m., and I was wide awake.

Today was the official first day of the rest of our lives. Never in a million years would I have ever dreamed I could be this happy. Thinking about the future for the two of us just lit me up. Aidan was sleeping on his stomach with his face turned toward me and his arms tucked under the pillow. 

He’d just cut his hair for my graduation last week, and I was dying to run my fingers through it. But I knew if I did, he’d wake up. Plus, I just wanted to study his face and the beard he was growing. His long dark eyelashes rested against his rosy cheeks and the pink lips that were swollen from last night and begged for me to kiss the fuck out of him. But I didn’t. I’d let him sleep. We’d both crashed after we made love into the wee hours of the morning.

My face almost hurt from the smile that seemed to be permanently plastered on my face since last week. I’d graduated with a degree in business, both LA teams wanted me next season, and I was in love with the most beautiful person I’d ever known. We were going to have the life we wanted.

I lay there and looked at Aidan. His heartbeat and breathing had synced with mine. It was just more proof we were meant to be together. My grandma used to say that we were two peas in a pod. It took everything in me not to roll over on him and wake him with my kisses on his bare body.

“Why are you awake this early?” 

I smiled because Aidan hadn’t moved a muscle or opened his eyes. 

“How did you know I was awake?”

Aidan cracked one eye open at me and blinked slowly. “I could feel you looking at me. Why are you staring at me while I sleep, stalker?”

I laughed out loud. “It’s not stalking if you’re in bed with me.” I trailed a finger over his bare shoulder down his back to his firm ass.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re awake. We just went to sleep ...a few hours ago.” 

Aidan was beginning to go back to sleep mid-sentence. My fucking face hurt from the joy I felt from head to toe.

“I know,” I murmured. “Just excited for everything.”

Aidan smiled, then opened both eyes to look at me. “Me too, babe. You deserve to play in the NFL, and you finished school too. I’m so proud of you.”

I leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “Yeah, and I have you.”

Aidan grinned, “Yeah, you do. Forever.” He brought his hand up to cup my face. I took it and kissed his palm, then pushed him back so I could get my naked body on his.

His mouth found mine, and our hands roamed and memorized each other. We kissed slowly, full of passion and love for each other. Aidan’s right hand rubbed up and down my spine while his left grabbed my ass cheek and pulled me closer to him. The feel of his hard cock rocking with mine brought my undying need for him to the surface.

We frotted together a few minutes until Aidan brought his hand to my crease and gently ran his fingers along it, gradually closing in on my hole.

When he found where he wanted to be, I dropped my back from the kiss to breathe and moan when he breached my hole.

“God, baby. I need you to fuck me.” I was blissed out with my eyes slammed shut, and my breathing hitched. Before I could come, I wrapped my arms around him and rolled to my back, taking Aidan with me.

I bent my knees and spread my long legs apart so Aidan could settle between them. Reaching over for the lube we’d left on the nightstand, he sat back on his heels with it in hand.

I watched as the love of my life lubed up his cock to take me. When I thought he was ready, he slipped his hands under my bent knees and pushed me back to expose my hole.

Without a word, he bent down and slicked my hole, making my breath hitch. 

“Oh, fuck, that feels good,” I grunted as he licked and probed me with his tongue. I took my cock in my hand and began to jerk. Aidan reached up, pushed my hand away, and replaced it with his lubed one, slowly jacking me with enough force to keep me hard but not enough to make me come. 

“Babe,” I called out in a ragged voice. He knew.

Aidan pulled back and lowered my legs to the bed.

“Can you take me?” he asked with a raspy edge to his voice.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Moving closer, Aidan slowly slipped inside me, making a guttural groan escape my chest. Feeling his dick sliding in and out of me while grazing my prostate quickly sent me to the edge. 

He leaned down to my mouth. “I wanna kiss you while you fall apart.”

Yeah, I wanted that too. 

Our mouths met, and the kiss turned more frantic as he pumped in and out of me. I jerked my cock and kissed him back as long as I could. When I needed to breathe, I pulled back and locked my gaze with gray-green eyes.

“I love you,” I rasped out as my orgasm took over, clenching around him.

“Love…you…more,” Aidan shuttered as he came deep inside me.

I couldn’t imagine my life getting any better than this. I was the luckiest man in the world.

Breathing slowed, and Aidan collapsed onto my chest. We dozed for a few minutes before Aidan picked up his head and looked at me.

“Think you can sleep now?”

I just looked at the love of my life and smiled.

“Maybe, but I just wanna hold you close right here while you sleep.”

I could feel Aidan’s smile against my chest. “Let’s clean up then.”

We stumbled out of bed and into the shower for a quick clean-up. We stripped the sheets from the bed, threw them on the floor, and then crawled back into Aidan’s bed under the blanket.

I held Aidan to me and let sleep find me for a little while longer.

 

****

I walked through the glass double doors of Premier Sports for my one p.m. appointment with my new agent, Michael Young. He was brand spanking new, and I would be his first client. As I figured, a young guy would be okay with my personal life and be more willing to help me stay under the radar.

After giving my name to the receptionist, it wasn’t long before Michael came to greet me.

“Marcus,” he said, walking toward me with his hand extended to shake.

“Hey, Michael. How are ya?” 

“Good. Ready to make some decisions?”

“I am,” I replied. “Ready to get started on the rest of my life.”

Michael shook his head but never met my eyes. That alone alarmed me. He was never quiet when we met to discuss things.

When we were seated in his office, Michael sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his mouth. His eyes met mine, and I could see something wasn’t right.

“What’s going on?” My gut churned with dread.

He leaned forward, put his elbows on the desk, and then looked at me. “Both LA teams have decided to go with defensive players in the first round. Their reps called me yesterday to alert me to the change. They had injuries to key players and felt they needed to start with a first-round defensive player.”

I sat there stunned for a minute. “What exactly does that mean for me?”

“That means the draft order has been shifted around. Instead of being in the top five, you’re now in the top twelve. The next team looking for a wide receiver is Boston, at number eleven. They loved your performance at the Combine and need a wideout.”

“But, I need to stay in California.” There had to be a way to work something out.

“What is there to keep you in California? As the number eleven draft choice, you are looking at a four-year deal with a salary somewhere around twenty-four million dollars, in addition to a twelve million dollar signing bonus. What would make you even consider passing that up?”

“What if I went in a lower round? Would that keep me here in LA?” I was starting to panic a little. Aidan was in his second year of law school. He’d need to intern at a firm, and what would that do to him finishing school on time?

“Marcus, listen to me. Only first-round draft choices are guaranteed a contract and a signing bonus. Are you willing to give up millions of dollars just to stay in LA, where they don’t really need you? If you waited for them, there’s a chance you’ll see very little playing time. Is that what you want?”

I sat there and looked at him. My heart was racing, and I didn't know what to say. All I could think about was what about Aidan. I couldn’t drag him away from his school. He only had two years to finish.

“Marcus, what the hell is keeping you in LA?”

I cleared my throat and tried to remember this guy worked for me. I looked Michael in the eye and told him the truth.

“My boyfriend is in law school at USC. He needs to finish, and I need to be in the LA area.”

Michael just looked at me as if I were crazy. He studied me for a minute, and I began to sweat. 

“Is there a problem?” I asked, a little skeptical at his lack of support.

He sighed before speaking. “My job is to look out for your best interests, Marcus. Honestly, your personal life is none of my concern. That’s private. Personally, I have nothing against same-sex relationships. But the NFL owners take public opinion very seriously. Ticket sales drive salaries. Right now, it would be career suicide for you to come out, and it would be unheard of for me to advise you to turn down thirty-six million dollars over the next four years. And that’s just salary, not to mention endorsements and merchandise royalties.”

God fucking damn, that’s a lot of money. 

“I need to talk to him about all this.” I could see the confusion in his expression.

“Seriously?” He shook his head. “Let me put this another way, Marcus. If it's even hinted in the media that you are gay, bi, or fluid, I can not guarantee that you will get a contract from any team. Even if you were going to be the number one draft choice, I still couldn’t promise you a contract. It’s just how the world is right now.”

I dropped my head into my hands and let the panic take over.

Michael came around and sat down in the chair beside me.

“Marcus, if you were not in a relationship, would you hesitate about taking the deal with Boston?”

I looked up at him. After weighing things in my mind, I answered him. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Michael shook his head. “I get the feeling you are in love with him. And if he loves you as much as you love him, wouldn’t he understand about Boston? He’s got two more years of school, and you need to get your first contract solidified. Thirty-six million in salary alone, Marcus. Think about the life you guys could have after he finishes law school.”

He was beginning to make sense. 

“And he will need to study and take the Bar Exam. That thing is a bitch. I just took it two months ago. Do yourself a favor, consider this offer and let him finish school. Neither of you needs any distractions.”

Michael’s advice was beginning to make sense to me. Aidan could finish here, and I could get established in Boston. When he was finished, he could come to Boston. 

“You’ve got to stay under the radar, Marcus. My advice is simple. Break things off, for now, give both of you time to settle, and then see where you are in two years. You’d be a fool to turn down that kind of money. Guaranteed money or nothing.”

I could secure our future. We’d never have to worry about money in our lives. We could go anywhere and do anything. I had to cut Aidan free. And it would take everything I had just to walk out of here without breaking down. But I had to do this for us. For our future. I couldn’t face him and break things off. I’d have to do it some other way.

Please forgive me, baby.

 

 

Ten Years Ago - Aidan

​

I hadn’t heard from Marcus since his meeting with his agent at one this afternoon. It was after five, and I was starting to get worried. I called his cell, but he didn’t pick up.

So I texted him.

Me: Hey, babe. Where are you? Starting to get worried.

I waited for his reply. Nothing. So I paced and tried not to think about car accidents and emergencies.

Twenty minutes later, I sent another text.

Me: Where are you? What’s going on?

I would call the agent's office if it weren't after five. But the worry was beginning to get the best of me.

Another hour passed, and nothing. I was going to kill Marcus for doing this to me. Asshole.

At seven p.m., a knock sounded on my door. I walked over and jerked the door open. And there he stood.

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been texting and calling you all afternoon!”

I wanted to slug him. I really did. But I also wanted to kiss the fuck out of him.

Marcus walked in. His mood was more somber than I  thought he would be. He grabbed me and hugged me to him. His hold was tight, and I felt every bit of love he had for me radiate through his skin. My anger died down, but he still hadn’t said anything.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.” 

Marcus finally loosened his hold and pulled back to look at me. His eyes were red, and he didn’t look happy.

“There’s nothing wrong, babe. I’ve been with my agent, going over contract offers, endorsement deals, and a lot of shit. The bottom line is we will be set for life when it’s all said and done. It’s just kinda hit me all of a sudden.”

“I’m happy for you, but you know I don’t care about the money. Why didn’t you answer my calls?” I wasn’t sure how I was feeling now.

“I’m sorry. I left my cell in the car, and it was dead by the time I got back out there. I gotta plug it in to charge.”

He kissed my cheek, then stepped away to find a charger. I followed him. He still had some explaining to do.

“What happened with the offers?” 

Marcus plugged in his phone and turned to me. “I haven’t decided anything yet with all the details. I told him to give me a few days to think about it. But I can tell you the salary alone is looking like thirty-six million over four years. And that doesn’t include endorsements or merchandise royalties.”

Damn. That’s a fuck ton of money.

I shook my head, a little stunned at the amount. 

“That’s a lot of money.” Smart, Aidan. Duh. 

“Yeah, it is. But I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight. My brain is fried,” Marcus laughed humorlessly.

A sense of unease washed over me, and I couldn’t shake it, no matter what I did. 

“I just wanna order some food and be with you tonight. Just me and you.” Marcus kissed me, and I couldn’t put my finger on why the kiss was different. It wasn’t our regular hunger and desperation to get to one another. It was sweet and tender.

“Sorry I made you worry,” he said, his forehead on mine while his hands ran up and down my back.

“Okay,” I said. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yeah, babe, everything’s fine. I’m just tired and hungry. All that shit is worse than a three-hour practice in the heat.” Marcus smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his beautiful eyes. I could sense something was off. I’d have to trust that he’d tell me when the time came.

So we ordered food from our favorite place and watched about twenty minutes of a movie on the sofa until we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

When we finally gave up tumbling on the sofa and went to bed, Marcus made love to me slowly and deeply. There wasn’t a desperate need to get to one another as quickly as possible. It was passionate, sweet, and reverent. It was so unlike us that it worried me.

Marcus took me once again at about three a.m. before ringing every bit of pleasure out of me. We cleaned up, crawled back into bed, and then passed out with Marcus wrapped around me.

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone. It wasn’t unusual for Marcus to go out for a run or to the gym to work out. 

But when he still hadn’t returned three hours later, I started to worry again. Bile churned in my stomach, and all the insecure feelings from last night came back. I wasn’t sure what to do. So I sat on the sofa and waited. 

Six hours later, he still hadn’t called, texted, or returned. I was awash with panic and worry, but I knew it was on purpose if he didn’t call. And I refused to chase after him.

Two days had passed, and I had eaten very little. I was numb and cried until I couldn’t produce tears anymore. I stayed on the sofa, clutching Marcus’s pillow, and drifted in and out of sleep. I almost lost track of the days.

How could he just walk away from me without a word? We were going to spend our lives together. Get married, have some kids, and grow old together. I just didn’t understand.

I finally got my answer from SportsCenter the day before the NFL draft. Marcus Monroe was projected to be the eleventh pick in the first round by Boston. Not Los Angeles. Not San Francisco. Boston. As far away as he could possibly get on the East Coast.

Marcus had left without saying goodbye, or fuck you, or anything. He left me here to wither and die. Alone. 

After a week, I refused to let myself sink deeper into this depression. Alex thought I was sick because that’s what I told him. But when I saw him again, I had to get myself together and move on. I only allowed myself to think about him at night when I could cry into my pillow. And each day, I grew a little angrier and allowed it to replace the hurt and longing I felt for him.

I hope all your money makes you happy and keeps you warm at night. I hope it was worth it.

Fuck you, Marcus.

Fuck you for breaking my heart.

Fuck you for making promises you didn’t keep. 

Fuck you for making me love you. 

Fuck you for leaving me like this without closure. 

Just, fuck you.