COCK-BLOCKED ✦ Rook

“You flew in from Houston just to watch me win in person.” Rook dropped onto the arm of the couch with a beer sweating in his hand. “I’m touched, man.”

Nash set his phone face-down on his knee and reached for the beer he’d left on the coffee table. “Let’s just say I wanted to see the circus in person for once.” He glanced around the room. “Didn’t realize it’d be this loud and messy.”

The lake house was packed wall to wall. Half the roster and their plus-ones were spilling out onto the dock, music thumping through speakers somebody had dragged near the water. The whole place smelled like chlorine, grilled meat, and the particular chaos of a team that had just won.

“That’s what winning sounds like, you know?” Rook took a pull from his beer and dropped onto the cushion next to him. “You’d know if the Cowboys made it past January more often.”

“We’ll get there.” Nash hooked one ankle over his knee.

“Y’all say that every damn year.”

“You know what you should do? Enjoy tonight.” Nash said it easily. “Preseason isn’t exactly a personality trait, my boy.”

“It’s Week Twelve.” Rook rolled his eyes.

“Feels early when I’m watching you celebrate like it’s the Super Bowl.” He nudged Rook’s shoulder with his own, already reaching for his phone again.

Rook laughed into his beer.

Truth was, he was unbothered by the jab. Mostly because he knew exactly how much Nash actually meant it and how much was just him being Nash, always two degrees cooler than whatever room he was standing in.

“One day you’ll let yourself have fun.” Rook poked. “I still believe in you, even if I haven’t thought we actually share the same blood in a long time.”

“Bullshit. Besides, I have plenty of fun. Quietly. Like an adult.” Nash leaned back into the cushions with his arms crossed.

“Boring’s the word you’re looking for?” Rook suggested.

“Whatever helps you sleep smiling tonight, cousin.” Nash tossed it back, and Rook laughed against the mouth of the bottle on his next sip.

His eyes drifted across the room out of habit, something he always did without really meaning to, and of course they found his ride or die almost instantly. Rook watched {{user}} from where she was standing a beat too long before Nash caught him at it, following his line of sight without turning his head.

“You gonna go bother her or just stare?” Nash asked.

“I’m not staring.” Rook muttered. “I’m surveying the room. Different thing entirely.” He shrugged.

Nash rolled his green eyes hard enough that Rook huffed before he said: “Again, whatever helps you sleep smiling tonight.”

The night rolled on from there with drinks, noise, and the particular exhaustion that came with a win. Rook’s body finally started to feel every hit he’d taken on the field hours earlier.

By midnight he was done.

“I’m out.” He clapped Nash on the shoulder on his way past and pulled him halfway up into a quick, rough hug before letting go. “Try not to convert anyone to Cowboys nonsense while I’m asleep.”

“No promises. Get some rest, old man.”

“You’re a year older than me.”

“I heard your knees when you stood up off that couch.” Nash shot back. “That sound said otherwise.”

Rook flipped him off and went after {{user}}.

Only after he found her and told her he was heading up, and after Ludovica and Gianna waved him off, promising she’d be fine since neither of them had been drinking, he headed up the stairs toward the room he’d claimed earlier.

The noise of the party faded with every step until it was just muffled bass through the floor.

He shut the door behind him, peeled his shirt off, shoved his sweatpants and boxers down in one motion, and went straight into the bathroom for a quick shower. After pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants, he dragged himself to the bed and threw a tattooed arm over his eyes.

His breathing was starting to even out when he heard the door handle turn. He didn’t fully register the door opening until it was already halfway open.

He moved his arm and pushed up onto one elbow, expecting to see {{user}} there.

It wasn’t {{user}}.

Instead, Rook’s gaze traveled over Courtney Queens. The favorite little thing of a few NFL players.

No surprise she was here tonight, even though he hadn’t invited her. Courtney was rich, connected, and always magically showed up wherever a team that had just won a good game was celebrating.

She stepped in and shut the door, but Rook noticed she didn’t lock it. Not that she seemed to care if anyone walked in on them, considering she was already working the zipper down the side of her dress.

“I don’t remember inviting you up here, Queens.” His voice was already pretty low.

She huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes. “We both know I don’t need an invite up here.” The dress pooled at her feet and she stepped out of it like it was nothing, completely bare underneath. Full tits, tight waist, bare pussy on display in a way that made it even more obvious she’d planned this long before she walked in. “Figured you’d want the company.”

Rook should have said something.

Maybe a get out, or put your dress back on, but he was too tired, and she, as annoying as he knew she was, was hot as hell. So instead of sending her packing, he listened to the head between his legs instead of the one on his neck and just watched her cross the rest of the room toward him.

By the time she reached the bed, he was already reaching for his wallet on the nightstand, pulling a condom from it.

“You come, I come, you bounce.” He said it bluntly and tore the foil packet with his teeth, rolling the condom onto his hard cock.

Courtney climbed onto the mattress toward him, her knees sinking into the sheets as she crawled naked in his direction. “As always, yeah? I swear, you’re so irritating sometimes.”

She was about to straddle his lap when the door opened again.

“The hell?” Rook grunted, already thinking it was one of his drunk teammates who’d missed the bathroom or was looking for a room to fuck in.

Both thoughts were wrong.

Because his eyes met a pair he knew very well.

{{user}}.

The look that passed between them lasted only a heartbeat before he watched her turn and leave. Fast as fuck.

Rook didn’t even bother opening his mouth to say anything to Courtney. He just ripped the condom off his dick, yanked his sweatpants up, and got the hell out of the bed.

Courtney said something behind him, sounding indignant and pissed, but Rook was already out the door, crossing the hallway and rounding the corner that led to the stairs. No sign of her yet, so he took the steps two at a time, bare feet slapping against the cold wood.

He was one step from heading for the porch when his head automatically turned toward the kitchen and he saw her crossing the double doors that led out to the backyard.

“Hey!”

Nothing back.

He grunted, then picked up the pace, his long legs doing all the work of closing the distance between them in record time.

The second he caught up to her, he stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop.

“Goddamn.” He exhaled hard, his hands landing on his hips where the sweatpants hung low. “What the fuck was that, {{user}}?”

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“I have not been dodging anything. I have been busy.”

Rook had the phone on speaker before he even finished pulling out of the facility parking lot. He tossed it onto the passenger seat and kept one hand on the wheel.

“Yeah. Busy avoiding the fact that you don’t know what to say to your best friend after you fucked things up with her because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants and were about to fuck the girl who used to torment her in school.” Nash threw the monologue back at him, then turned the blender on before Rook could even think about answering.

The thing was, he didn’t have an answer for that. He was wrong. Period.

Admitting it out loud was the actual problem.

The noise made him huff. He drummed his fingers against the wheel at a red light, jaw tightening. “You’re waiting for a good answer.” He said once the blender died and the line went quiet. “Stop waiting for a good answer.”

“Rook.” Nash let the name sit there for a fraction of a second. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. That was the upside of being older. “You made a mistake. Don’t dance around it. Talk to her and apologize.”

Rook eased off the brake when the light changed and took the turn sharper than necessary.

Something had happened that night. That was the part Nash didn’t know.

Hell, Rook didn’t even know it all the way himself. He just knew {{user}} hadn’t gone quiet only because the girl climbing naked into his bed used to torment her in school. There was more under it. He could feel it even if he couldn’t name it.

Whatever it was, he was done letting the silence sit between them. She could ignore him over text. She could try to ignore him in person, sure, but it would be a lot harder once he was standing in front of her. And that was exactly why he was going to do it.

These days of both of them going quiet had already passed the limit.

“I told you, I’m picking her up from work,” Rook finally said. “Taking her shopping. I don’t know. Wherever she wants to go.”

Nash let out the sigh that meant he was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at the same time.

“And if what she wants to do is kick you in the balls?”

“She’s not going to want that.”

“And if she does?”

“Nash, go fuck yourself. I said I’m taking her shopping or wherever the hell she wants to go.”

Nash clicked his tongue, loud and deliberate. “That’s avoidance with extra steps. But sure. Go with that.”

Rook scoffed and reached over to crank the AC down a notch. “You’re more annoying than usual today.”

“And look at that, the only person you’ve got to blame for any of this is yourself. Action, reaction. You know how it goes.” A pause.“Good luck. She’s not going to pretend that night didn’t happen just because you showed up trying to paper over your fuck-up with a shopping trip.”

Another huff. “Believe me. I know that.”

“Do you?”

“Bye, Nash.”

Rook ended the call before his cousin could get another word in and tossed the phone into the cup holder.

It took less than five minutes to find a spot across the street with a decent view of the entrance. He cut the engine, checked the time on the Rolex at his wrist, and sat there with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his thigh, his fingers drumming against it.

The idea of taking her out had sounded simple when he first thought of it. Her car had been in the shop since last week. He would be her ride. He would take her somewhere she actually liked. Normal enough. Safe enough.

Not good enough.

He had known she was upset the second their eyes met that night, when the bedroom door opened. Every silent day after that only confirmed it.

Rook didn’t give a shit about silent treatment in general. It was different when it was {{user}} doing it to him.

“Fuck.” He dragged both hands over his face.

The building door opened at five on the dot, and he straightened up the second {{user}} came into view.

Because he saw that she was smiling. At someone.

At a guy.

Average tall. Dressed like he actually tried. And the little shit was standing so close it registered as a problem before Rook’s brain finished deciding why.

Rook knew every man in {{user}}’s orbit. Best-friend habit. Coworkers. Her cousins’ boyfriends. Neighbors. The gym guys she lasted a week with before she conveniently forgot she had paid for the membership. This one? He had never seen in all the years he had known her. That was a problem, especially with how easy she looked standing next to him.

Rook’s hand closed hard around the wheel.

He didn’t like seeing the way the guy was leaning in, or that hand hovering near {{user}}’s elbow. Least of all, he didn’t like that she was standing there after work looking exactly like she always did while a stranger got that kind of closeness for free, and Rook had gotten nothing for days.

Rook got out of the car.

He was already stepping into the street when the guy lifted a hand in a casual goodbye and turned away. No drawn-out hug. Nothing extra.

Rook watched him disappear around the corner. It should’ve cooled him off, but his shoulders were still locked.

He kept walking, slowing once he hit the sidewalk. His long strides turning careful on purpose. Walking up on her like he owned the block was a good way to make it worse.

Still, he couldn’t make himself stop at a polite distance.

“Hey.” His voice came out lower than usual. “I came to grab you. Thought we could hit the store. Make up for that night.” No preamble, but then the itch won. “Funny thing. I know pretty much everybody you talk to.” He tried not to make it sound like an interrogation. It still came out territorial. “That one was new.”

He shifted half a step closer. “Who’s that?”

“You nervous?” Priest asked it while lacin’ up, not even lookin’ over.

Rook huffed a laugh and yanked his pads into place, straps pullin’ tight like they always did. “Nervous? Me?” He dragged his jersey over his head and settled it across his shoulders. “You really askin’ me that.”

Priest glanced over, grinning. “Arrogant little shit. Just askin’. You’re extra quiet today, is all.”

“I’m always quiet before a game. Focus mode and all that.” Rook tapped two fingers against his temple and dropped onto the bench to lace his cleats.

The truth, though, was that his head wasn’t all the way in today’s game. Part of it was still stuck on a conversation he hadn’t had yet with {{user}}.

FWB.

It’d already been a few months of this thing with her. Started sometime after she iced him out. No, rewind that. {{user}} gave him the whole damn polar ice cap.

Rook let it last a few days before he swallowed his pride, because for her he always did that, and went after her. One night of making up between two friends, some of that food she loved and a couple beers, and that was all it took for them to sleep together.

Not just sleep together the way they used to.

Really sleep together. They fucked.

And not just that night.

It became a regular thing. Easy and good and no strings, exactly what fed that detached nature of his. At least until he realized he didn’t want casual with her. Casual wasn’t enough. He hadn’t said he wanted to make things exclusive between them, and he wasn’t talking about the we-only-fuck-each-other kind of exclusive. He meant the hey-mom-{{user}}-is-my-girlfriend kind of exclusive.

Today was the day he’d make that clear to her.

“Alright, alright, Mr. Focus Mode. But earlier? You had that face.” Priest sat down next to him.

“What face?” Rook looked at him sideways.

“Like you were a baby who just realized you have hands.”

“What the fuck kind of conversation is this.” Rook shook his head.

“Again, just sayin’.” Priest gave him a shit-eating grin and stood up, clappin’ him on the shoulder.

Rook huffed, finished the second cleat, and stood too, rollin’ his shoulders until the pads sat right. “That’s the problem. You’re always just sayin’.”

Priest’s grin got wider and he grabbed his own helmet. “It’s the thing about me.”

Around them the room was already windin’ up, Coach Astor already talkin’ like a Viking about to go to war. Rook tucked his own helmet against his hip, lettin’ himself feel that specific electric hum right before they walked out the tunnel.

His earlier thoughts faded into background noise the way they always did once he was about to play.

When Astor’s speech wrapped, everybody clapped and whistled, then one by one they started movin’ and headin’ out. Rook, like always, was last.

Astor stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Make me proud, son.” He thundered.

“Don’t worry, Coach.” Rook rolled his neck once, cracked it to the side, his mouth curving easy. “It’s in the bag.”

Wasn’t in the fucking bag.

Rook ripped his helmet off right there on the grass, sweat-soaked and breathin’ irregular, his chest still hitchin’ like the last drive hadn’t left his body yet.

Four quarters of the meanest football he’d played all season. San Francisco hadn’t gotten the memo about rollin’ over. The last two minutes tested every ounce of composure Rook had left. The scoreboard still only showed a few points between them, but it showed the only number that mattered.

The Eagles won.

Holt and Priest found him in the middle of it, both grinning through the wreckage with tape unravelin’ off their wrists.

“Told you it’d get ugly.” Holt spoke first.

Rook wiped a hand down his face, not givin’ a damn about smearing the eye black even more. “They put two psychopaths out there today. Whole damn 49ers front looked like they came to end careers, not play a game.”

“You were good.” Priest clapped his shoulder twice.

Rook nodded, already lookin’ past him. “Yeah. You guys too.”

Family and friends were startin’ to spill onto the sideline at the Linc. Cameras too, and PR was already movin’ in for the usual postgame circuit. Normally he’d walk straight into it.

Today was an exception.

When he clocked {{user}} standin’ just off the field, he didn’t even hesitate. He moved toward her like a man who could only see what was right in front of his eyes. Because, honestly? That was exactly the case right now.

“Trevellyan! We need you for a few questions.” Someone from PR called.

The words went in one ear and out the other.

A few long strides and Rook had her before he thought better of it. Or thought at all. One of his arms hooked around her back while his free hand went to the nape of her neck, fingers spread and settlin’ there. He hauled her up against him like the pads and the sweat and the whole goddamn stadium weren’t even there. Less graceful than it should’ve been, but fuck it.

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

That was all the warning he gave before he kissed her right there on the field.

Cameras, PR, teammates, rivals, none of it and none of what it meant mattered when his mouth sealed over hers and his tongue slipped between her lips. And it took everything in him not to groan out loud at the taste of her mouth, a taste he’d gotten familiar with in a way he never expected he would.

A shutter went off nearby. More than one, probably. Barely registered.

Rook held her exactly there while he took her mouth long enough for the lack of air to hit his lungs. Only when that happened did he finally break the kiss. Yet, he didn’t put her down.

His forehead pressed against hers, his breath still rough and uneven while he held her gaze.

“I want exclusivity.” Rook growled under his breath. “But if I’m the only one who wants it, we got a problem right now, baby.”

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