Title: JFH: Justin F**king Halstead
Author: GiGi DeGraham
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 07/16/2024
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 80200
Genre: Contemporary Sports, contemporary, new adult, gay, friends to lovers, geeks, sports, athletes, university students, professional football, celebrities, sexual assault, disabilities, closeted, family dynamics, hurt/comfort
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Description
Ethan Andrews never saw Justin Halstead coming. A broody jock with a propensity for studying. A hot-mess conundrum who, for some reason, continues to show up at Ethan’s dorm room door.
Something is happening between them, but one particular sport stands in the way. Ethan never imagined falling for an overbearing, overprotective athlete with a Hall of Fame future and a secret heart of gold.
Taking the giant leap out of the closet nearly killed Ethan, and no one seems to understand his desire to close that door and stay inside his safe place. Strangely, Ethan finds he’s not alone, and it’s with the last person he ever expected to be his biggest supporter…
Future NFL Quarterback—Justin F**king Halstead.
(A trope-bending love story)Excerpt
JFH: Justin F**king HalsteadGiGi DeGraham © 2024All Rights Reserved
Chapter OneJustin
Justin ran his hand over his jean-covered thigh and brought the other up to his forehead, shielding his eyes as he focused on his textbook, seeing nothing. Don’t look, don’t look, he told himself as his knee began to bounce. His fingers pulled the curved and frayed brim of his ballcap lower as if it could camouflage him. Justin pinched the bridge of his nose, and he knew he was going to do it. Down to his soul, he couldn’t not look. He couldn’t resist it—this undeniable urge. It happened every time.
And he looked.
It was the guy.
Ethan Andrews was supposed to be studying for an end-of-the-first-week fall quiz just like Justin, but currently, he joked around with his study group, who all shushed one another through their bouts of laughter in the library. Ethan grinned, nodding convincingly through his fight, gripping his side as if in pain. His shoulders shook, his head moving back and forth in what seemed like a desperate plea to make it stop. The others in the group were nearly goners, too, as they tried to abide by the library aide, who warned them once again. This was her third trek back to their table. Something over there was beyond funny. The entire group was on the verge of getting kicked out of the fourth-floor study lounge.
Justin’s cheek pinched as he tried not to smile himself. He’d seen Ethan Andrews in action like this before. He was just funny, or so Justin thought, though he’d never actually been in on the joke since he didn’t even know the guy. When Justin would see him on campus, Ethan was always with others: a friend or someone from a class. Justin rarely saw him alone. There never seemed to be an opportunity to strike up a conversation or accidentally bump into him. Not that Justin would.
But he’d turned this strange obsession into a terrible habit, this expert-level Ethan-watching. So, Justin wasn’t buying it, not when he caught the brief moments that made him wonder. The ones overlooked by others when Justin saw those barely there glimpses of sadness concealed behind brave smiles and mixed in with the guffaws. He peeked between his fingers. And there, that little swallow, the quick glance downward, and Justin waited for it. The telltale subconscious rub of fingers across the forehead before Ethan went right back to laughing.
The girl working as an aide approached the table again. This time, her firm fists were pissed-off-planted on her hips. She waved around at the other students trying to study, and Justin quickly looked down again. The entire table turned to take in the only other student on the floor: him.
Justin flipped the geology lab workbook page so he wouldn’t look suspicious, but he hadn’t read a damn thing since Ethan had arrived and joined the group. This guy was everywhere, all the time. At the Coffee Stop, in the science lab, in his geology class, running around the track, in the gym, and now, in one of the last places Justin thought he’d see him, in the library. The one place Justin thought he’d be safe from his one-and-only distraction and the constantly nagging question: Which was the real Ethan?
Realizing he couldn’t do it, not with Ethan-ology overshadowing geology, Justin packed up his things, slipped out, and headed back to his dorm. He’d have to try to study there. Though it was nearly impossible to concentrate in his room, with all the testosterone and adrenaline-driven antics in the hallways, a football always flying, or someone knocking on the door every five minutes to see if he wanted to join them or go to a party.
Despite the chaos, at least he’d be free from the close proximity of Ethan Andrews in the library. Justin sighed; his reaction to the guy confused him more every time. Yeah, he knew what his mind and body were trying to tell him, but it was also something he could never pursue. Sure, the world had changed in leaps and bounds, but if he wanted to play ball, he had to keep that shit locked down. Oh, the NHL had tried it with “Pride Night” and special jerseys, but even they’d skated that back faster than a five-hole slap shot.
The media vultures were waiting for someone else to get outed in any sport, not just football, and it wouldn’t be Justin. At least two big leaguers had come out, but still. Not when he was only in his second year of college ball. Not when he didn’t even know for himself. And his parents, he didn’t think they would care. They weren’t the problem. Justin knew exactly who the problem was.
Justin unlocked the door to his dorm room, dodging bodies roughhousing, and dropped his backpack on the bed. Frustrated with himself, he pulled out his books and began again. He was a good twenty minutes into preparing for the quiz the next day when he realized he’d left his phone and some of his notes at the library. Justin squeezed his eyes closed tight for a moment.
I can be such a dumbass sometimes.
Justin knocked on his suitemate’s door. He used Shawn’s phone to call himself, hoping someone, the aide—he prayed—would hear it buzzing on the plastic seat. That hope died, swirled a few times, and went right down the drain when someone else answered his phone.
“This is Justin Halstead’s phone,” a guy said, and Justin ran a frustrated hand over his face, already knowing who had his phone.
“This is Justin,” he said.
“Oh, hey, Justin, this is Ethan Andrews,” Ethan said.
Of course, it is.
Justin could only shake his head. This is what he got for being so distracted, a lurker—an Ethan-watcher—and here came karma. Maybe not a lurker since that was creepy, but Justin was…well, very aware of Ethan, like, constantly aware. Yeah, he was going with that word choice and steering clear of anything sounding more stalkerish. He definitely wasn’t that guy.
Ethan’s bright and teasing tone didn’t falter. “Yeah, I guess you figured out you left your phone in the library. And who knew you took such copious notes, Justin Halstead.” Then, he laughed.
Justin was momentarily distracted by the sound of Ethan’s great laugh. He could hear papers shuffling in the background and then a pen being intentionally clicked several times.
“Nice pen, too,” Ethan said.
“Uh…” Justin had no words, hoping Ethan would keep talking. Keep laughing. And holy shit, Ethan knew his name, his full name.
“It’s really smooth; the ink just glides. No wonder your notes are so neat,” Ethan said.
Justin silently agreed. It was a great pen, a wide-point TUL, and it was like writing with soft butter. Justin liked it because it felt faster than most, and he could get everything down before his professor moved on.
“Yeah, um, I like it,” Justin said, sounding like an idiot. He shook his head; Jesus, he could do better than this.
Ethan belted out a laugh. “Tell me how you really feel.”
There was a pause Justin didn’t fill.
“All right,” Ethan continued, “down to business, it seems. Where are you? I’ll swing by and drop off your things. I’m about to leave the library now.”
“Yeah, I’m at the football dorm.” Justin’s knee was at it again, and he pressed his heel to the floor to make it stop. He glanced at Shawn’s phone screen when there was no response.
Ethan let out a nervous laugh. “Eh, maybe you come pick it up from me, then?”
“Nah, man, it’s cool. You guys were studying for the quiz, right?” Justin asked, slightly panicked as his suitemate walked into his room and glanced at him.
“‘It’s cool,’ he says. Me in the football dorm,” Ethan said slowly, questioningly.
“It is. Just come up the stairs, and I’m in 214. And thanks for finding my things.”
“Yep. Anything good on here I can snoop through?”
Justin thought for a moment. “Hardly, but, hey, thanks again.”
“Yeah,” Ethan said and hung up.
Justin thanked Shawn as he handed the phone back to him. “I left mine at the library.”
Glancing around, Justin made sure his shit was squared away in his room after Shawn left. His heart hammered, and the shirt beneath his armpits began to feel sweaty.
Holy shit.
Ethan Andrews was coming to his room. Justin could finally get his answer. He frowned. Maybe getting his answers wasn’t the greatest idea because then Justin would have no reason to continue keeping an eye on Ethan.
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Meet the Author
GiGi DeGraham lives, plays, and learns in New Orleans. She is a proud southerner and enjoys fixing up old houses and writing. Most of her story and character ideas develop while sanding and painting. She loves to roller skate and has a favorite author-named cat called Irving, after Washington Irving. You’ll always find her with an audiobook in her ear and listening to everything narrated by Kirt Graves.GiGi prefers the outdoors when the weather permits, going on rock and fossil hunts or visiting local rock shops. Otherwise, she’s clacking away at her keyboard until the wee hours. GiGi firmly believes downtime should be spent on a porch swing. GiGi is a life-long supporter of the LGBTQ+ community.
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