Rules Of The Game: Book 1

28; Playing With Fire

𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟺𝚝𝚑, 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢
Parkers POV

Miles. Miles. Miles. Miles.

My head is like a broken record player that refuses to shut off.

I find myself thinking about Miles during class and how perfectly he handled my inexperience in bed.

I think about him on the way home from school and how he wrecked my life when he walked into it.

I wonder why I don't have the guts to look at him all day on Tuesday and then again on Wednesday.

I imagine a life where I'm not wondering those things and can comfortably sleep snuggled up against him all night without wondering if my life is over.

Miles is putting me back together.

He is ruining me.

And he's also ruining my football practice.

My cleats snag on the dirt, and I stumble at the memory of his hands racing down my chest to settle in between my legs.

I loathe how these sexual thoughts come up at the worst times.

Curses fly from my mouth as I madly dash forward to catch the football that comes flying out from the machine. I'm a few strides behind, and the machine is faster. The pigskin grazes my fingertips as it launches past, narrowly missing Joshua, who's on standby.

Greyson sighs and shakes his head as he leaves his position at the cones to walk over to me.

"Kid," he starts and scratches behind his head, not-so-discreetly hiding his irritation, "what the hell are you doing?"

My chest tightens in a sudden surge of embarrassment.

Thinking about the boy that I hooked up with two days ago.

"I..." Swallowing, I lick my dry lips and adjust the helmet strap under my chin. "I'm sorry. I'm thinking about the state game, and I got distracted."

Greyson snorts. "Parker. Son. Look, you've been in this sport since you could practically walk. I have damn near watched you grow up on this field, you understand me?"

I nod and look away. It doesn't take a psychic to know where he's taking this conversation.

"I'm only saying this because I know you. I know your habits, and this," Greyson waves both hands in a large circle, "this isn't fitting the bill. You've never gotten shaken about something as petty as a state game. Now, this time when I ask, don't lie to me. What are you doing?"

It hurts to inhale. I can't look at my uncle. Sweat drips down the back of my shirt. "I'm distracted."

"By what?"

The boys milling around at their stations slow down and crane their necks as they look over here, curious about why Greyson is practically bent down to my height.

"Dumb shit. Relationships, drama."

It's not the whole truth. However, it's also not a lie.