Page 29 of Changing the Play

Darcy steps away. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was just trying to work the tension loose a little.”

I’m definitely uncomfortable, but not in the way he’s probably thinking. I give him a smile. “You didn’t. You ready for football?”

He’s a little hesitant, but finally nods. “Let me go grab the cookies?”

I forgot all about the cookies. “Yeah, for sure. I’ll get the game started while you’re doing that.”

He turns on his heel and walks out of the bedroom. I let out a deep breath, trying to get myself to calm down and relax. By the time he comes back into the room, my dick has chilled out, and I’ve got the game pulled up on the TV.

Darcy stands awkwardly by the door, curious eyes exploring, like he wasn’t just in here. His gaze finds the stack of books in the corner, and his lips tilt up into a smile as he looks at them. “Wow.” He absently sets the box of cookies on the end of my bed and steps toward the books, picking up the one on top of the stack. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “This is quite the collection.”

I shrug, my cheeks heating. “I like the classics.”

“I can tell. My mom does too. She’s an English lit professor here. That’s how I got my name.” He runs his fingers reverently down the stack of books. “You know I never asked. What are your plans after graduation?”

“I want to teach English. High school level, though.”

He nods, setting the book down and turning to face me. He climbs onto the bed beside me, adjusting until his back is resting against the headboard and he’s turned to face me. “Because of your English teacher? Mrs. Jackson, right?”

He remembered. That makes something warm spread through me. “Yeah.” I smile, moving until I’m lying down and staring up at the ceiling. “She changed my life. She’s the reason for my love of reading. She helped me more than any other teacher. I want to honor her memory. But I also want to be to other kids what she was for me.”

Darcy makes a soft noise. “Her memory?”

I nod, the familiar tears burning my eyes. “Yeah,” I croak before clearing my throat. “She passed away last year after a long fight with breast cancer.”

He rests his hand on my bicep, giving it a little squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her what I wanted to do. She, um, was fighting, and it didn’t seem right. And then she took a turn and passed away before I had the chance.” I chuckle a little, wiping at my eyes. “Sorry for being a… what did you call me? Whiny baby?”

I expect him to laugh, and when he doesn’t, I glance at him. He looks serious, his eyes searching my face. “There’s nothing wrong with being emotional. It doesn’t make you whiny. It makes you human. It makes you real. She sounds like an amazing woman. She would be really proud to know you’re following in her footsteps and that she was the inspiration for that.”

His words almost make me cry more. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He smirks. “I usually am.”

I can’t help but laugh. The emotional moment is broken, thankfully, and I hit play on the football game. Darcy leans down to grab thecookies, then settles in beside me before opening the box and handing one over to me.

“You’re joking!” Darcy yells as he sits up midway through the third quarter, startling me.

“What?”

He blinks at me, incredulous. “That was clear pass interference. So what? They just do what they want? They aren’t even going to call it?”

My jaw drops open in shock. “Are you going to be the type to yell at the TV like they can hear you?”

He ignores my question, barreling on with his indignation like he didn’t even hear me. “What’s the point of having that penalty if they aren’t going to call it? Ridiculous.”

I chuckle. “Wait until you see them miss a blatant face mask call.”

He slumps against the bed. “Football is annoying. I hate you for making me invested.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

He breathes an annoyed sound that makes me smile. He’s fucking adorable. In like, the most platonic way there is.

By the time the game is over, he’s still stewing over it. “They won, Darcy. You don’t have to be so upset about it.”

He huffs, sitting up again. “I don’tcarethat they won. Icarethat they didn’t follow their own rules. It’s crap.”

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