Page 41 of Changing the Play

“Is your little boyfriend waiting for you?” Marcus asks, sneering at me.

I really fucking hope he is. God, he looks so fucking good in my jersey. Likemine. And as soon as this is over and I can get back to him, that’s what I intend to make him.

I ignore Marcus. Just like I’ve ignored him since the half. It was all fine until he noticed Darcy in the stands in my jersey. Then he started letting people past him deliberately, and the second my body slammed into the turf, I was pissed.

It’s not like me to get upset like that, but hey, it seems if there’s one thing I won’t tolerate, it’s someone fucking with Darcy. And that’s the problem. If he had said bad things about me? Fine. But not Darcy. “Stop talking about him. Keep his name out of your mouth,” I say, my voice calm and restrained.

Marcus laughs. “Why? Are you offended that I clocked your gay ass?”

“Not gay.”

And I’m not. Sure, I’m attracted to Darcy, but as far as I can tell, he’s the only man I’ve been attracted to. Although, the more I think about it, the more I wonder about my quarterback during my freshman year, and sure, I can say when a guy is hot objectively. So what does that make me? Bi? I don’t really care much about the labels, but I’m not gay. At least not fully. Either way, it doesn’t matter. This asshole needs to shut up.

I finish getting dressed in a hurry and make my way quickly out of the locker room, ready to find Darcy as soon as humanly possible.

Marcus, of course, isn’t going to let that slide. I make it three steps into the hall, and I’m being shoved forward. “Going to find your little faggot boyfriend, Hale?”

Anger explodes in my stomach and, without missing a beat, I turn and shove him against the wall, pinning him there with my arm across his throat. “I already fucking told you. Don’t talk about him like that.”

He laughs, his eyes lighting up. I know I’m playing right into what he wants, but I really couldn’t care less at this point. “What? Is he not bending you over enough? You’d think getting laid would loosen you up some. Or maybe it’s just that boy pussy isn’t as good as real pussy. Is that it, Hale?”

Before I have a chance to say anything, Ben jumps into it, rushing up beside me. “Bro, shut the fuck up. No one wants your bigoted-ass comments.”

Marcus laughs again, and I push harder against his throat. “You can’t deny it, Hale. We all saw his little fag ass sitting up there in your jersey like he was something special.”

My anger almost boils over, and I force myself to take a deep breath before I do something I regret. Something that will get me expelled and make me lose my scholarship. “Don’t fucking talk about him like that. You have no idea what type of person he is. You’re not even good enough to say his fucking name. I’m going to let you go, and you’ll leave without another word, or I’ll have your ass off this team.”

I watch his eyes for a second, my entire body shaking with my barely concealed fury, and then release him and step back. I don’t miss the way he sucks in quick breaths before he finally walks away.

I turn to my right just in time to see Darcy grab Parker’s arm in a panic, like he’s trying to get away. Not a fucking chance I’m going to let that happen. I take off after him, unable to stop myself from letting my apologies for what I’m sure he heard reflect on my face. I glance down at him wearing my number and up to his face, smiling at the way he looks in my jersey.

I don’t stop moving until I’m right in front of him. He’s blinking up at me like he’s not sure how I got here, but also a little like he’s considering running away. Before I even decide to do it, my finger is tracing the letter on the front of his jersey.

I look up at him, and within a split-second, Darcy is raising up on his tip-toes. He brings his mouth so close to mine I can feel his breath on my lips.

A shiver races down my spine. “I’m going to do something. And if you hate it, you can stop me,” he murmurs, his lips catching on mybottom one with each word, and then he’s slamming his lips onto mine.

I forget how to breathe. I forget Marcus’s bullshit. Hell, I think for a second, I forget how to kiss. But only for a second. Because when I feel a slight hesitation and him start to pull away, I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and haul him closer to me with a low groan, finally figuring out the kissing him back thing.

He lets out a small sound against my lips, and it’s almost my undoing. I tighten my grip on him, parting my lips in silent invitation. He takes me up on it, tilting his head and deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth.

Holy shit. I’m kissing Darcy Sinclair.

Fuck.

He moans. It’s deep and low and nothing at all like a woman’s moan, and it makes my cock throb and my knees weak. His hands slide up my back and tangle in my hair. When he tugs on the strands, electricity fires up my spine and forces a gasp from my throat. He doesn’t seem at all concerned—just presses his body closer to mine and swallows the sound.

This is consuming. Overwhelming. Fucking life-altering.

His teeth graze my bottom lip and I moan, grinding my hips against his body to get some relief for my aching cock.

Someone clears their throat. Loudly. And we jump apart from each other. We stare at each other for a second. He looks… fucking sinful—pupils wide, lips wet and red, chest heaving.

There’s a slow clap from the right, and we both turn to see Parker smirking at us. “Wow. What a show.”

I’ll be so honest, I was so focused on Darcy, I didn’t even notice them standing there. Darcy groans, covering his face with his hands. Fuck. I hope he’s not regretting any of that. I might have to snatchhim up and run away with him if he is. “Are you okay?” I ask, ignoring Parker’s eyes volleying between us.

Darcy nods, peeking at me through his fingers. Jesus, he’s adorable. “Then why are you hiding?” I whisper.

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