Page 11 of Rules of Play

“I don’t get it, though,” I said, not letting him get off the hook so easily. We stepped into the bar, but it was quiet tonight, and I kept my voice low for Shane. “Why aren’t you dating anyone? It’s not like you couldn’t pick up a guy if you wanted to.”

He snorted as if I’d said a mean joke. Then he looked at me and discovered just how serious I was. He frowned in thought, then inched a little closer. “I don’t even know where I would start.”

It clicked together. A shy nerd with a head full of dreams and wonders and a tongue so tied he didn’t dare speak to people in fear of tripping over his words. I grinned. “Good thing you’re shadowing me, then,” I said. “Watch and learn.”

I led Shane to the bar and ordered us a light beer each. He wasn’t thrilled by it, but he didn’t fuss. We sat on bar stools and faced one another.

“Personal question,” I offered.

“If you must,” Shane sighed.

“Have you ever dated anyone?” It was an important thing to establish if I were to show him a few flirtatious moves.

Shane’s reddening face answered before his lips had a chance. “Um, no. I haven’t…been…” He shook his head.

“Gotcha. And are you waiting for the special one?” I asked. It wasn’t a joke or a tease. Some people wanted to wait. I didn’t see how that was possible when so many were throwing themselves at you for attention and one-off fun, but good for those who could resist the song of the mermaids. Me? I shipwrecked every single time.

But Shane thought I was making fun of him. His eyebrows flattened over his eyes, and he shook his head. “Funny.”

“That’s a no?” I asked.

“I think this was a mistake,” Shane told me flatly. “We shouldn’t be so familiar, Patrick.”

“What? I’m just getting to know you,” I said. “If you’re on the market, guys should know that. You know? Shadow me, now.” The good news was that he didn’t get up and leave. He observed as I narrated what I would do. “Look around and see if there’s anyone catching your attention. For example, those three girls over there.”

Shane snort-chuckled.

“It’s applicable across the spectrum,” I said wisely. “If I were here to hook up, I’d say they were on the lookout. See howthey’re keeping the chatter to a minimum? They’re watching, waiting, weighing.” And sure enough, the blonde glanced at me, her gaze lingering on mine for a few exhilarating moments before she looked away and pretended like it hadn’t felt amazing. “Be like that,” I said. “If you want to be picked up. Or, if you’d rather be the one doing the work, watch and learn.” I lifted my beer and waited for the next time the blonde looked at me. My eyebrows gave the smallest wiggle as I tilted my glass in a little salute.

She smiled at me, shaking her head as if to reprimand me for being such a devil, and my heart thundered. I turned to Shane to tell him the hard part was over, but he had a lost look in his eyes and a stoney face.

I shrugged. “Goes something like that, anyway.”

Shane cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Some people just have it. Others don’t.” He held his backpack tighter. “I think I should go.”

I wanted to protest, but he was already up, saying we would see each other tomorrow and wishing me luck with the girl. As he walked away, I watched him disappear. Alone, I sat at the bar with my half-finished beer, not really interested in the girl anymore.

FIVE

SHANE

I savoredthe times when he walked in front of me. It wasn’t often. He usually went shoulder to shoulder with me, setting our pace and chatting endlessly. Those special moments, on stairs or in a crowd, when Patrick stretched his stride and walked in front, were incredible. He couldn’t see my face. He couldn’t see how the breezy sea-and-pine scent of his cologne made my eyes glassy with desire and my lips part as if someone was going to kiss them.

He also couldn’t see me scanning his lower back, the firm roundness of his incredible ass, and his messily half-tucked shirt and half an inch of his branded underwear.

For a week, I trailed him quietly, avoiding any further talk of dating and sex. Not only was it irrelevant, but it was coming dangerously close to making me blush and explode right before his eyes. The mounting desire was like a guilty pleasure, a sweet sin I could pick up and toy with until it came close to destroying me, then put it away for later. I kept indulging in it.

When he changed in front of me, I looked.

When he lifted weights on a flat bench, his shorts hardly concealing the size of his bulge, I glanced.

When he swirled on ice and pulled off an incredible bait and switch, my heart shimmered. And when he slammed someone into the boards, my throat felt as though fear would strangle me to death.

And when he wasn’t around, I closed my eyes, and I imagined.

The flashes of what could never be would fill my mind, so vivid before my eyes that it felt like I could live my entire life with nothing more than my imagination. I could feel the touch of his skin on mine when I wanted to. I could feel the warmth of his lips under my belly button when I wished. I could even feel his fingers wrap around my cock, squeeze it hard, while he whispered dirty things into my ears.

Going down the road of fantasizing about Patrick was like wiggling in quicksand. It was only pulling me deeper. At some point, there would be no escape.

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