Page 2 of Worthy

“All right! Let’s get back at it!” Coach bellows, pulling all of us back into the game. I growl and grit my teeth, metaphorically beating my hands against my skull.

By the time practice is over, I’m dripping with sweat, panting, and fortunately, no longer hard. I glance up on instinct, finding the bleachers empty, Abel nowhere to be seen. My eyes narrow as I scour the gym, my teammates filing out through the double doors in my peripheral, sneakers squeaking.

With a huff of irritation, I suck in a breath, relishing in the ache in my lungs, when I finally spot him. He’s leaning against the side rails on the far side of the extended bleachers. His bag is slung over his shoulder, hood halfway on his head, giving me a peek at his overgrown white hair.

He’s probably twenty feet away now. Still far but closer than before. My eyes track over the vast array of metal in his ears. I mean, seriously, how many fucking ear piercings does one dude need? And that’s not even mentioning the large, stretched holes in his lobes, filled with some big, emerald-green stone or something.

“Why’s he just staring at you?” Gabriel asks from behind me. I startle, shoulders tensing, toes digging into my shoes.

Because I’m pretty sure the freak can read minds like some supernatural entity.

“Fuck, he pisses me off,” I say more for myself before answering Gabe. “Because he’s fucking weird,” I grumble pathetically, gaze still heavy on Abel. Weird doesn’t even come close to describing him.

He’s everything I hate to want—and he fucking knows it.

His eyes haven’t shifted my way one time.

“Yeah. Looks real weird, too. And the shit I heard he’s willing to do for a few bucks? Fuckin’ nasty. And those fucking shoes,” Corbin snarks as an afterthought. I look down at Abel’s pink shoes.

Those pink sneakers have flashed through my mind so many times, I can’t even keep track anymore.

Not that I was.

My jaw tightens as I glance over my shoulder, finding my closest friends around me when everyone else has left. Thomas and Grady hang back a bit, still bouncing a ball between them.

“How much longer are you stuck with him? It’s gotta be strange, living with him, with the things he does…” Grady trails off, shooting a three-pointer. It bounces off the rim, making all of us chuckle while he glares at the hoop like it personally offended him.

I roll my eyes at his blatant inquiry. Like I’d ever fucking tell them a thing about Abel—but only because it simply doesn’t matter what he does at home. Which is absolutely nothing because whenever we’re under the same roof, it’s like no one but me exists to him, and helivesfor pushing my every button.

I’m at my breaking point.

“Couple more months. February, I think,” I say absentmindedly. It’s all I’ve thought about. Exactly how much longer I’m forced to look at his face, feel himeverywhere.Like a disease corroding me into nothing.

Thomas pipes up, “So, this is why you’ve been so off your game. You’ve gotta deal with him at home? Is he a nuisance or something?” I almost laugh out loud. I wish it were as simple as him being a ‘nuisance.’

But no. I just saw something I shouldn’t have. Something I hate myself for admitting I liked.And not at all because he makes my fucking dick hard every time I look at him.

“Don’t worry, Peris. Once he’s out of your house, he’ll just be another lost cause sucking dick for rent money!” Corbin yells obnoxiously loud, interrupting Thomas. The sound of his taunt bounces off the vast brick walls of the gym. I whirl around, pinning him with a glare, veins surging with overheated blood.

“Thefuck—”

The sound of shoes squeaking across the glossy hardwood floor has my neck snapping back, words dying on my lips as Abel makes his way toward us, his pointy jaw set wide, beady eyes narrowed, the silver of his irises appearing darker.

He looks pissed—and seeing that emotion on him when all I’ve ever seen is smug confidence…fuck.

My eyes rake over him. How assured he portrays himself for being so small, walking right up to the five of us like he doesn’t give a fuck. Abel’s gaze roves over us, his expression passive and indifferent. He skips right over me in his pursual. My hands fist at my sides.

“Well…” he drawls, eyes pinned on Corbin with intent, “whatever your name is, I’ll be sure to give you a discount when you can no longer resist the temptation and make your way down my alley.” He blows Corbin a kiss as his eyes slide to mine, gleaming.

I feel it in my fucking balls. In a heavy, deep throb.That little fucking runt.

His eyes pinch slightly at the corners, big fucking lips twisting to the side before it all falls away. Then, he just walks right past, head held high, bag slung over one shoulder, shoes squeaking loudly like he’s twisting them against the floor on purpose, so I’ll succumb to the urge to walk right up to him and snatch him up by the hair at his nape. Growl in his ear, telling him to shut the fuck up.

His lithe form disappears through the double doors at the other end of the gymnasium, and my gears shift back to what’s right in front of me.

“Daaaamn,” Gabe drawls, whooping. “Little dude’s got a fuckin’ mouth on him.” He sounds amused, impressed even.

I’m fuckingnot.I’m not. The way his lips pursed, eyes drilling into me with obvious intent. Always such a fucking tease.

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