Page 68 of Matched By My Rival
He rolled his eyes away, laughing a little sheepishly. “Now? Well, now I’m just another fan, I guess.”
I reached for his face, turning it toward me and kissing his lips. “I’m a fan too. Of you.”
He smiled wistfully. “Too bad we couldn’t have been friends on the field, huh?”
“Oh, we could have. You were a competitive asshole, though.”
He laughed. “I was.”
“What will you do now?”
He shrugged. “Move on. Make a life in sports administration. Not so different from what might have happened anyway, right? Just with fewer contacts after all the fences I burned.”
“Maybe some of those fences can be rebuilt?”
“Maybe.” He’d sounded noncommittal, and we’d changed the subject. But not before he’d said, “Be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Parker. You deserve it. You deserve all the success I know will come your way. Keep playing for as long as you can, and don’t throw it all away like I did.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I didn’t want all the things he’d treasured. I didn’t deserve football, because I didn’t love it. Not like he had.
But maybe I’d found something else to love. Something else that pulled at my passion.
Simon stirred, starting to wake, as I continued kissing down his body. When he pulled me into his arms and ordered me to sleep, I didn’t object, even though I was already overheated. I let him squeeze me close and drifted back to sleep.
I didn’t know what I’d do about football, or my future, or all the disappointment I’d bring down on the people who loved me if I gave it up. But I knew one thing: I wanted more nights with Simon Prentiss.
19
PARKER
Istill ached, the echo of Simon’s cock inside me, as I showered and dressed Monday morning. I relished the feeling, the reminder that the previous weekend had been real. It felt a little like a fairy tale—an X-rated one anyway. My prince charming was sardonic and sweet by turns, taunting me playfully before whispering gentle words in my ear, and I hadn’t been able to get enough of him.
Waking alone was bittersweet. No matter how many reminders my body gave me, the reality was not a fairy tale. There’d be no riding off into the sunset for us. I had the usual packed schedule of training and class and study hall, and Simon would have work. We had texting and pics—and I knew we could work in the odd hookup if we got creative—but it didn’t feel like enough.
I’d been spoiled, and I didn’t want to go back to getting crumbs of Simon Prentiss. I wanted more, and for the first time, I was starting to think that maybe he did too. We wouldn’t be the most conventional romance story.We were rivals for the best plays on the football field, then he punched me in the face, then we connected on an app without realizing it, andfinally,we fell in love.
Fell in love. That was a scary phrase. It was out of my comfort zone.
And if it was uncomfortable for me—someone who’d been hooking up with guys for years—how would it feel to Simon?
When I got outside, Darnell was leaning into his passenger-side back door, muttering to himself. I walked up behind him, my heart swelling at the fond memories this car elicited. Like how Simon had held my hand all the way home. The way he’d smiled at me, so easily, as if we’d never been at one another’s throats. Well, to be honest, he’d been at my throat; I’d always just wanted to lick his. But those were semantics that no longer mattered. Simon Prentiss liked me. It was still wild to think of how much things had changed in a matter of weeks.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Darnell jumped, bashing his shoulder against the frame of the car. “Ow! Damn, man. Why you gotta sneak up on me like that?”
“I wasn’t sneaking.” I glanced at the flashlight-type item in his hand. “What are you doing? What is that?”
“It’s a black light. Gotta make sure Simon didn’t spelunk in my car with his girl.”
“Spelunk? Did he go cave diving?” I snorted a laugh, even though the fact Darnell still thought Simon hooked up with a girl this weekend rubbed me the wrong way.
“You know what I mean.”
“He didn’t do that.”
Darnell turned baleful eyes on me. “And you’d know that how?”
Oh, right. I wouldn’t. “Uh, well, it’s just…Simon’s a stand-up guy. If he said he wouldn’t do it, then he wouldn’t.”
