Page 78 of Matched By My Rival
He laughed, looking relieved. “I hate to say it, but I’m pretty sure you’re right.”
“You’ll only beat me if you start hitting the gym more often, pretty boy,” I added with a wink.
He gave me a mock glare. “It’s not over yet.”
“Then bring it.”
* * *
SIMON
We played Frisbee for the next hour with the guys, and it was an exercise in self-flagellation. Not only because Parker whipped my ass, always a step ahead as we raced after the Frisbee, but because we were so close—running side by side, brushing against one another, pushing and shoving playfully.
I didn’t tackle him again, as promised, but we still touched one another. And each time we did, the urge to grab him and kiss him senseless grew inside of me.
Some of the other guys joined in the game once I’d toned down my competitive streak. Hinkel tried to keep up with us. My ego stung that Parker beat me so easily, but at least I was still outplaying the younger wide receiver.
By the time we called it quits, I was panting and sweating—and horny as fuck.
“I win,” Parker said. “Time to pay up.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. I gotta collect before you can dodge me.”
“We’re going for pizza. Wanna come?” Cruz asked.
Parker shook his head. “Nah. I’ve been eating junk all weekend. Think I’ll skip this one.”
“Cool. See you guys later.” He socked Simon in the arm. “Good to see ya, Prentiss. You gave Reed a good run for his money.”
I rolled my eyes, muttering, “Not good enough.”
It bugged me that I’d let myself lose my edge. I’d been wallowing in self-pity for too long. Maybe I couldn’t play football with the team, but I could still compete in club sports. Keep active and in shape. I loved the thrum of adrenaline in my veins and the rush of endorphins as I competed.
Playing today—even though it wasn’t a real sport—reminded me of that. It was time to stop grieving and time to start filling the void in my life. That’s what myAfter Sportsproject was all about, after all. Finding fulfillment beyond a single sport. I’d thought that meant defining yourself as something other than an athlete. But maybe I’d been thinking about it all wrong. There were a lot of ways to be an athlete. Maybe it was just the definition that needed some work.
I filed that away for more thought as Parker nudged me. “Let’s go. I’ve got alotof furniture to move.”
I snorted, heading toward the sidewalk with him after waving off the guys. “You really think that’s fooling them?”
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Furniture.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You actually want to rearrange your room, not—”
Parker jerked me into a narrow path running between the science and engineering buildings. Crowding me up against the brick exterior, he kissed me hard.
“No, I don’t give a fuck about my room,” he said, breathing hard, eyes locked on mine. “But their hetero minds will never suspect anything.”
“No?”
“No.” He kissed me again, slipping his hands under my shirt. “It’s completely safe.”
Parker was fooling himself. It was risky as hell. But I wanted him too much to protest. The guys we’d played with were going out for dinner. If we hurried, I could be gone by the time they returned.
