Page 9 of Overtime Goal
He hit me with questions about temporal paradoxes, tachyons, and wormholes. My answers were mostly nonsense, and he made a big show of judging each one. After I told him all I knew about the grandfather paradox, he gave such a dramatic eye roll it probably counted as a neck stretch.
I sighed. “Why are you asking if you already know this stuff?”
“I don’t know it.” He nudged my knee with his foot. “But I can smell bullshit from a mile away.”
“Fuck off.”
“Eat shit.” He grinned and turned back to the screen.
Reading continued to be a lost cause. I spent more time pretending to be annoyed by the interruptions than looking at the pages, especially since Riley kept glancing my way. At one point, I threw a little pillow at him; he caught it and tossed it back. I’d been half-listening to the movie for a while, and by the time the chrononaut took his fifth pointless jump, I gave up and set the e-reader aside.
“All right.” I scooted over beside Riles to steal some cheese puffs. “Explain why this guy keeps bouncing around through time, wrecking everything he touches. And don’t skip the dumb details.”
A grin spread across Riley’s face. “It’s the butterfly effect. Ever heard of it?”
“Yes, but how does it fit in here?”
He explained enough to bring me up to speed, and we watched it together. Gradually, he got more comfortable as he shed his hoodie, kicked off his shoes, and pulled the throw from the back of the sectional to wrap around himself.
“Why don’t you make yourself at home?” I asked.
“Thought I already had.” His expression was a mix of mischief and happiness.
I shook my head, making sure he saw it, but I was so content I wanted to purr. Except for Riles, most of my visitors were teammates stopping by. We had fun, but that’s all it was. Riley was different because he made everything feel better.
Halfway through the movie, he shifted until he was sprawling sideways on the sectional. When his feet landed on my legs, right in front of my crotch, I froze. He glanced over and gasped when he saw how close his ankles were to my dick.
He yanked his feet back. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to do that. I was just stretching out.”
“No problem.” I reached for his legs and settled his feet on my thighs. “I can handle your weird feet.”
He scoffed. “What the hell? My feet are elegant. Many women have said so.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. These were women who were chasing you, not the other way around.”
“Just for that, I’m taking my feet back.”
He tried to pull them away, but I grabbed his ankles. “Don’t even think about it. You stole the blanket, and your feet are warm. I need all the help I can get.”
Things were quiet for about a second before he started chuckling. It was soft at first, then grew into a full-blown laugh.
“What?” I asked.
“You need all the help you can get, huh? Don’t you have an app to find guys for that?”
My cheeks were suddenly very hot. “Fuck off. You know that’s not what I meant. Is your mind always in the gutter?”
He snorted. “Thought that was already well established. And I’m not the one with pictures of naked men in my bathroom.”
“Those are art prints. The pictures were taken by some of the best photographers in the world.”
“So you say.”
I backhanded his foot. “The closest you come to art prints is pulling up Pornhub on your phone.”
“You watch Pornhub too.” He gave me the side-eye. “Last time I used your laptop, you hadn’t even closed the tab.”
“Bullshit.” He was probably right, not that I’d admit it.
