Page 25 of Play With Me
It’s not working.
“You skipping class?” Paulie asks me as I linger in the kitchen, trying to decide what to do with myself.
“Shit. No. Am I late?”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “I mean, I think so. You have your international marketing class right now, right?”
“Shit,” I murmur, stuffing my phone in my pocket and moving to my room to grab my bag. “Iamlate. See you when I get back?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs and then waves as I dart out the door. I make it to class ten minutes late, but luckily, this professor is cool and doesn’t call me out on it. I sneak in the back and sit down quietly, pulling my laptop out and listening to the lecture. I make notes when needed, but mostly just take it in. This is interesting stuff. I wouldn’t mind going into international marketing long-term. The idea of adapting different marketing strategies to different cultures is fascinating. Not that I’ve ever left the United States because I can’t really afford it, but fuck, I want to.
The professor shifts gears slightly, pausing his lecture and announcing that he has a guest speaker who was able to attend today. The chief marketing officer for Cavanaugh Freight, Samuel Manning.
I sit a little straighter in my chair. This guy must work at Colton’s stepdad’s company, or Colton’s company. I have no ideathe role he plays in all of this. I just know the whole family is rich.
I watch as the well-dressed man, who only looks to be in his mid-forties, moves to the podium and adjusts the microphone that is snapped onto his collar. Then he begins to speak, and it’s enthralling, I’ll give him that. He has a commanding presence. I hope to be like that one day. I just have no idea where I’ll be in twenty years.
Some would look at me and think that I want to play sports for the rest of my life, but I have no desire to play rugby professionally. I might join an intramural team for fun after I graduate, but what I really want to do is have enough money to buy a house and maybe start a family.
And travel.
I want to fucking travel.
We just couldn’t afford to do things like that growing up. Things I’m sure Colton has done plenty of.
My mind wanders to him, the way he kissed me the other night, the pictures he has of me on his phone. My face heats, and my heart rate picks up.
Shit. He’s not going to show those to anyone, right? He said he wouldn’t. And if he did, it would implicate him as well.
Not that I think there’s anything wrong with being gay, or bi, or whatever else people are. I just don’t know who I am yet. And I don’t want people to know before I know myself.
The only thing I do know is that I like kissing him. And letting him touch my dick.
The slideshow behind Samuel shuts off, and he offers to answer any questions people may have. I want to linger behind, but I’m overheating. I need to step outside where it’s cool, where I can breathe.
I shove my laptop into my bag and jog outside, leaning up against the wall and gulping down some air. As I stand there,fanning my face, a few people come up to me, chattering about classes and practice. They don’t seem to notice the stress I’m currently under. However, talking with them brings me back to reality, and my anxious hot flash ends.
That is until I’m left to watch Samuel Manning make his way out of the lecture hall, pulling out his phone and texting quickly. His eyes dart around, and I push away from the wall I was lounging against to watch him more closely.
What’s he doing? Who is he messaging?
Suddenly, Colton appears around the corner and grins, walking up to Samuel and hugging him. The embrace goes on for a little too long, which gives me pause, and when they pull apart, Samuel pats Colton on the cheek. Fondly. A little too fondly.
If you ask me.
Not that anyone is asking.
No one gives a shit about my opinion on this.
I watch as they lean in together to talk, and it looks a little too intimate.
I should not be feeling this ugly jealousy rising up inside of me. Colton told me he’s not gay, that he’s never been with another man. But the way Samuel is looking at him affectionately makes me wonder.
It makes me glower.
Piercing eyes meet mine over Samuel’s shoulder, and his lips twitch.
He’s caught me staring. He knows the look on my face is bitter and envious.
