Rules of Play (The Script Club 2)

So here’s the thing…I knew this asshole pretty well. He was goading me, hoping to ignite some kind of internal rage, so I’d defend my friends and give him the ammo to call me what he thought was the worst insult he could possibly level at anyone.

Faggot.

“No, but I wish I’d thought of that,” I singsonged with a laugh. “Listen, I rescind my two-week offer. I’m leaving now.”

“You owe me—”

“Nothing,” I hissed. “I owe you nothing. But I owe myself a shot…and I’m fucking taking it.”

Hank’s vitriol rang through the garage. I tuned him out as I collected some personal items from my locker, pausing to give a few high fives to a few coworkers. Including Timmy.

“Good luck, Aiden,” he said warmly. “If you need anything, call me. Anytime.”

I pulled him into a hug and thanked him before heading to my truck. And freedom.

Next on my list…find my favorite vampire.

The next day, I drove to George’s house and waited on his front porch, holding a bouquet and a book. The roses might have been cliché and perhaps a decade too late, but I figured he’d understand the gesture. The book, on the other hand, was a gamble.

I tucked it under my arm, straightened my collar, and rang the bell.

“Oh, my! Who are you looking for? And please tell me it’s me.” Asher grinned.

I smiled. “Is George home?”

“Yes, he just arrived. Come in.”

“Actually, I’ll wait here. If that’s okay.”

Asher peered at me over the rim of his round glasses and nodded. “Of course.”

He mentioned something about a drafty old house before closing the door.

Which was roughly when my heart went into overdrive. This was it. This was everything. This was me at the highest height on a roller coaster, sweating through my nicest oxford shirt in anticipation. I had a speech. I knew what to say. I just hoped my voice worked.

I whirled around when the door opened again.

George stood in the doorway, dressed like me, in a blue button-down shirt and pressed khakis. His end-of-day mussed hair gave him a slightly disheveled look. But I was pretty damn sure I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in my life.

“Aiden.”

I shoved the huge bouquet in his arms. “Hi. Um…these are for you.”

“Thank you.” He glanced at the flowers. “They’re pretty, but—”

“Wait. I have something to say.”

“Okay.”

I reclaimed the bouquet and set it on the porch ledge, then thrust the wrapped book into his hands.

“Um…this is for you too. Open it.”

He unwrapped the book, letting the shiny paper fall to his feet. He inspected the plain black leather cover, turned the first page over, and read the title aloud.

“The New and Improved Playbook.” He licked his lips. “What is this?”

“It’s our new rule book.”

He bit his bottom lip as he fanned through the pages. “It’s blank.”

“Yeah, that’s the genius part. We write it together…start over with a clean page and fresh start and make our own rules. Maybe we don’t call them rules, though. Maybe we call this a relationship…a real one. The kind where everyone knows about us.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed nervously and nodded. “See, I’m crazy about you, G. My heart skips a beat when you walk into a room and the sound of your voice gives me butterflies. It’s always been that way. I just couldn’t see. And maybe I wasn’t brave enough. Or maybe I didn’t think I was someone you’d want. But I…I have to tell you…”

George set the book next to the flowers and stepped closer. “Tell me what?”

I reached for his wrist and flattened my rough hand against his smooth one.

“I love you.”

He opened his mouth and closed it. “I…”

I set my finger over his lips and continued. “I’ve loved you for so long, baby. I would do…anything and everything to make you happy. To make sure you know how fucking special you are. I want to be in your orbit. I want to be the guy you call when you’re happy or sad or just need to talk. I want to make you laugh, take you to ballgames, and hold your hair back when you’re sick. I just…I just want you.”

George launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around my neck fiercely. “I love you. So much.”

I closed my eyes and swayed, burying my face in his hair and breathing him in.

And all I could think was, Thank you, universe. Thank you for giving me this chance. You will not regret this.

After a minute or so, I kissed him. His eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, and finally, his lips. I fused my mouth to his and poured everything I had into the connection. When we broke for air, I brushed his hair from his eyes, then rested my hands on his hips.

“Just so we’re clear…this is not a friend ‘I love you.’ This is the real thing.”