Quinn chuckles and gives Alis an affectionate squeeze of his shoulder. “We’ll be in the stands.” Then, to me, he says, “We’re going to head up to the meat market for some steak and chicken after this. Your dad is going to grill out. We’d love to have you over for dinner.”
“Yeah, sure,” I grunt out, avoiding Dad’s relieved smile.
As soon as they walk off, I take a moment to stare at Alis. His white-blond hair is messy and sticking up on one side. He keeps his hair longer than me, and it’s sometimes shaggy looking, hanging into his eyes and over his ears. The jersey is tight on his lean runner’s body and shows off his lightly muscled arms. When he stretches his arms above his head, and I catch a peek of his dark underarm hair that’s the same color as his eyebrows and roots, my mind wanders to where else his hair is dark.
“You can’t suck me off here in front of our dads,” he says, his deep brown eyes filled with mirth. “There’s always later…”
I smirk as my gaze roams down to the front of his shorts, a semi-erection evident beneath the black material. “You’re not going to get inside my head and mindfuck me before the meet.” I lick my lips, enjoying his sharp breath in response. “Though I must say, I wouldn’t mind having you on your knees right about now.”
He grumbles, bending over to touch his toes. We both know it’s an effort to hide how his dick perks up for me.
“Come on, Wonderland, you’re supposed to put up better walls than that.” I move to where I can see his ass while I stretch. When I was with Naomi, I always liked her ass. Seeing Alis’s, tight and muscular as the shorts strain over it, I realize I’m most definitely an ass man no matter the sex. A fine ass is a fine ass.
“Are you seriously checking me out in front of everyone?” Alis asks in an exasperated tone over his shoulder.
“Like you don’t know that ass is hot.”
“Whatever.”
“Did all those guys who fucked you appreciate it?”
“Go away.”
“Did they worship it?”
“Fuck off, Voss.”
“Did you let them bite it? I’d pay good money to be able to bite it and leave a bruise that’d have you remembering me every time you sat down.”
“You’re a dick of massive proportions.”
I laugh and shrug. “Most of that sentence is correct in the sense my dick is huge, but you already knew that.”
“Unbelievable.” He sighs and shoots me a penetrative glare. “What are we doing?”
“Warming up.”
“No, us.”
“There is no us.”
He snorts out a laugh of disbelief. “Okay.”
“Aww,” I tease. “You want to be my boyfriend, bro?”
His middle finger flies up, and then he storms off toward Coach Davies. I strut after him, pleased at riling him up. After Coach hypes us up and the meet starts, I lose myself to the sport, eager to see my teammates do well. Our football team was always exceptional, with a lot of the players moving on to play for the University of Florida. They swap out their black and red for blue and orange, but still a gator through and through. I’m just surprised to see the track team is also good.
A dude named Mikal, a six-foot-five black guy on our team, annihilates on the high jump. I’m so fascinated by his form and skill, I nearly miss being called out for my race. We line up, our school’s 100-meter dash runners alternating with our opponent. I’m in the second lane, and Alis is in the fourth. Everything around me turns into a blur as we ready ourselves for the whistle, hunched down and poised to spring forward. I’m hyper-focused, intent on only one thing.
Winning.
The whistle blows, and I launch into a sprint, pushing myself harder than ever. The pounding of spikes on pavement is all that can be heard behind me. When a flash of blond meets my peripheral, I dig deep and fly forward with a surge of determination. I cross the finish line and come to a stop not far away. The announcer calls out the winner.
“Senior Canyon Voss, for the Blood Gators in first for the 100-meter dash with an astonishing ten point nine seconds. In second place is senior Alister Sommers, also for the Blood Gators, with an impressive ten point eleven seconds.”
Coach is congratulating us as I try to catch my breath. My hamstrings and calves are on fire, but my heart is pumping like it’ll never tire. I double over, resting my palms on my knees as my gaze searches for Alis.
Is he pissed?
When my eyes meet his dark brown ones, pride shines in them, not anger. His smile is wide. He seems proud of me, which makes my heart twist painfully in my chest.