Following the Rules (The Script Club 1)

“You must do a lot of cardio. You look like you could run for hours,” the conditioning coach’s assistant commented, peering over his clipboard at me as I stepped away from the treadmill. “That’s a good thing. You check all the boxes.”

“Thanks.”

I wiped sweat from my brow and grunted, listening with half an ear as he rambled on about the importance of staying in shape. I wandered toward the wall of team photos; they were mostly action shots. A quarterback leaning into his throw, a ball spinning at an impressive arc or hanging midair above a receiver’s outstretched arms. Beauty in motion.

Not so long ago, the photos would have made me itch with yearning to be on that field. I wasn’t as eager today. Something had shifted, and I didn’t know what it was. I still loved the game. I always would. But I was beginning to wonder if I had a place here anymore.

Not just physically, either. Contrary to what anyone believed about me, I didn’t check all the boxes. I wasn’t the same person I was a year ago. And I wasn’t so sure I wanted to pretend to be the old me anymore.

Later that night, I called Topher from my hotel room. Texting was our usual mode of communication, but I needed to hear his voice. I propped two pillows against the headboard of the king-size bed and wielded the remote at the TV with one hand, smiling when he answered his cell with a breathless, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Are you naked?”

Topher’s laughter rang through the telephone line, warming me from the inside out. “I think not.”

“Oh, darn. So, what are you doing?”

“Well, I was reading an update on the Mars rover. So fascinating.”

“I bet.”

“And we had an early roommate dinner. Tommy burned the baked potatoes. They exploded in the oven and he was rather traumatized, so I helped him clean up and—how did it go today?” he asked in a rush.

“Fine. I’ll tell you about it when I get home. I’m having a late dinner and debating room service and TV choices at the moment. Should I order a steak and watch football or chicken parmesan…and watch football?”

Topher laughed. “How about pasta and the National Geographic Channel?”

“While I eat? I’m not sure I can handle that,” I joked.

“Sure, you could,” he replied affectionately. “I saw an interesting one about lions and wildebeests and…”

I muted the college game on the flat-screen so I could hear him clearly, smiling at his animated tone as he enthusiastically recounted the animal kingdom’s version of a true crime story while I plucked at the hotel duvet, wishing he was here.

Or I was there.

Damn, I wanted to go home.

7

Topher

Fog clung to the ribbon of Pacific Coast Highway at the turn-off for Simon’s house like a spiderweb, shrouding the hillside facing the ocean too. It was beautiful in an ethereal, mystical way. I loved the oceanside in overcast weather when the beaches were deserted and the breeze was sharp with salt air. It was a nice change from the endless sea of red taillights on the freeway.

A UPS truck idled at the curb, so I pulled into the driveway and hurried to the gate. Simon buzzed me in a moment later, granting me entry to his contemporary-style courtyard. A cherry-red bench sat near a small modern fountain on one side of the succulent-lined pathway while rose bushes lined the opposite end. It would be pretty here in springtime when the flowers bloomed, I mused as the front door opened and a naked man pulled me across the threshold.

Simon crushed me to his chest and fused his mouth over mine in a demanding kiss that left me light-headed when he finally released me.

“G’morning,” Simon hummed, unbuttoning my gingham oxford shirt. “Fuck, I missed you. It’s been too long.”

“Three days,” I said in between kisses.

“Too many days. Too many hours. Too many minutes.” He licked a path from my chin to my ear, nipping my earlobe as he undid my belt and rubbed his palm along my half-hard cock. “Mmm, you missed me too, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes.” I ran my hands over his pecs and his toned inked abs. Geez, he was godlike beautiful.

“Take your shorts off. I want to feel you.”

I did better than that. I sank to my knees on the hardwood floor and swallowed his length in one fell swoop. Simon grunted an obscenity somewhere above me. I couldn’t hear over the whoosh of static in my ears as my heart raced to keep up with the sudden activity after a long, boring drive. I was more than up for it, though. I licked him like a popsicle, pausing to suck his balls before devouring him greedily.

When he grabbed a handful of my hair and rocked his hips, fucking my mouth with tenuous control, I pushed away and glanced up at him.