Rules Of The Game: Book 1

40; Unrealistic Dreams

𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢
Miles POV

The next morning starts eerily similar to the one we had yesterday, only with more clothing and less intercourse.

It's good that neither of us is in the mood to drop our pants down. Parker kept mentioning how sore he was yesterday, and it's been so long since I've seen some real action that I'm physically feeling the same way.

Shifting onto my back, I grunt when my lower oblique muscles blaze on fire. Christ. I haven't felt like this since my very first time.

To make matters worse, the sun seeps through the blinds at just the right angle, making me squeeze my eyes shut against the bright glare. I can only handle the pain for a second before rolling on my side again, huffing in annoyance.

Parker shifts next to me and snorts, quietly remarking, "There's a reason why I give you the right side of the bed."

"Wow." I laugh tiredly and crack my eyes open, taking in his sleep-creased face and tousled hair. He's lying on his side facing me, watching me like a father might watch his newborn child. "I'm really feeling the love this morning."

He cheeses, the corners of his eyes crinkling. We're so close that I can't help leaning forward and kissing the crinkle, which makes him smile harder. "I'm glad to hear that because you better get used to it. Now that football is over, I expect you on that side of the bed more often."

I roll away to cast a pointed backward glance at the window. "Could we at least trade spots now and then? Don't get me wrong, I'm an environmentalist and shit, but that sun is doing me dirty."

He raises an eyebrow. "I thought you loved me?"

"You little bitch." I laugh again and prop myself on an elbow, leaning down to kiss him while my other hand slides up his shirt. His skin is warm under my palm.

Parker grins, way too pleased with himself, as he kisses me back. We take a moment to share a few more slow, passionate kisses before I collapse down, resting my head back on the pillow. There's no griping as he snuggles up closer, his right leg sliding between my legs.

"How do you feel about being done with football?" I ask quietly and search the depth of his green eyes.

Genuinely, I'm curious. I scratched him down as the type to care about the sport so much that he would cry, or at least shed a tear, after the final game. Especially since his entire life revolves around it. On the contrary, he almost seemed giddy when we left last night.

Parker sighs and shuts his eyes for a moment. "I don't know. Guilty and happy at the same time."

"Guilty?" I echo and rest a hand on his arm, sliding my fingers up and down over his skin.

The sheets crinkle as he shifts. "Miles, I've been counting the days until our last game. Like, literally counting them. I spent each practice wishing I would spend more time with you."

My throat closes up as Parker admits this. I try and play the feeling off by clearing my throat. This moment is about him, not me.

"I'm proud of you for pushing through, though. We both know that you mean a lot to the team, and not just because of your talent. You're a natural leader, Park, whether you're aware of it or not."