Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“Hey, Bones…Bruce…” This conversation seemed serious enough to use his real name, though he’d told me he hated it.
When I heard him snoring, I breathed out.
Well, damn.
2
BONES
The following morning, I woke up wearing the same sweats I’d had on yesterday. I’d passed out, clearly, after a tough week of practices, followed by all the beer and shots I’d consumed, which hadn’t helped. Nothing new there.
“Why are you avoiding me?” I asked Emil. He was moving around the room, tidying up his bed and desk, and refusing to look at me. At least it seemed that way.
“I’m not.”
“Did I say something inappropriate last night?” I remembered lifting him in the air and swinging him around after my epic Ping-Pong win, but he hadn’t seemed too upset about that at the time, only annoyed. “If so, I’m—”
“No, nothing inappropriate.” He turned his head away and muttered, “For a change.”
“I heard that.” Ugh, moving my head made it feel thick and heavy. I needed to sober up before the team meeting and practice today. “So then…what?”
He sat on his mattress and finally met my gaze. “You told me about your brother.”
“My—What?” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “I did?”
Fucking hell, why would I do that?
“Yeah…and I’m sorry.”
I lobbed a pillow at him. “Don’t start being nice to me just because I had a sappy moment.”
Emil tossed it back. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I breathed out. “Good.”
Emil smirked. “You also told me I was warm before you gagged me with your big, smelly armpit.”
Now that was more like it.
But damn, I hoped he didn’t see my inebriated actions as anything more. I wouldn’t want him avoiding me for real. That would get uncomfortable.
What had I been thinking? He knew I was straight. No way could he tell I’d been feeling differently about him since move-in day. As soon as I saw him lugging a box into the dorm, my stomach felt all strange and fluttery. I would’ve ignored it if it had only been one time. But it kept happening during practice when I’d spot him across the field, and the butterflies really got going when I made him laugh or smile.
Maybe I was just happy to see my friend again?
“Hey, you don’t always smell so great,” I countered.
Emil cocked an eyebrow. “No way. I smell awesome. My hygiene is amazing, and I take good care of my skin. You could use some pointers.”
I thought of all the bottles he had lined up on the bathroom counter, from cleanser to moisturizer. “Whatever, I’m not doing all that shit.”
“Suit yourself.” He reached for the change of clothes he’d set on his desk chair. “When you get old and wrinkly, you’ll think back to this conversation.”
“Sure, okay,” I mumbled, then turned over to get more shut-eye while he showered.
Emil shook me awake before he headed out, for which I was grateful. “Wouldn’t want Coach to get on your case.”
“Thanks.” I rolled out of bed to change into shorts and a tee. No use taking a shower before a sweaty practice, but I made sure to use plenty of toothpaste and deodorant to appear fresh so the guys wouldn’t razz me about getting hammered last night.
It was Friday, the last practice before the semester officially began, and I, for one, couldn’t wait for some free time over the weekend.
After a team meeting where we studied video for our upcoming game, we suited up in our helmets and shoulder pads and set up behind the line of scrimmage. I could hear the band practicing at the other end of the field, and after quickly identifying Emil with his brown hair, wispy frame, and muscled legs from years in dance, I was able to avoid looking in that direction again.
Linebackers were responsible for disrupting run plays and short passes from the opposing team, but during practice, I was up against our own offense, and it was my job to point out our weaknesses. When Henners tried to throw a screen pass to Flash, I was able to break through the line to get to our quarterback for what would be a definite sack in a real game, so I was feeling pretty good about myself.
After practice, we showered and changed, and then the coaching staff took us out to a local Mexican place for an early dinner. I was stuffed by the time we got back to campus. Some of the guys asked Coach to let us hang out in the clubhouse for a few hours—normally, it was reserved for game nights. There was also a huge party being thrown the following night at one of the frat houses, so it would be a busy weekend.
Once the coach left the clubhouse, I had one of the beers being passed around because hair of the dog and all that, but my mind kept drifting to Emil, wondering what he was up to. He tended to hang out with other dance students, especially Lark, Justin, and Leah, so maybe I’d have the room to myself tonight. Not that I necessarily wanted it to be empty. I enjoyed his company, and he was respectful when I needed quiet.