Page 32 of Play With Me
“Yeah.”
“And if that doesn’t work, we can get drunk.”
I huff a laugh and kick my legs up on the rickety coffee table, pulling out another piece of pizza and stuffing half into my mouth.
“Right, Coach would love that.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, my friend.”
“Not that desperate. I’m fine.”
But I’m mostly desperate, and I’m having a hard time concentrating. Paulie kills me in the game with ease, and I’m left sulking on the couch even worse than when we started.
“Yeah, seems the gaming didn’t help,” Paulie says, and I sigh, staring at the TV.
“Nah, it was nice. Just got obliterated is all. Obliterated in real life. Obliterated in the game.”
Paulie rubs his stomach and tosses his controller aside. “Drunk it is.”
Just as he stands up, a knock on the door resounds through the small living room, and my eyes flit to it.
Who the hell is here so late?
Paulie moves to answer it, and I sit up a little, my feet hitting the floor and a hand running through my hair.
“Hey, is Myles home?” a familiar voice says. My heart thumps awkwardly, and I shift in my seat.
Shit, that’s Colton. At my apartment.
Paulie turns his head over his shoulder and arches an eyebrow at me. I go absolutely molten.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I call out a bit too excitedly.
I clear my throat and push myself up as Colton steps inside. His eyes swivel around the apartment, taking in the space. I know what he sees. The raggedy sofa, the linoleum counters. Everything about this place is old, but it’s what Paulie and I could afford on our scholarships, and we aren’t ones to complain. We’ll take what we can get.
“What’s up?” I ask, and Colton’s eyes slam into mine. I watch as his pupils dilate, his tongue peeking out and wetting his lips.
“Can I talk to you?”
I fold my arms across my chest and then nod back to my bedroom. I don’t want to talk to him, but I also really do.
I can admit that.
I’m a man about most things.
“All riiiight,” Paulie drawls and then huffs a laugh. “I’ll be in my bedroom with my noise-canceling headphones on. Won’t hear a thing.”
“Fuck off,” I murmur as I turn and walk down the hall to my room. The floor has a few items of clothing strewn about, but I didn’t know he was headed over, or I’d have picked up.
Not that I care about making impressions. Good or bad.
“In here,” I say, and close the door behind him.
Colton makes his way around the perimeter, his eyes taking in every object that lines my shelves, his fingers trailing after them. I’m sure I’ll be missing something when he leaves.
“Nice place.”
“It’s not nice,” I grumble. “What do you want?”
