Following the Rules by Lane Hayes

Author:Lane Hayes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lane Hayes

I daydreamed a lot over the next couple of weeks. That wasn’t like me at all. I wasn’t known for deep thoughts or my introspective prowess, but my brain seemed to be in a constant state of overload, bouncing like a renegade pinball over titillating topics ranging from dinner ideas to the sight of Topher’s finger breaching his puckered entrance or my dick in his hole.

Damn, I loved being inside him and every time I left him, I couldn’t wait to see him again…and do it again. And again. But I didn’t want to rush this. Or overthink it.

No, it was better to play it cool. And trust me, that wasn’t easy. If I had my way, we’d push the books aside and study each other exclusively. Screw calculus.

But I followed Topher’s lead. His quiet patience drew me in almost as much as his enthusiasm in bed. I found myself staring at him while he read and listening more intently when he spoke. I loved the melodic timbre of his voice, the sweet freckles on his nose, and his quick blush. His presence soothed something inside me. When I was with him, I forgot to worry about what I was missing or what I’d been waiting for.

Until my phone rang.

I turned into my driveway and pushed my garage door opener, humming to “Beast of Burden” while I waited for the modern steel door to lift. I glanced at the console when the music stopped abruptly, signaling an incoming call.

Oh. Wow.

I tapped the contact name on the screen as I pulled into my garage. “Ryan. How’s it goin’?”

“Good, man. Excellent! I was about to ask you the same thing. How’re you feeling?”

My palms instantly went clammy. I couldn’t tell if I hated that question or if I resented that my agent had the power to make me so damn nervous. The sound of his chipper voice or even the sight of his name on my screen made me feel nauseous. It used to be the opposite. Then again, he used to call more often.

Whatever. Not important. He was on the line now, and that had to mean something.

“I feel great,” I replied enthusiastically, hoping a cheery tone might telepathically influence a positive message, like, “Get this, Si. Are you sitting? You should sit ’cause Green fuckin’ Bay wants you!” Or something equally cool delivered in his over-the-top LA slickster style.

“That’s fantastic, man. Glad to hear it. How’s the surf?”

The surf?

“It’s been big lately.” Like I gave a shit. I let him babble about rip currents and the sick sets near the pier, intercepting him before he got too far into his description of his new wet suit. “That’s cool, Ryan. Hey, it’s been a few weeks. Got any news for me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, man. I wanted to call you sooner, but it’s been nonstop hectic around here. Handling in-season trades is tricky business and I—oh, hang on, Simon.”

Ryan mumbled to someone on his end while I sat in my car like an idiot waiting my turn.

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