Making the Play Read online

  “See? Even you’re questioning the kicks.” Tyler turned away from Allan. “They need to be improved.”

  “I’m sorry, but you were fine. There was wind and you couldn’t know it would shift right when you punted the damn ball. Blake couldn’t have known that. I don’t care what he says. We turned the ball over and stopped the run game. You did your job,” Allan said. “Besides, you stepped in when Gene blew out his knee and made a forty-seven-yard field goal. That’s nuts but awesome as hell. I’m shocked the reporters didn’t swarm you.”

  “Blake hates media day.” Tyler dried himself off and tossed the second towel into the closest hamper. He pulled a pair of boxer briefs from his locker then stepped into the underwear. The black material molded to his ass and showed off some of his best features.

  “I don’t really care what Blake does or doesn’t like.” Allan licked his lips. He wanted to grab Tyler’s butt and squeeze. “I don’t subscribe to his method of encouragement. Beating a man and withholding affection in order to improve performance never works.”

  Tyler dipped his head. “Just… Thanks for stepping in, but leave me alone. Trust me, okay?”

  “No.” Allan walked away long enough to ditch the robe and dress at his own locker.

  He kept his attention on Tyler. He refused to let him escape without having a bit more discussion. He didn’t bother to snap his jeans or tuck in his shirt. He tossed his shoes onto the floor and yanked his bag from the locker. A shadow appeared beside him. When he glanced over at the reason for the shadow, Devan leaned against the next locker. He met Devan’s glare. Most of the players would’ve backed down from Devan. The guy stood over six feet and was pure muscle everywhere except between his ears.

  Devan pointed to Tyler, then to Allan and made a slashing motion across his throat. “Understood?”

  What the fuck? Allan gripped his socks and stood tall against Devan. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “That’s Blake’s boy.” Devan’s lip curled. “Got it?” He raked his fingers through his black hair, making the short strands stand on end.

  “Tyler looks like a man to me.” Allan unballed the socks. “He doesn’t have Blake’s name stamped on his backside, either. I checked.” Probably not smart to taunt Devan, but Allan didn’t give a fuck.

  “Don’t get any ideas. Blake needs him sharp.” Devan snorted. “Not fucked in the head because you think you can make him better.”

  “What are you talking about?” The last he’d heard, Blake had full-on dumped Tyler.

  “After the party, asshole. That’s when they get together,” Devan said then shouted, “Ain’t that right? You’re Blake’s bitch after the team party.”

  Tyler dipped his head and sat on the bench. His shoulders slumped. If he replied, Allan couldn’t hear him.

  Seeing Tyler so destroyed bothered Allan. “Blake insulted and dumped him. I witnessed the exchange.” Allan stared at Devan. “Or did I miss something? He’s free of Blake, so old Blake should find himself a new whipping boy.”

  “What? You’re cleaning up after Blake now? I thought you were into chicks,” Devan said. “You’re not doing the little blonde cheerleader majoring in blow jobs?”

  “What does it matter where I stick my cock or who sucks it? You’re treating one of our teammates like shit and expecting him to improve through threats and insults.” And God only knew what else. “It’s not working.”

  Devan rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.” He spat something then stomped out of the locker room.

  Allan inched backward then noticed the gunk on the floor—mushy sunflower seed hulls. Gross. He wiped his feet with a towel before he donned his socks and shoes. He needed to keep Tyler in the locker room a bit longer.

  “You’ve got a serious death wish, don’t you?” Tyler appeared by Allan’s locker. He gripped a duffle bag in both hands.

  Dressed in a pullover and jeans, he appeared awesome despite the slight purple cast to the corner of his mouth. The closer he stood, the more Allan got a whiff of Tyler’s cologne. Allan swallowed a whimper. Normally, scent wasn’t a big deal for Allan, but Tyler smelled great—like pine. He wanted to rub all over the kicker and mark himself.

  “Maybe I am cheating death.” He shrugged. He needed to change the subject but also to keep Tyler talking. “Going to the party?” Please, God, let him be going to the party. Allan wasn’t sure he could walk away from Tyler just yet.

  “I should make an appearance.” Tyler hefted his bag onto his shoulder. “Not really looking forward to it, but there’s no ‘I’ in team.”

  “You really believe that? Or are you going through with the party because you’re worried about Blake? Because he expects it? Maybe you want to?” He tried to keep the frustration from his voice but he couldn’t stand to see another person so beaten down.

  “A little bit of all of that.” Tyler nodded toward the doorway. “We need to get going. The cleaning crew will be in soon. Nice guys, but I’m ready to leave.”

  “I hear you.” He followed Tyler out to the foyer of the sports complex. Before they left the building, he touched Tyler’s forearm. “Be honest with me. Which is it really? You want to go or you’re afraid Blake will pitch a fit?”

  Tyler stopped short but didn’t meet Allan’s gaze. “I’m worried about Blake.”

  “Is your car here?” He needed a few moments without Blake around to show Tyler just how much of a distraction Blake was.

  “That’s a long story, but no. I don’t have a car here.”

  “Cool.” Well, not really. Having a car on campus came in handy when going back and forth to the athletic facility, but whatever. He’d ask about the story later. “Let’s take my car and go the long way to Lorne’s Pub.” He pushed the door open and waited for Tyler. “What?”

  “Are you serious? You and me?” Tyler gripped the strap of his bag. “For real?”

  Allan chuckled. He continued to hold the door as Tyler finally exited the building. “Am I so awful? I shaved this morning and showered after the game tonight.”

  “No.” The tips of Tyler’s ears turned red. “It’s— You’re popular.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Allan stopped on the sidewalk under the bright lights of the complex. “Popularity isn’t that big.”

  “I’m not, and me being seen with you will only make you…less cool.” Tyler backed away from Allan and sighed. “I’ll drag you down.”

  “Because Blake builds you up so much.” Although he understood where Tyler was coming from, he’d stomached enough self-pity for one night. “I don’t care what your status is.”

  “You should.” Tyler turned on his heel and faced Allan. Fire lit in his eyes. For the first time since the end of the game, Allan noticed a spark in Tyler. Tyler clenched his jaw then groaned. “You heard Blake and I heard Devan threaten you. No one steps in on Blake’s turf.”

  “Who says I’m stepping in?” He shrugged. He was toying with Tyler and not exactly being nice about it, but sometimes a little tough love was needed. He wanted to spend time with Tyler and get the guy to smile—for real.

  “No one says you’re pushing in on Blake’s territory, I guess.” Just as quickly as the fire had grown, the flames died. Tyler backed up again. “Never mind. I need to get to the party.”

  “How exactly were you planning on doing that?” Allan scrubbed his hand over his face.

  If the shitty comments from Blake and Devan were any indication of how they treated Tyler behind closed doors, then no wonder the guy was fucked in the head. They’d verbally abused Tyler and Allan could only guess if they’d done anything else nasty. He caught up to Tyler and touched his shoulder. This time, when he trailed his fingers over Tyler’s arm, sparks shot through Allan’s body. He hadn’t expected that to happen. Sparks from Tyler Leigh? Nice. He smoothed his hand over Tyler’s forearm. The sparks continued and increased in intensity.

  Tyler stopped but didn’t turn around. “Why are you doing this? I’m not anyone importan
t. I’m not going out for the draft. I’m not trying to get on television. I’m no one.”

  “You’re someone to me.” He stepped in front of Tyler. “Now, how are you planning on getting to the party? I asked before and you didn’t answer.”

  “I’ll walk. Same as I do after every game.” The corner of Tyler’s mouth twitched in a half-smile. “I have a car but Blake borrowed it and crashed it. The axle’s messed up.”

  “Are you serious?” Allan blurted. The jerk probably got off thinking on destroying Tyler’s car then refused to pay for the damages. The asshole.

  “I’m serious. Blake borrowed it at the beginning of the semester. He said the tracks on Parsons messed them up, but I’ve got the feeling he took the crossing at full blast and flew over them. That’s the only way he could’ve tore up the axle and bent the rim on the right side. Anyway, I don’t have a part-time job and, since we don’t get reimbursement or anything for playing ball, I’m stuck.”

  “Knocked the toe in or out?” He figured up the expenses to fix the car. Depending on the make and model, as well as the availability of the parts, yeah, the repairs could be costly.

  “I don’t know.” Tyler shrugged. “The wheel’s crunched in at the top and the bottom sticks out. I don’t have roadside assistance so she’s sitting in the student lot out here at the field. My friend JD works security and checks on it every night.”

  “I bet your insurance went through the roof.” Allan stuffed his free hand into his jeans pocket. “Look, my dad is a mechanic in Gaitlin. He can tow it and give you a good deal. It’d get you back on the road.”

  “Really?” Tyler met Allan’s gaze. His eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

  “Sure. We’re friends. Friends who happen to be teammates too help each other out. I’m glad to be of assistance.” He bumped shoulders with Tyler, happy to touch him again. “Come on. We’ll take my car to the party.”

  “You don’t really know me.” Tyler followed, but slowly. “We’ve been on the team together for three years and this is the first time you’ve ever talked to me.”

  “So? I’m not always the most observant when I’m off the field.” He bobbed his head. He should come clean about the other reason he’d been hesitant to talk to Tyler but didn’t. Being shy with the guys he liked was hell on the ego.

  “But? There’s got to be a few provisos with this deal.” Tyler stopped under one of the parking lot lights. “What is it?”

  Geez. Tyler would have to make the interaction hard. Did Allan expect anything less from his teammate? Not really. He understood Tyler’s hesitance. “Here’s the thing. I need some extra practice with punt returns. Since I just moved over to the special teams unit, I’d like to get up to speed. That’s where you come in. You practice your punts and I’ll practice returns.”

  Tyler stared at him. His mouth opened and closed twice but he didn’t say anything. Stunned? Speechless? Happy? Allan wasn’t sure.

  “Ride with me to Lorne’s. My car’s right over here and in the morning, we’ll call Dad. Deal?” He pressed the fob on his keys. The headlights on his coupé flashed as the doors unlocked. “Perfect for a twosome.”

  “Okay.” Tyler inched up to the car. “Just— I can’t walk in with you.”

  “Because of Blake and Devan?” The pair of asshats were starting to get on Allan’s nerves and they weren’t even within earshot.

  “Yeah.”

  “He can suck my ass.” Allan opened the car door for Tyler. “Get in. The bugs are starting to swarm under the bright lights and I don’t want to be eaten alive.”

  Tyler acquiesced and slid into the passenger seat. He held his bag in both hands and didn’t look at Allan. “It’s nice. The car. You’ve got a nice car.” He blew out a long breath. “Sorry. I’m babbling.”

  “You’re fine.” He shut the door and rounded the hood. Excitement surged through his veins. He had Tyler Leigh in his car. So the guy didn’t think he was popular. He probably didn’t think he was handsome, either. He was wrong. Popularity wasn’t that important, but damn, the man was cute. Allan collapsed onto the driver’s seat and basked in the comfort of the faux leather. Sitting down was a good thing for his aching body. He’d taken one too many hits on the last punt return and needed a break.

  “I’m indebted to you,” Tyler said. “What do you want other than help with punts? Blow jobs? My ass?” His voice cracked.

  Allan closed his car door and gripped the steering wheel. He wanted to lash out at Tyler, but having an attitude wouldn’t help the matter. Blake was the problem. Blake’s treatment of Tyler, to be more specific. The man was using Tyler and for some reason, Tyler didn’t seem to see he wasn’t worthless. Christ. He wasn’t even sure Tyler knew better.

  “Sorry,” Tyler mumbled.

  “No. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He had to be delicate. If he moved too quickly or without tact, he’d screw everything up. “Was Blake your first boyfriend?”

  “Huh?”

  “Was he your first?” Allan shifted in his seat and placed his hand on Tyler’s forearm. God, he couldn’t get enough of touching Tyler.

  “Maybe. God.” Tyler shook his head. “I need to go.” He fumbled for the door handle. “I need to get out of here.”

  “Wait.” He kept his hand on Tyler’s arm. “Just give me another minute. Please?”

  The gentle pleading seemed to work, as Tyler stopped grabbing for the handle. He sank back in his seat. Pain and sadness shone all over his face.

  Allan measured his words with care. “You’re going to ride with me and we’ll have a good time. If Blake gets pissed, he can deal with me. My invitation, my consequences.”

  “Allan.”

  “Come on. We’ll have fun and you don’t even have to blow me.” Although getting a blow job from Tyler wouldn’t have been bad. Truth be told, he wanted to keep things going between them and find out if the sparks were one-sided or not. A vision of Tyler in the nude came to mind. Warmth spread all over Allan’s body and blood rushed to his cock. He squirmed in his seat to hide his erection. Yeah, he wanted Tyler to blow him, then to return the favor—just not yet.

  He covered his crotch with his left hand and stared at Tyler. Part of him didn’t want the challenges Tyler possessed. Everyone knew Blake. According to the unspoken rules on the team, whatever Blake touched, he believed he owned. Did he own Ty? If Blake held Tyler in debt with blow jobs and sex, then he probably did. Part of Allan didn’t want to mess with Blake or try to sway Tyler, but a larger part of him did. He saw potential in Tyler and yearned to help him come into his own. He wanted to see Tyler smile and he’d be willing to bet that if he wasn’t seen as Blake’s piece of ass, his confidence would soar on and off the field.

  “Well?” Allan asked.

  Tyler hadn’t left his seat but he hadn’t said anything, either.

  Tyler held his bag tightly. “Aw, fuck it. Let’s do this.” Although the words sounded confident, Tyler didn’t.

  Allan nodded once and put the key in the ignition. “You’re right. Fuck Blake. This is our time to have fun, cruise and enjoy the win.” He turned on the lights and put the car into gear.

  As Allan drove across the lot, he rolled the windows down. The chilly air helped to temper some of his fever, but not much. He wanted to see Tyler smile and hear him laugh. He wanted to be the reason Tyler did both. Tyler was right—fuck it. For the next few hours, no one else mattered but him.

  Chapter Two

  Tyler sat beside Allan in the car and watched the world streak by. He couldn’t help but be excited. Usually, he had to walk the fifteen-minute trek to Lorne’s, but tonight he had a ride. And from Allan! Holy moly! He never would’ve thought Allan would look his way. Granted, he’d ogled the newly minted punt returner plenty of times. Who wouldn’t? The guy was a study in perfection. Like he could be a model and was a triple threat on the field. He ran fast, dodged and weaved through tackles with ease and had a sixth sense about when to make a move.

  Then the
re was his appearance. Allan reminded Tyler of a model. From his inky-black hair cropped close to his head, his chiseled chest, with just the right amount of hair to be sexy without going overboard, and his sculpted legs, he made Tyler crave him in so many ways. He’d covered his arms in tattoos, but the ink didn’t spill over to his chest or back. He worked the rugged style while staying sexy at the same time. He reminded Tyler of someone trying hard to keep restraint while still wanting to buck trends and be his own man. Was that right? He didn’t know.

  Tyler sighed. The man was hot, but for all he knew, Allan was great with the girls, too. He’d heard rumors about Allan and one of the cheerleaders, but he’d never been one to believe gossip. He stared out of the window. The hot guys were always taken and usually not gay. Allan didn’t strike him as out or even gay. Oh well. A man could drool and fantasize.

  Tyler thanked God he’d kept his bag on his lap. The sack helped to hide his burgeoning erection. All he needed was for Allan to see him with a hard-on and freak out. But the vision of Allan in the shower appeared in his brain. Damn. He could still see the tattoos and the water sluicing over Allan’s tan skin. He bit back a shiver. What would it be like to be held in those arms and to feel Allan’s hard body against his? He wanted the smooth tiles beneath his hands and chest as Allan plowed into his ass from behind. If Allan was gay, he’d no doubt be a top. Guys like Allan seemed to know what they wanted and took the reins. Tyler had never been good at going for what he wanted—not with other men.

  “What got you into football?” Allan asked. He had rolled the windows up most of the way, making the cabin of the car quiet.

  The coziness of the situation wasn’t lost on Tyler.

  “Huh?” Crap. Allan was trying to have a conversation and Tyler was too busy thinking about ways to get naked with him. “Uh, my dad.” He forced himself to focus on his answer. “He…he wanted to get the fag out of me. Yeah, before you ask, I’m gay and that was one of his favorite words to insult me. He figured if I got my ass kicked, then somehow I’d decide I wasn’t gay and I’d be fixed.”