Page 92 of Playing His Game

“But you have babies.”

“And you are one of them. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“But… you have to go home to your wife and kids. You always want to go home to them!” Jorts’sfavorite thingwas to go home to his wife and kids.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone and you won’t let me call your boyfriend, so…”

Boyfriend? That didn’t sound right. “Boyfriend?”

“Mo? The guy you’re nuts about?”

“Oh, Mo.” Mo was nice. Adam liked Mo; he was pretty. Wait… why were they talking about him? “You can’t call Mo!”

“Yes, so you have said, several times. What I don’t understand is why I’m not allowed to call him. Guy has been blowing up your phone.”

Adam closed his eyes—his head hurt too much to look and listen at the same time—and tried to stay focused. “Phone is blown up?”

“Jesus. Mo, your boyfriend, keeps texting and calling you. Obviously, he saw the game. He wants to know you’re okay.”

That didn’t make any sense. Why would Mo care if he was okay? Other than for PR.

“I’m pretty sure your boyfriend cares about you beyond good PR,” Jorts said dryly. “Now unbuckle. We’re home.”

Jorts got Adam into the house and deposited him on the sectional couch. Adam loved this thing. It was huge and cozy, and he’d spent more than one night stretched out on it.

It was also good for fucking. Mo had ridden him once, right here, pressed him into the seat and fucked himself on Adam’s cock until Adam’s eyes crossed. He missed Mo.

“If you miss him so much, why won’t youlet him come over?” Jorts demanded.

Adam blinked at Jorts’s swimmy face. “He doesn’t want me.”

That threw him. “What?”

“He never wanted me.”

“What are you talking about? The two of you are, like, embarrassingly into each other.”

Unable to bear the sight of Jorts’s confused face—or maybe it was just the sight of anything—Adam put a hand over his wet eyes. “I think I might love him.”

“Okay… and Mo?”

“Never even wanted to date me. I was the better of two bad lots.”

“What does that even mean?”

Mortifyingly, the story came tumbling out of him. He wasn’t sure how coherent he was and he pretended he couldn’t feel tears on palm, clinging to his eyelashes, as he told Jorts about the mess he’d gotten into.

“It wasn’t supposed to be real. But then it was, and now he wants to break up.”

“Oh, kid. Only you.”

Only you… could be that stupid? Only you could be so naive? Could cause me so much trouble?

“Time for you to get some sleep.” There were blankets, one for each of them, as they stretched out on the couch, Jorts’s head at Adam’s feet. “See you in an hour.”

Adam groaned, already dreading being woken up to check that his head hadn’t scrambled itself worse, but he couldn’t resist the pull of darkness and drifted off.

For the second time in his life, Mo wished he ate breakfast.