Page 10 of Playing It Forward

“Come on, Nolan,” Tanner whines. “We already followed your schedule and worked out.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You can’t go visit your friend now anyway.”

He glares. “What friend?”

I snort. As if I don’t know he’s been chasing after the cute bartender at the Bootlegger bar. The whole town knows. Tanner does love to entertain his fans.

Brock shoulders him as he passes. “Are you afraid of getting your ass kicked?”

Tanner rushes after him. “You can’t kick my ass, Mr. Grumpy.”

I grunt. All I want to do is throw the ball around a bit. I rub my shoulder. It’s stiff and sore. I need to throw some passes to warm it up a bit.

And maybe playing around on the beach is a great excuse to find Terri. My cock immediately twitches. It wants another chance to bury itself in Terri’s heat.

But she ran faster than Gage sprinting for the end zone after we finished our tryst in the closet. And every time I’ve seen her since, she’s ignored me. One time she ducked behind the reception desk and didn’t emerge for fifteen minutes. I timed her.

“Let’s go,” Corbin says. “I don’t have all day.”

“You don’t? What are you doing? Did you get kicked out of another apartment?”

“I didn’t get kicked out of any apartment.”

“Oh, sorry. Your landlady didn’t kick you out. She merely said you’re an oversized gorilla who should be kept in a zoo for observation. She didn’t actually kick you out.”

Corbin is quiet and reserved. I’m curious to know why his landlady called him a gorilla. But he’s not telling.

We reach the beach. I stand ankle-deep in the sand and rotate my shoulder before firing a pass toward Tanner.

“That all you got?” he shouts after catching it one-handed. He’s such a show-off.

I ignore the jab and launch another spiral. My shoulder protests immediately – I feel a sharp ache beneath the joint – but I roll it once and keep throwing.

Gage cuts across the sand. “Stop flirting with Tanner and throw to someone attractive.”

Brock snorts. “That eliminates everyone here.”

Corbin catches the next pass against his chest and tosses the ball back. “You’re throwing high.”

“Sand,” I claim.

I rub my shoulder before aiming the ball Brock’s way. But he’s not paying attention, and the ball lands at his feet. Gage snatches the ball and darts off with it. Tanner chases him. They’re evenly matched. Tanner’s a tad faster, but Gage had a head start.

“Touchdown!” Gage yells when he crosses some arbitrary line in the sand.

Tanner scowls. “We’re not keeping score.”

“Because you can’t keep up.”

Tanner’s eyes narrow. “You can’t keep up to me.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Stop bickering and throw me the ball!” I yell.

They ignore me as they often do.

“First one to run to the lifeguard chair and back is the winner,” Tanner says before sprinting away.