Chapter 2

Lunch was a pile of shit.”

Silently Mason gave Parker the remainder of

his meal, stealing glances at the jock-god from the corner of his

eye.

When Parker had finished eating, belched

loudly and scratched his nuts—an action that caused Mason to

whimper—he got to his feet. “Same time tomorrow, then,” Parker said

over his shoulder before loping away.

It wasn’t until Parker had gone out of sight

before Mason felt he had been released from some kind of spell. Why

did being in Parker’s presence make him act like a blushing

tongue-tied fuck up? He was a senior just like Mason, they both

played sports. Mason shook his head, unable to come up with a

rational explanation.

* * * *

Parker kept his promise, appearing at the

maple tree next day. Mason, being prepared, had bought extra.

“Thanks, bud,” Parker said, picking up the

oversized sandwich.

Mason was captivated by how the big guy ate.

He’d never thought watching someone chewing their food could be

sexy, but the way Parker did so sure was. He felt a stiffening in

his pants, which soon became uncomfortable. Fearing he’d draw

attention to his predicament if he adjusted himself, Mason sat

quietly, an arm lying strategically across his lapWhy does

this guy have this effect on me?Mason asked himself as he

stole another quick glance at the handsome athlete.

“Thanks, man,” Parker said once he’d

finished.

“Uh,” was all Mason could think of to

say.

“You want that orange?” Parker pointed at the

piece of fruit.

“Uh, no.” Mason had bought extra fruit, but

had forgotten to get more soda. Fortunately Parker didn’t ask for

anything to drink.

“Cool.” Parker leaned close to Mason before

taking hold of the orange.

The slight pressure of bare flesh on his arm

did nothing to ease the tightness in Mason’s underwear. Swallowing

a groan of pleasure, Mason continued to stare straight ahead.

“Warm for September, isn’t it?” Mason could

have kicked himself for the banality of his statement.

Swallowing the segment of orange he’d been

sucking, Parker turned his grey eyes upon Mason, the glint of

playful mischief in them, causing Mason’s stomach to flutter.

“Pray don’t talk to me about the weather, Mr.

Worthing. Whenever people do that, I always feel quite certain they

mean something else.”

It took Mason a couple of seconds to process

what Parker had said. He stared stupidly at the gorgeous

athlete.

“It’s a line from The Importance Of Being

Earnest.” At Mason’s continuing look of incomprehension, Parker

said, “It’s a play by an English dude called Oscar Wilde. We’re

doing it in English.”

“Oh, right.” Mason was forced to do a rapid

re-evaluation of Parker. He’d labeled him a dumb jock, passing each

grade purely on his athletic ability.

“It’s a cool play. Those stuck up English

dudes always trying to put one over on each other.”

“Um, yeah, right.” Mason thought he’d been

dropped into an episode of The Twilight Zone

“Yeah, well.” Parker looked down at the

ground, Mason noticing the handsome face had become tinged with

red. “Gotta get movin’. See ya around,” Parker said, squeezing

Mason’s shoulder before standing up.

The contact, even though it was through a

layer of cotton, made Mason’s skin tingle. Waiting until Parker had

walked away, Mason reached up and ran his fingertips over the place

where Parker had touched him.

“This is too fucking weird,” Mason said out

loud.

Dusting the stray crumbs from his pants,

Mason realized Parker hadn’t said that they’d be sharing lunch the

next day. The possibility that they wouldn’t was surprisingly

unsettling.

Mason needn’t have worried, however. No

sooner had he settled himself under his tree Friday lunchtime and

opened his packet of sandwiches, when Parker showed up.

“What’s on the menu today, bud?”

Mason tilted his head upward. “Uh…” A vision

of his six feet two inch jerk-off idol looking as though he’d been

poured into his Umbro T-shirt, flexing his bulging biceps, stood

looking down at him. Mason speculated the seams of the already

tight T-shirt were in serious danger of giving up the unequal

struggle.

Mason was forced to swallow before he could

resume speaking. “I’ve, uh, just got PBJ today. They didn’t have

much at the snack bar and I kinda…”

“Cool,” Parker said, sitting down, cutting

short Mason’s ramblings.

Parker lifted the thickly cut sandwich and

began to chew.

“Are you, uh, playing tonight?” Mason asked,

stealing a quick glance at his dining companion before averting his

eyes.

“‘Course. The Falcons couldn’t win if I

weren’t there.”

Mason smiled at the jock’s cocky attitude. He

shifted, as his penis began to plump. “Yeah, but there was that

game last season against St Patrick’s when you were injured in the

first quarter, but we still managed to scrape through.”

Parker stopped chewing and stared curiously

at Mason. “I’d forgotten about that. So, ya coming to watch me?

Should be a close game, but I reckon we can beat North Side if we

stick to coach’s game plan.”

“You want me to go?” Mason couldn’t believe

what Parker had just said.