Page 22 of Playing for the Dark
1. Glass House (feat. Naomi Wild) - mgk, Naomi Wild
Chapter 16
Nash
Nash
Penthouse apartment #3
Zamir
How the fuck did we not know we lived in the same building ON THE SAME FUCKING FLOOR?! *mind-blowing emoji
We figured this out yesterday when we were done fighting like children, and he caught up to me as I was walking out of the practicefacility.
Nash
I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, but I really am too exhausted to be fighting with you today. Get your ass a blunt or something. You need to chill the fuck out.
Thank fuck the league is starting to chill with testing for weed. We get piss tested once before camp, and that’s it. It helps a lot of the guys with the constant pain we’re all in from playing for years on end.
Zamir
I’m walking over now *eye roll emoji*
I open the door, and my breath hitches; he’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a cropped Marilyn Manson shirt. I’ve seen this asshole naked in the locker rooms, but this is what stirs my cock?Let’s be honest; he stirs my cock no matter what.
I’m not going to make it. Fuck, he’s going to see me ogling him. “Ignore what it looks like in here; I haven’t had time to decorate yet.” I usher Zamir into my practically empty apartment. I moved in here days after my junior year of college ended so I could settle in before training camp. It still didn’t give me a ton of time, and honestly, I have no clue what I want to do with the place.
“I have a guy that did mine if you want his number.”
“Guy?” I didn’t even know there were guy interior designers.
“Check the sexism at the door, big guy. Men can be interior designers, too.” He huffs out a laugh. “You can come to look at my place once we’re done and see how good he is for yourself.”
“I wa—I wasn’t saying guys couldn’t be designers. It just shocked me you had a male designer is all.” I give him a timid smile and turn toward my kitchen, which is off to the right of the door. I’m trying to put as much space between us as I can. This place is sickly open, which doesn’t help my lingering eyes; I can’t help it when it comes to him. The pull I have towards him scares the fuck out of me.
I used to think it was just an obsession I had from always looking up to him since we went to the same college, but I’m starting to think it’s a lot more than that. The coaches at Palm never shut the fuck up about him and the championship team that he played with his junior year. It got old really fast, but I have always admired how he was so open with his sexuality.
I could’ve gone to any team in the league, but of course, I landed myself on the team with Zamir Prifti. Now, getting to be around him through camp and the last couple of practices, I get to really study him and how he carries himself. He keeps to himself for the most part, but with us having to work hand in hand, it lets me get a peek inside that wild mind of his. It’s like heknows exactly how to get under my skin, saying god knows what in his native language. I lunged at him and got a front row seat to some kind of wickedness that took over his whole body yesterday at practice. He had me pinned down faster than I could even blink, and I’m not a damsel in distress myself. My father made sure of that with all kinds of self-defense training, but Zamir was on a different level. It makes me wonder how his home life was. What has to happen to someone for them to be able or have to react like that?
Opening the fridge up, I holler over my shoulder, “You want a beer? I have some bourbon too.”
“I’ll take some bourbon. I’m surprised your young ass even drinks that shit yet.” I won’t tell him my dad used to make me sit with him in the living room and sip it when I was barely sixteen. I can hear my dad saying it now, “Drink it. It’ll put some hair on your chest.”But yeah, I can hang with the best of them now
“I acquired my taste at a young age, you could say.” I pour him a glass. Hopefully, he takes it neat.
Handing over his glass, trying to break the silence, I say, “You ready to watch some film, bestie?”
He’s giving me a questioning look, but not one that scares me, and asks, “Why have you been acting the way you have towards me? You are so happy around everyone else, but with me, you act like you can’t stand to be within ten feet of me.” I can hear the hurt in his voice, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Not thateveryone is super close to him, but he’s at least civil with everyone, except me, and I brought that on myself.
I don’t know if I should be completely honest with him. I really haven’t even admitted any of this to myself yet, and with him being in my face daily, happily walking around, content with himself and his sexuality, it made me resent him even more. But if anyone can guide me through what I’ve been feeling lately, I think it would be him. “You make me feel things I was raised to think I would be banished to the depths of hell for.” I wring my hands together in front of me. “I think I’m attracted to men.” I blurt it out like my ass is on fire, and he’s just smiling at me. I wanted to add, “or maybe it’s just you,” but I’ll keep it in for now.
1 “I knew it!” That’s not what I was expecting, but okay? “But why has that made you act the way you have with me?” He looks genuinely confused.
“I’m jealous of you,” I say, barely above a whisper.
His eyebrows knit together. “Why would you be jealous of me, Nash? You’re young, drafted number one, getting pussy thrown at you, I’m sure.”
