The Endgame (Atlanta Lightning #1) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Atlanta Lightning Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
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“Jesus H. Christ. Why do you look like you’re about to hurl? You finally get some pussy, and this is what it does to you?” Darren nudged me again, and I breathed.

He was talking about Melinda in Denver. “I thought— Never mind. It doesn’t matter what I thought.”

“What? You got a secret chick I don’t know about?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re way too interested in my sex life.”

“Because you’re my friend and I want you to be happy. Sometimes…sometimes you don’t seem happy.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I got up and went to my locker so my back was to him. “I’m fine, man. Sex just isn’t as important to me as it is to you. That’s all. I’d rather focus on my game.”

“Like you did at practice today?”

“Fuck you,” I snapped.

“Whatever. Just shut up and shower so you can go get some food with me.”

I grabbed my stuff and walked away. Things were already getting more difficult with Weston in my life, and we hadn’t even done anything yet.

I wouldn’t go back on our agreement, though, and if I were honest with myself, I’d admit I wouldn’t stop talking to him either, not unless I had to. I wanted it too much, wanted him too much.

Fucking sexy, cocky bastard. He was ruining my life, and I liked it.

I took a quick shower and got dressed. Darren was sitting in the locker room, waiting for me, busily tapping away on his phone.

“I swear, you’re worse than a teenager with that thing.”

In a high-pitched voice, he mocked, “I swear, you’re worse than a teenager with that thing.”

“Point proven.”

We headed out and decided to go back to my place and call for delivery.

Darren met me there, and we ordered teriyaki chicken, rice, and veggies. We played some Madden and talked shit, and like always, I kicked his motherfucking ass.

“You bastard!” Darren griped just as the app alerted me the cameras had picked up someone pulling into my driveway.

“I think you meant to say badass.”

He gave me the finger.

“King of football?”

“Hell no,” he countered, and we both laughed. “The next game is mine, motherfucker.”

“You wish.”

I opened the gate, grabbed the food, and the delivery guy freaked out a little when he realized whose house he was at. Darren and I both signed a napkin for him, and then he was on his way.

We went to the kitchen and started piling food onto plates. Darren carried his back to the living room while I grabbed some water from the fridge. I got the bottles out and closed the door as my phone buzzed in the pocket of my track pants.

I tugged it out to see a text.

Stalker: Hey, Bashful. You miss me?

Me: Who is this? I think you might have the wrong number.

Stalker: Oh, wow. When did you get a sense of humor? I guess I’m rubbing off on you.

Me: Fucker.

Stalker: I’m not rubbing off on you now, but I will be soon. Jesus, I can’t wait to see my load painting your skin.

Heat ran through me, lighting fireworks of pleasure in my veins.

“Why are you blushing while staring at your phone like a damn fool?”

I fumbled my cell at Darren’s voice coming from the entrance to the kitchen. Unfortunately, I couldn’t catch it, and it fell to the floor. “Fuck.” I picked it up. “See what you made me do? And I wasn’t smiling and blushing.” I slipped my phone into my pocket.

Darren crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I didn’t say smiling.”

Goddamned son of a bitch. “It was just something funny a buddy said.” I grabbed my plate.

“Which buddy?”

“You don’t know him.” Should I have said it was a woman? Made up a name? Said it was my brother? But if I really looked the way Darren said I did, the last thing I wanted was for him to think I’d been talking to my brother.

“You’re being sketchy.”

I headed into the living room with Darren on my heels. “You’re being a stalker.” Oh no. I didn’t like that. Weston was my stalker, which might mean I was a little crazy because I liked it.

We plopped down on the couch, and I silently cursed myself for replying to Weston while Darren was there.

“Are you in love?” he teased. “Don’t tell me you fell for the first person you’ve fucked in a while.”

“What?” I whipped my head toward him. “That wasn’t Melinda. It wasn’t like that with her. I don’t even know her.”

“Then who was it?”

My stomach tumbled over and over, my appetite disappearing. “Why are you so nosy? I said it wasn’t like that, so it wasn’t. Shit, man. Lay off.” I rubbed a hand over my face.

“I was just joking. Sorry. I’ll let it go.”

Guilt tightened an angry fist around my heart. Darren was just curious. I needed to work harder to keep my interest in West hidden. In fact, I should tell him I changed my mind, but I couldn’t. He was right. I deserved this, even if it was only one night.



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