The Player Novels & Stories

Drake was reading to a silent audience of gawkers as he'd done last week. "'I wasn't kidding when I said I was a fortune-teller,' he said, smiling. 'Do you want to see into your future?' June smiled and nodded, happy to go along with his game. This had to be some sort of move to get her into bed—some playful way to initiate sex," Drake read.

the man in gray jacket triumphantly said as he slowly waked towrds her. Eleonna stepped backwards to keep a distance away from him. This made player 2 laugh in amusement. "Is this what that bastard put a bet for? A fragile looking chick?" Eleonna was insulted by his words. "Don't come near me." "Oh don't worry, darling. It won't be long until I end your burdens." 🔫 "Player 13 is cornered by player 2! Let's see what this player got! Is she really worth the $100,000?"

I said She just looked at me like she was deep in thought. "I promise Camela that won't ever happen again. Before you, I was a Player. I will admit that, but now all I want is you. I know this sounds like some fantasy-type shit, but it is true," I said and placed my hand on hers again. "You wouldn't feel that if it wasn't," I said Just then, there was a knock on my door. My sister walked in without waiting for me to answer.

I guess I wasn’t as boring as I had labeled myself. "So, what plush bear do you want?" he asked again. "Panda. I love pandas," I said cutely. He chuckled before inserting a few coins into the coin slot, then he grabbed the joystick and moved the claw arm toward the panda bear. "You're going to bear with me. I'm kinda bad at this," he said and began picking up the panda bear with the claw arm. Just when he was about to grab it, it fell back into the claw machine. "Fuck!" he said, and I laughed.

Something to clear my head. Somehow, that walk led me here. And somehow, my eyes found him. Alistair Morano, number 7, black jersey clinging to his frame, hair slicked back with sweat. He looked like sin dipped in sunlight, sharp jaw set in frustration as he screams something I couldn't even hear through the loud boos to his teammates. I watch as a guy from the Veritas team strikes the ball toward Aurum goalpost, the ball slipping past the keeper and into the net.

"Well, thank you." I chirped as I sat down. He turned to Jeremy. "How's hockey going?" He sounded a lot stricter, and his sudden tone made me swallow hard. Going pretty good, Dad, as always," Jeremy replied with indifference as two ladies dressed in uniform began to serve the dishes. "I heard there's a new player in the team, he won the last game for the team?" Mr. DeLuca continued, and I swallowed even harder. "Yes... There's a new member in the team, he's pretty good," Jeremy replied with the same expression, and I could feel the hall heat up.

The caption was “No touchdowns hit this hard.” He had even fallen ill after it. Mainly because he wouldn’t take the aphrodisiac, wouldn’t take the narcotics. He kept asking me to let him go for the day, but the jocks had practice to attend, and I didn’t want to have to get a new set or wait for their training schedule to end. The video was mainly close-ups of sections and body parts. The players in different positions with all the raw, direct sounds of grunting and moaning, and panting.

One that no one else would notice. My heart does a flip. "And now," the announcer says, "the moment you've all been waiting for. The Best Player of the Season award." The crowd cheers. I stop breathing. "The nominees were outstanding this year. Truly outstanding. But one player stood above the rest. A player who led his team to victory after victory. A player with heart, with skill, with determination." Say his name. Say his name. Say his name. "The winner is... Damon Silverton!"

Damien’s voice cut off abruptly. I turned around slowly. Damien stood in the doorway, his hockey gear bag slung over one shoulder, his jaw tight as his gaze shifted from his father to me. The shock in his dark eyes lasted for only a fraction of a second before hardening into pure, unadulterated fury. Damien dropped his athletic bag to the floor with a heavy thud. He marched into the room, closing the distance between us until he was towering over me, invading my personal space.