Tom Gets Sporty Novels & Stories

With a final tap, a soft hum whispered through the room—the sound of bulletproof panels sliding into place behind the bookshelves, barely seen but very much present. “Ah, the sweet serenade of carbon fiber composites,” Tom thought wryly, “Music to my ears and a real party pooper for stupid bullets.” He glanced around, noting the position of each henchman with the same ease as if he were mentally bookmarking their profiles on MafiaMatch.com. “Swipe left, swipe right—nope, not a single dateable quality unless you’re into guys who communicate in grunts.” “Are we done with this circus, Tomas?” Grossman interrupted him, trying to reclaim the stage as his voice cut through the tension.

Tommy laughed also. Tommy was 15. He was a star quarterback junior at his school. If you let the girls at his school tell it, he was hot and dreamy and he had dated more girls than I can remember. He didn't have white-ish blonde hair like mom and I. His hair was dirty blonde and he had hazel brown eyes. He was one of those little brothers that secretly love and care for you but will never admit it to your face. "Baby, how was your first week in college?" Mom asked gleefully.

Tom announced proudly, flexing his tiny arms before bolting toward his friends. The sheer force of his presence made me pause. For such a small boy, his energy felt sharp and commanding, almost Alpha-like. I couldn’t help but wonder which pack he came from. I wanted to ask Jeremy about him, but with how fragile things were between us, I doubted I’d find the courage.

He closed his eyes. CHAPTER FOUR Obsession Tom sped off to school the next morning after waving a hearty goodbye to his parents, and of course, they waved back almost giddily. It is a known fact that although Tom is not a sadist, you won't be wrong if you classify him as one. His parents were overjoyed seeing him in such a happy mood, it is rare to see so much mirth coming from him. However, one thing that they don't know is that Tom is a chameleon. Tom can switch moods as if it's chewing gum, he can make the atmosphere bubble while dying inside, he's just a flip.

She ran her eyes from the top of Tom's curly hair down his long, lean body to the tips of his scuffed, black shoes. Was her brother really so attractive? Hailey tried to look beyond her past experience and see Tommy, her brother, as Tom, the stranger sitting next to her. Sure, Tommy was a dork with few friends and fewer social skills. But Tom was tall and - she could see it in a way - handsome. He had deep green eyes and the beginnings of a beard on a wide, square jaw. Tommy was a klutz, but Tom's body seemed lean and almost toned. When had he had time to do that? Or was this just the natural transition of teenager-to-adult kicking in, burning away the baby fat?

She reached up and tousled her hair, then looked back at Tom. "Fine. Tom, I think you look pretty good with your shirt off. I think it's douchey to take your shirt off and be flexing in the mirrors at the University gym, but you've worked hard on your abs and they're... hot," she maintained eye contact with Tom, who was sneering his approval, and then looked at Sarah. "Better?" "Wait, you mean these abs?" Tom asked, lifting his shirt and showing them off. He had a four-pack, which was better than you and Matt, and he rolled his stomach a little.

As I sat down, Tom came running into my garden, somewhat out of breath, "Sorry... I'm late... I woke up late..." Dan rolled his eyes at the sight of Tom running all the way here and being breathless from it, "Take your seat before you pass out." Tom barely managed to walk over to his seat before he dropped himself down onto it breathing heavily to try and catch his breath. Once he calmed down and started breathing normally again, I started the conversation, "Tom, I heard Mommy mention you nearly took on your full form during your lesson yesterday?" "Yeah! I managed to grow my tail this time!"

“Yeah, it can be overwhelming at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. And you don't look out of shape either. Maybe a little exercise would help you gain more muscles, if you really care about having them.” Just then, Tom walked in. He was surprised to find Damon talking to the stranger. He particularly didn't take to Tudd. “I don't like him,” he had complained to Damon. “He is too full of himself; he wouldn't even say a word to you until you do. He must really think we've got no value left in our tank.” “Hey, Tom,” Tudd said, as soon as he saw Tom walk in. “Damon, I need to talk to you,” Tom just said, ignoring Tudd, who had reached out his hand for a handshake.

Still trying to sink into the cement like he was embarrassed. “Um . . . the field was small to be fair,” Tom said bashfully. Mr. Talbot laughed. “I assure you the field is regulation. We do play on it during real games. Mr. Steele, it would really help out our team if you let Tom try out when he becomes a freshman next year.”

"What about Tom, besides running he must keep a strict diet right ? Do some other training ?" Her face cracks into a grin. "Well he does some yoga once in a while to keep limber, elseway only if he needs to bulk up for a role ... and diet ?! Hmm, is there a pudding diet ? He pretty much eats everything he wants to and quite a lot of it". "I officially hate him right now". I grumble. Damn it's so unfair, but it doesn't surprise me. Tom has been dealt every hand perfectly in the poker game of life.