““What’s taking him so long?” I hissed. I was waiting for my usual Monday night hook-up to commence. It’d been two weeks since our behind the concession-stand quickie. For a moment, my aggravation subsided when I thought of how lately Coach T, or Mark as I should’ve thought of him, couldn’t seem to get enough of me. Monday nights were set in stone, but lately, he’d texted me to meet up at least two more times. Regardless of what I was doing, I dropped everything to meet him. Nothing filled the s...tretches of lonely days quite like those stolen hours we shared together. But when I eyed the clock again, I twitched in frustration. Usually, as soon as everyone had cleared out of the building, Coach T would flick the outside lights twice. Then I knew the coast was clear, and I could go inside. But he was thirty minutes late tonight, and I quickly texted a, “WTF is going on?” message. I wasn’t gonna wait outside all night for him. Especially after I’d turned the car off fifteen minutes ago, and I was shivering in the late January cold.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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