Play The Part (Player Next Door Book 3)

02 | Body Chiselled

You can tell by the title that a certain someone is making an appearance in this chapter ;) 

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02: Body Chiselled

Austin and the beach is like ice coffee on a warm summer's day.

Me and the beach is like a wailing seal stuck in a donut-shaped pool float searching for its colony.

Naturally, I had to get out. I'm lucky to survive being in nature for so long without an incident. It's been twenty minutes.

A record.

I slinked off into the distance and far from the treacherous ocean. The sun would start setting soon. I left Austin and Cearra on the blanket by the beach and all I could think was-

-how I really hope they give me back the blanket later because that's my only one and it has penguins on it.

My car took a few tries before the engine got going. Winter was not kind to this sweet machine, but I hope it finds joy in spring.

Speaking of joy, I felt it bubble up in my coffee-less heart at the thought of where I was driving to next.

Driving to see him.

**

4.00pm Fancy Park

We had been to this park together once on a date. I remember the food trucks that were parked near the grass and how many blankets there were for picnics.

We agreed to meet here today.

He sent me the location and, realistically, there was 0.0% chance I was going to find it without getting lost at least 97 times.

It's a good opportunity to explore. Like a safari. There was a fountain with kids playing, bees buzzing and open grass for more games and picnics.

And finally, I saw it. The open tennis court –

No, I'm just kidding. I can only handle one sport at a time. Next to the tennis court was an open-air rubber basketball court.

Bingo.

Now I'm pretty sure Luke has never played here before. It looks like a recreational basketball court for fancy people. But this was where he was today.

I took a seat on one of the empty benches for spectators, looking out at him on the open court.

There he was, shirtless with his boxers peeking out of chinos.

And a playful smirk on his lips.

Luke Dawson. My boyfriend.

Luke was barefoot with a basketball in his left hand, casually dribbling with ease. His sculpted torso on full display.  As he extended his arm out, the movement caused a ripple across his muscles, up his biceps and down to his abs. Body chiselled as if he'd been crafted out of marble.

Sometimes, I still think he is.

He was speaking over to a guy crouched down with a camera. I didn't catch the guy's response and got distracted by the lighting and camera equipment surrounding him.

That's when Luke's mom stepped onto the court, dressed up herself. She was wearing a wrap dress and nude heels, her hair blown out with a flick at the end.

"Luke! Wear this shirt instead," she told him, holding a white button-down shirt in her manicured hands.

He threw the basketball and watched it swoosh through the hoops, before turning back to his impatient mom. After making her wait, he took the shirt she was dangling in front of him..