Page 91 of Right Up His Alley

Despite being busy at the tattoo shop, Ezra took today off to help at the alley and ensure everything with the USBC runs smoothly. He’s still the owner of Spare Time, so his signature needs to be on all the contracts and paperwork, but I know he’s extremely happy to see how well the alley is doing on my watch. Not to mention how I’m doing with taking a back seat in the competition.

And there he is.

My man.

I see him, right outside Lane 10, talking to a group of suits. Most likely all from the USBC. With his back turned toward me, he must sense I’m looking for him. He turns, and our eyes find one another.

He winks and blows a kiss in my direction. We don’t have to hide anything anymore, now that I’m no longer competing in this year’s championship. So, I respond with a wink, followed by a soft smile, knowing those cute, puckered lips are going to be wrapped around my dick tonight after this tournament is all said and done.

Whoa now, True. You’re in public. Don’t get too excited. My eyes drop to my khakis, attempting to shake away any intrusive images. We don’t need any unwanted visitors.

How far we’ve come since the beginning of summer blows my mind. We’re doing what we both want to do individually, but yet we somehow are doing it all together. He’s exactly what I’ve wanted in a partner.

My dad still doesn’t really get it, though. The few conversations we’ve had over the past two months usually end the same way, with long silences, clipped words, and his obvious struggle to accept I’m done with professional bowling for the time being.

A familiar, disappointed cough behind me pulls me out of my thoughts.

Speak of the devil.

I turn and see my father standing just behind the last row of bleachers, arms crossed as he watches the crowded tournament. He looks out of place, like he doesn’t believe he belongs here today. Not even as a fan.

With a sigh, I walk over to him.

He sees me and tries to smile, but his jaw is set too tight, making it look forced. He calls out, “It’s quite the turnout, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” I nod, stepping into the spot beside him. As much as I tell myself I’m nothing like him, I still find myself crossing my arms anyway. I breathe in. “But I know you wish I was out there.”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, True. You taking a break from competing throws me for a loop.” His eyes still won’t meet mine.

“Knowing full well I wasn’t bowling today, why’d you come? To rub salt in the wound?” He still won’t look at me, so I square my shoulders. “Well, I’ve got news for you. I have no wounds here. I finally figured out⁠—”

“What you love,” he finishes for me. “I know, I know.”

His eyes meet mine then. And they aren’t what I’m used to. Still disappointed, but not hard. They’re softer. Almost uncertain. Maybe even—I dare to think—apologetic.

“Yes. I’m doing what I love. I’ve found a home here.”

At first, he doesn't respond. His silence assures me he still doesn’t know how to yet.

And I’m okay with that.

Then, he speaks up. “Bowling league teams and summer camps are no joke. Your mother told me your summer programs start at eight-thirty and run until five, and you’ve got evening lessons too? Then a late-night adult league starting in the fall? How are you going to make time to get back on the lane?”

I knew it wouldn’t be long before his silence turned into an attempt to get me back to competing.

“I might not, Dad. And I’m content with that right now. I’m going to be busy.” I let out a deep breath.

Dad and I are still standing there when a voice cuts in, along with a hand tapping my shoulder. “Mr. Thorne? Hey—sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting?”

I shift my body slightly. A woman is beside me, smiling like she’s been waiting for the right moment to grab my attention.

“You’re fine. Can I help you find something?”

“No, no. You’ve done enough, actually. I’m not sure if you remember my son, Gavin?”

“Yes! Of course I do. I’m so glad you guys could make it out today. Albuquerque is quite a distance away.”

“It is, but the drive was worth it. Thank goodness my husband stayed home with the baby. I’m glad I get to experience some alone time with Gavin. We really appreciate you getting us the tickets for today. Gavin’s been waiting for the tournament all week.” She points over my shoulder. “Lane 13.”