“Ugh. Not helping,” I groan.
“Sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sorry.
“And then what happened?” Charlotte rests her chin on her fist, hanging onto my every word.
I shrug, mortified at the rest of the story. “I snapped out of it and remembered I have a boyfriend who loves me, and he’s someone I’m close to loving and want to be with, and I was so ashamed and embarrassed at my reaction, I barricaded myself in Brandon’s bathroom until he knocked on the door and apologized.”
“Wow.” Liz blinks, staring at me when she asks, “And you’re sure there’s not something there?”
I shake my head, unwilling to go there. “He shrugged it off, saying it was just biology and being a man.”
Liz groans. “All men are the same, I swear.”
Charlotte, Avery, and Brynn all share a knowing look.
“And you’re positive there are no feelings there?” Avery asks. “Not even on your end?”
I think about the crush I had on Brandon in high school. It was pure torture.
“No.” I shake my head. Unreciprocated feelings are the worst, and I don’t ever want to go back to that place. “Brandon’s never thought of me that way,” I say, ignoring the way my chest pinches with the words, “and I have Ethan now. We’re happy.”
I nod to myself, strengthening my resolve even as a quiet unease curls low in my stomach. Because if Ethan’s my priority, where does that leave Brandon?
And why does it feel like my heart’s still tangled up somewhere between Ethan’s arms and Brandon’s hands?
Chapter 14
BRANDON
Monday morning comes faster than I’d like with travel to our away game taking up the entire weekend. The iron plates clank together as I add another twenty-five to each side of the bar, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet gym at six-thirty a.m. Morning workouts are my religion—the only place other than the field where everything makes sense. And right now, I need some sense in my life.
“Yo, Mask Boy! You need a spotter?” Chris calls out from the bench next to mine, his grin wide enough to swallow a basketball.
“I’m good,” I grumble, sliding under the bar. The guys have been giving me shit all week for the face mask thing with Tate.
“You sure?” Jace chimes in, abandoning his triceps pull downs to smirk at me like an asshole. “Wouldn’t want youpopping a blood vessel in that pretty face of yours. Gotta keep that skin glowing for your girl.”
Damon squints as he peers at me from beneath the pull-up bar. “Your skindoeshave an extra glow to it this week. Normally, I would think it’s because you got laid, but the scowl you’re sporting tells me otherwise.”
“Fucking hilarious, all of you.” I flip them the bird before I tighten my grip on the barbell.
“What am I missing?” West asks, and hallelujah, there’s at least one person who doesn’t know my business.
Chris slings a towel around his neck as he saunters past with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, not much. Jace and I just dropped by to check on Pretty Boy here and caught him with some girly fruit mask all over his face because he was having a ‘spa day’”—he makes quotes with his hands—“with Tate.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Like you wouldn’t do the same for Charlotte.”
Jace guffaws. “Worse. I’m pretty sure I saw him leaving his room the other day and going to the bathroom in her underwear.”
“Hey, I look good in pink, okay?” Chris says, completely serious. “And they were silk. Silk is fucking soft. Don’t knock it ’til you try it, gentlemen.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass on that,” I mutter before I grit my teeth and do another rep.
“Did she say anything about how her weekend with Ethan went?” West asks as he plops down on the bench beside mine with a pair of fifty-pound dumbbells.
I glance over at him, then focus back on the bar. “She came to my place wanting to spend time with me, and you think I wasted it talking about her fucking boyfriend?” I ask, feeling my frustration mount as I push the barbell off my chest with a hiss.
Jace shrugs. “You were so worried about her Friday night, it would make sense if you asked.”
