“I sure as hell wouldn’t have asked,” Damon says, and when I glance at him, he adds, “I’d go batshit crazy if Avery had been with another dude and detailed her weekend for me.”
I push the bar up with a grunt, trying to dispel the image of Tatum with Ethan from my mind by gritting out two more reps.
“Do you guys actually talk about that stuff?” Chris asks, a furrow in his brow as if it just occurred to him.
I feign ignorance because I don’t want to think about it. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sex stuff.”
“Hell no.” I sit up, wiping the sweat off my brow before chucking it at him. “Besides, I’m the only one who would have anything to say.”
“You sure about that?” Jace asks.
No.But I shoot him a glare, unable to even consider the possibility.
“Well, even if they’re not intimate now,” he continues, “she’s moving schools for him. Seems like they’re serious. So, unless,she’s made some sort of vow to save herself, it’s probably only a matter of time—”
“Just drop it,” I snap, not wanting to think about what he’s saying because I know he’s right, and it’s exactly what I was afraid of when Ethan got her wasted Friday night.
“Didanythingpromising come out of your time spent acting like a girl on Sunday?” Chris asks, changing course.
I press my lips into a tight line as I recall our spa day. I’m still unsure what to make of it, but I don’t know if her feeling my boner and freaking out qualifies as promising. Either way, I’m not sure I want to tell the guys.
“Can we just shut up and lift?” I snap, averting my gaze.
“Something happened, didn’t it?” Chris asks, and I can all but feel his eyes on me.
“No.” I stand, turning to the rack of free weights.
“You’re getting all squinty-eyed.” Chris points.
“What? No, I’m not.” I glance over at him, trying to keep my eyes wide open to prove a point.
Jace crosses his arms over his chest as he tips his chin in my direction. “You’re still doing it.”
“Looks like you have to take a shit,” Damon chimes in.
“I don’t look like I have to—You know what? I don’t even care,” I say, heading for my water bottle resting on the bench, mostly so they can no longer see whatever the hell my face is doing, seeing as how I have no control over it.
“West, doesn’t Brandon look like he’s staring into the sun?” Chris asks.
West peers over at me, and the more they look at me, the more I feel my expression shriveling like a prune. “He does look a little . . . cross-eyed, maybe?”
“Eat shit. All of you,” I snap before I take a pull from my water bottle.
“Ugh. I hope that’s not the face you make when you’re avoiding telling Tatum how you feel.” Chris grimaces. “If so, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
“There’s nowe,” I say, screwing the lid back on my bottle.
“We told you all that primping girlfriend shit would backfire.” Chris shakes his head, and I hit my limit.
“It didn’t backfire!” I slam my water bottle down, the metallic clang echoing off the walls with enough force to make everyone jump. “She felt my fucking dick, okay?”
Damons chokes. “Um, what?”
“I thought about what you guys said”?I wave between Jace and Chris, pissed off with their meddling?“and I knew you were right. So, I washed all that shit off my face and gave her a massage.”
“What kind of massage?” Chris asks, his eyes bright.
