Once Instructs ended, he informed me he was coming home with me. The fucker didn’t even ask. I won’t ever admit how grateful I am for it.
His smile falls away, and he squeezes my shoulder. “Talk to him, Easton. You might not like the answers you get, but at least you’ll have closure. You’ll know you did everything you could to fight for your friendship.”
He glances away, and his hand falls. He stares out the windshield. “I have a lot of friends. Mr. Life of the Party. The fun guy.” His throat bobs in a swallow. “You want to know what I don’t have?” He turns back to me, the house lights reflecting off his colorless eyes. “A best friend. I’m surface level, and that’s all I’m good for.
“What you and Maddox have?” He shakes his head, a sad laugh falling from him. “People talk about once-in-a-lifetime love. You know that applies to friendship too, right? Love comes in so many forms. I think it might be just as rare to find what you and Maddox have. Something is clearly going on with him. Fifteen years deserves an in-person conversation, I think. He can’t run. He can’t hide if you go in there.”
I blow out a breath and nod. He’s right. About the Maddy stuff. Not even close about the things he said about himself. I push open my door and stare hard at the black pavement, trying to build my resolve. I can do this. I get out of the car, but before I close the door, I turn back to Shane.
“You’re good for so much more than surface level, Shane. I’m really glad we’re teammates.”
He sends me a lopsided smile, but I can tell it’s forced. “Thanks, Cowboy.”
The door shutting echoes through the quiet night. Muffled conversation and laughter drifts into the street from the apartments, but it’s relatively tame since it’s a Tuesday night. I jog up the steps to the townhouse I lived in last year. Maddy and some of our teammates kept the place for senior year.
I stare at the white door, the surface glowing in the soft light of the moon.I can do this.I shake out my fists and bounce on my toes a couple of times. I’m going to stride right up to him and force him to hash this out with me. He’s going to tell me what’s going on with him. I’m not opposed to brawling with him if needed.
I crack my neck, then bang my fist against the door. A little harder than I meant to. But I need to take advantage of this adrenaline rush while I have it.
The door swings open, and Alvarez’s face materializes. “Winters?! Hey, man!”
“Where’s Barnes?”
He blinks at my rudeness but snaps out of it quickly. “In his room. How’s pro ball treating you?”
I push past him, a clipped “Good” falling from my lips. Later. Right now, I’ve got one mission. A few calls of “Winters” greet my ears, but I ignore them and thunder up the stairs. My sole focus is getting to the coward hiding out in his room. This works out perfectly. I’m locking us in there. He won’t be able to escape. He won’t be able to avoid me.
I burst through his door, and he jolts upright in bed, a “What the fuck?” flying from him as he clutches his textbook to his chest.
“Easton?” The word falls from him, high-pitched and panicked. Good.
“Fuck.You,” I roar at him. But I don’t stop there. I stomp over to his bed, grip him by the t-shirt and pull him to me. “Fuck you, Maddy!” I scream into his face.
His eyes are wide, the whites swallowing his irises. His mouth works like a demented trout. Can’t find words? What a fucking surprise.
I shove him away, and he thumps into his headboard. He shakes it off and then he’s scrambling out of his bed.
“East,” he says hoarsely. “What—Why—Uh.” He swallows. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to find out why the fuck you’ve turned into an asshole. Why the guy I’ve known for fifteen years is now a pathetic piece of shit. You don’t get to just cut off contact with me, Maddox. Not without a fucking explanation. Youoweme that. You don’t get to just end this friendship without me having a say.”
I step up to him, and he tries to back up, but his legs hit his mattress. I loom over him. I’m a couple inches taller, but right now it’s exacerbated by the way he’s shrinking into himself. He probably thinks I’ve lost my mind. I think I have. I’ve never spoken to him like this, never been so aggressive. I’m not a fighter. But God, right now I’m close to throwing fists.
“Start. Talking,” I growl.
“E-East. Back off, man,” he stutters out.
I throw my head back and laugh, the wild sound swirling around the room. “Back off?” I lean forward so we’re barely an inch apart. “No,” I bite out. “You don’t fucking deserve the courtesy.” I jab my finger into his sternum. “Start.” Jab. “Talking.”
His mouth tightens, and his nostrils flare. He’s getting pissed. I can see it in the spark lighting in his green eyes. Good. My skin feels too tight, the itch to fight making it hard to form rational thought. I shove him, and his hands shoot out behind him to keep from falling onto his bed. He bares his teeth, and then his hand is on my chest. He tries to push me away, but I lean into him until he’s bent backward over his bed. I’ve always been bigger. I’m a wall of muscle, unlike his lean build.
“Give me some fucking space and maybe I’ll talk,” he spits out at me.
When I don’t move, something dangerous flashes in his eyes. For a moment he’s falling away from me, then in the next second he lets out a roar and hurls himself at me.
I stumble backward. My blood races through me, fast and furious, a hundred-mile-per-hour fastball raging through my veins. I regain my balance and charge at him. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my mind, I’m vaguely aware that this is probably not the healthiest way to handle our shit, but I’m too far gone. Too hurt. Too decimated by what he’s done.
We slam into the side of his bed and fall to the floor with a crash so loud I’m sure it sounds like we’re going to fall through the ceiling. Then it’s a frantic struggle to come out on top. We roll, we claw, we throw knees. It’s petulant, but it’s fucking heady. He gets me on my back, my jaw trapped under his hand. His palm presses my jaw into the floor, an uncomfortable stretch burning through my neck at the awkward angle.
