“It’s not that bad,” he says, glancing at the clock. “You just need to actually do the reading.”
I scoff. “Okay, nerd.”
That earns me the tiniest smile.
And fuck me if it doesn’t make him even more attractive.
What the hell is happening?
I’m still lowkey spiraling, quietly questioning my entire personality, sexual identity, and emotional intelligence, when the door swings open and in walks Hughie.
And if I thought I was confused?
The second Hugh sees us, me still sitting shirtless on the table, Jacob sitting by the desk, he freezes. Like full-body, deer-in-the-headlights energy.
His eyes dart from me to Jacob and then back again, and I swear to god, the guy pales. Like, visibly.
He opens his mouth to say something, then immediately shuts it again, looking like he’s mentally flipping through flashcards labeledWHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
I blink, trying to figure out what exactly he thinks he’s walked in on because, let me tell you, nothing even remotely suspect is happening here. Unless you count me realizing I apparently have a thing for smart, ripped trainers. Which I guess is kind of suspect.
Before either of us can say anything, Jacob speaks up in the calmest, most even voice. “It’s fine.”
That’s all he says.
And Hughie, like a goddamn golden retriever trained to detect emotional landmines, immediately relaxes.
He still looks about 80% tense, but he nods slowly, like that one statement answered a question only he had the context for.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting here wondering what the actual fuck is going on? This entire interaction has been weird, and that’s fucking saying something when Hughie is involved. The guy is great, don’t get me wrong. But he is super socially awkward and he hates people so you never know what you’ll get. But this feels like new levels of weird.
I swing my legs off the table, grabbing the ice pack so it doesn’t slide off my shoulder. “Okay, someone want to clue me in? What the fuck was that?”
Hughie’s back to being stoic as shit, which is annoying, and Jacob’s already heading back to his laptop.
“Nothing,” Hughie says too quickly. “Just didn’t realize you were still here.”
“Still here?” I echo, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve been here ten minutes. What, you thought I ran off and joined a cult in the twenty minutes that have passed since practice ended?”
Jacob doesn’t even look up at my terrible joke. Hughie shrugs, clearly ready to bury whatever that moment was in the deepest pit of emotional repression he can find.
I scoff, sliding off the table fully. “Whatever. You two are fucking weird.”
Neither of them denies it.
And as I head toward the door, I catch Jacob’s eyes for half a second and for a moment, just a moment, I swear there's something there.
It looks a whole fuckton like guilt but that makes no sense.
Maybe I’ve just been hit in the head too many times. Honestly, I don’t fucking care anymore.
8
Griffin
Today feels…weird.I spent way too long replaying that weird-ass interaction with Hughie and Jake in my head, which is extra annoying considering how aggressively I told myself I didn’t give a fuck. Repeatedly.
Turns out that was a lie.
