I swallow hard, fighting the ridiculous urge to crawl out of my own goddamn skin, because yes, there’s a million things I could talk about, but every one of them sounds insane the second I try to line them up in my head.
I’m a mess. A twisted-up knot of feelings I don’t really know how to unravel, and I think, no, Iknow, Hughie already sees it. He’s just waiting for me to catch up to myself.
“I, uh… you were right,” I say finally, dragging the words out slowly.
He raises a brow like he already knows what’s coming. “I usually am. What about this time?”
I roll my eyes and mimic his voice, throwing just enough sass in to distract from how flayed open I feel, “My littlecrush.”
He snorts and shakes his head, grinning like this is the most predictable outcome in the world. “Okay, so you like Griffin. He’s cool. I get it.”
I narrow my eyes at him and scowl. “I need to not like him.”
He shrugs. “You’re not dumb. You know it won’t turn into anything. Just like… hook up with someone else. Reset your brain.”
I scoff, raising a brow in full dramatic disbelief. “That’s real rich coming from the guy who never hooks up.”
Another shrug because Hughie is the king of being unfazed. “I don’t have the desire to do that.”
And that’s true. It’s something we’ve talked about here and there. Hughie’s relationship with sex is different than mine, and that’s fine. I respect it. I love him for trusting me with it. And I don’t press, because when or if he wants to talk more about it, I’ll be here. No questions asked.
“I just… I don’t know if I can hook up with someone else without, like, envisioning him,” I mutter, the words escaping before I can fully process how much of a walking tragedy I sound like.
Hughie grimaces like I just said something anatomically horrifying. “Fucking gross.”
I shoot him a look and he smirks, because he knows I know I walked into that one.
Then he sighs and sits up straighter, like he’s shifting from best friend mode to big brother mode. “I know it’s hard. I know that crushes are like… kryptonite for you. You feel shit too hard. Always have. But you can’t let yourself get too deep into this. You can’t get emotionally involved and start building castles in the sky with a guy who’s, like… ultra straight. And still very much dating Sabrina, who sucks, by the way.”
He gives me a look and sighs. “I’m not saying you’re not good enough, because you are, dude. You’re fucking awesome. But I don’t want you to get hurt by pining after someone who’s… unavailable. Emotionally, sexually, whatever.”
He’s right.
God, he’s so right it actually hurts.
I’m not an idiot. I know Griffin’s straight. I know he’s in a relationship, even if it’s the hot mess express. I know there are boundaries I can’t cross and lines I won’t blur.
I know all of that, and yet…
Yet.
My brain still replays the way Griffin looked up at me from where he was sitting, all flushed and sleep-soft and shirtless, his hair a perfect fucking disaster. I still remember the way his shoulder muscles moved under my hands, hot and tight and built like they were sculpted by an ancient god with too much time on their hands. I can still feel the way his thighs pressed against the outsides of my legs when I stood between them, trying to keep my breath steady while pretending I wasn’t seconds away from absolutely losing my shit.
And yeah, I should just hook up with someone else. Anyone else. I should go out and get laid and move the hell on with my life. But I know that I won’t…or at least, I don’t want to.
And I swear to God, I hate myself just a little bit more for it.
Because I know better.
But I can’t help it.
Oh, fuck my life.
15
Griffin
We walkinto the basketball team’s house and I am already regretting the decision to come. Mack is grinning like the self appointed mayor of Hornyville with some soccer chick draped over his arm like she’s a human scarf, Terry is already wobbling around with that pleasantly wrecked swagger he gets after two too many drinks,and then there’s Sabrina tucked under my arm looking like a goddamn barbie.
