But I'm not good enough for her. Never have been, never will be.
I drag myself out of bed, ignoring my throbbing cock as Ipull on compression shorts, basketball shorts, and a loose tank. My reflection in the mirror shows a man on the edge—dark circles under my eyes, jaw tight with tension. I look like I haven't slept in days, which isn't far from the truth.
The ride to the gym is a blur. I crank my music so loud it drowns out my thoughts, but it doesn't do shit to erase the memory of Reese's thighs clamped around my head, her taste flooding my mouth, her desperate cries as she came.
The Pit is practically empty at this hour, just how I like it. No fucking freshmen trying to figure out how the machines work, no groups of sorority girls taking selfies by the free weights.
Halsey's at the front desk, her blue faded hair piled on top of her head as she scrolls through her phone.
"You look like shit warmed over," she says without looking up.
"Thanks. Always a pleasure," I grunt.
That's when I see Declan Reid walking out of the back office, his dark hair messy like he just rolled out of bed. He's got that predatory smirk that makes most people nervous, but I've known him long enough to see past the bullshit.
As he passes Halsey, he tugs at her hair, and she flips him off without even looking up from her phone.
"Fuck off, Reid," she calls out, but there's no heat in her voice.
He catches sight of me and changes direction. "Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." His eyes narrow as he takes in my appearance. "You look like absolute dogshit, Blackwood."
"Thanks for the update," I mutter, heading toward the bench press.
Declan falls into step beside me. "C'mon, I'll spot you. Was about to do chest anyway."
I grunt in acknowledgment, already loading plates onto the bar. Declan helps, adding a forty-five to each side with practiced ease. The familiar weight-loading ritual calms me slightly, the metallic clang of plates grounding me in reality.
"So," Declan says as I position myself on the bench, "any particular reason you're here talking to me and not Reaper? Besides my face being prettier to look at than his ugly mug."
I snort, gripping the bar. "Cope’s got morning classes. And your face looks like something a dog would drag in after rolling in shit."
Declan laughs, positioning himself behind the bench. "At least I don't look like I've been awake for three fucking days straight. What's eating you, man? Or should I say who?"
I push out my first rep with more force than necessary. "Nothing's eating me."
"Bullshit." Declan watches my form with a critical eye. "This about that little dancer you're always following around? The one with the tight ass and the mouth that could make a priest question his vows?"
My grip tightens on the bar so hard my knuckles go white. "Watch it."
Declan's smirk widens. "Hit a nerve, did I? Interesting."
I push through five more reps, focusing on the burn in my chest rather than the urge to knock Declan's teeth down his throat.
"You know," he continues, seemingly oblivious to my growing irritation, "if you're not hitting that, someone else will."
The bar slams back into the rack with a metallic clang that echoes through the gym.
"We're not talking about this," I growl, sitting up and wiping sweat from my forehead.
Declan circles around to face me, that knowing smirk still firmly in place. "Why not? Everyone else is."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I snap, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long swig.
Declan leans against the bench, crossing his arms over his chest. "You and Little Miss Dancer. It's fucking painful watching you two dance around each other. You look like someone's been twisting your balls in a vice for weeks."
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," I growl, standing up to add more weight to the bar.
Declan steps closer, blocking my path. "Look, man, we're not exactly braiding each other's hair at sleepovers, but I've known you long enough to see what's happening. You come here to blow off steam, hit some shit, talk some shit out. Call me a fucking therapist, I don't know. But here's what I do know."
