I swear I can hear his heart beating through the silence between us. I dare to glance his way and find him staring back at me.
“You don’t have to freak out. Bode. You and I both know it’s not true.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. But…” I dry my palms on my jeans. “Why would she think that? Just because we’re close doesn’t mean I want to be more than friends.”
“Chill, man. This is no reason to have an existential crisis.” Bryce huffs. “Maybe she was looking for a reason and couldn’t find another. We know she’s always hated me. I’m the perfect scapegoat.” The reasoning makes sense—his frustration is with Amber and not me.
I’m mesmerized by his confidence in all of this. I wish I could have as much. When he throws his arm over my shoulders, trying to shake some sense into me, I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay. I’m fine. Just an excuse to get rid of me. Got it.”
“That’s the spirit. See, you were just a shitty-ass boyfriend.” He cackles as he jumps back from my attempt at a dead arm and runs down the hall toward our bedrooms.
As I lazily walk back to my room, I’m still not convinced Amber’s claims are completely baseless. Why did I choose Bryce over her so many times? A soft tap on the door before it opens makes me smile, but my gut churns with unease because I’m about to lie to my best friend for the first time.
“Hey, in all seriousness. You good?”
“Yeah, Bryce.” I remember to smile. “I’m good.”
He nods with a one-sided smile, and I remember that small birthmark he has on that side of his jaw. It’s part of the reason he grew out his beard as soon as he started getting facial hair. He hated it so much, no matter how much I told him I liked it because it almost resembles a four-leaf clover.
“Need a hug?”
“I’ll never say no.” I smile for real this time as he strides toward me to give the twenty seconds I crave.
He wraps around me, my shoulders drop, and just like that, everything feels right when I’m in his arms.
Bryce offers a smile and goes to bed without another word, but for some reason I’m feeling a little lost again. Lingering thoughts keep me awake well into the morning hours, and by the time I get out of bed to head to the gym, I’m exhausted.
Walking into the training facility, I see multiple teammates already starting their routines.
“Slacking this morning, huh, Foster?” Of course, Davidson is the first to comment on my tardiness.
“Give me a break. It’s only ten minutes.”
The chuckles from around the room tell me this isn’t going to be an easy day.
“Foster, you look like shit.” Mickells is next to dish out the jests as I walk into the locker room. “Did you lose a fight with your girlfriend last night?”
The comment should upset me since, as of last night, I no longer have a girlfriend—weirdly enough, it doesn’t. I know we weren’t connecting recently, and she seemed to always be in a bad mood—and now I have an explanation for everything. Even so, I should’ve known something was happening between us when we were spending less time together, and the sex was getting less enjoyable each time. Hell, it’s been well over a month, and I don’t even miss it.
“Foster, you’re supposed to lift the weights and put them down.” Davidson demonstrates with the free weights in front of me that I’ve apparently been sitting in front of for however long. I don’t even remember coming out here. “See, like this. Try it.”
“Fuck off, asshole.” Feeling like a zombie is a weird concept, but I finally understand what it means. A part of me insists Amber is off the mark on this one, but then a memory pops up, and damn, does it finally make sense.
A few years ago, when Bryce came to the gym with me, while we were changing in the locker room, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I didn’t know what came over me, but watching him change, even if it was only down to his boxer briefs, had me captivated. His thick quads were the first thing I noticed. The contour of every muscle was so defined, and then he turned around and displayed his bubble butt—feeling my dick twitchwas what snapped me out of gawking over my best friend’s body. I’ve seen him undressed before, even naked once or twice, but at that moment something different was happening. I chalked it up to Amber being away on vacation with her friends and I was horny. Looking back now, it was a lousy excuse.
“Dude, are you going to work out or just stare into space all day?”
“Mickells, will you get off my ass?”
I notice my dick is half-mast as I’m about to stand up, so that’s a hard nope. What the fuck is happening to me? I take a deep breath and start thinking about my grandma, golf, and those disgusting pimple-popping videos. Anything to stop whatever is happening in my gym shorts. It only takes a minute before I’m able to stand and get the fuck out of here.
My mind is all over the place on the way home. How can Amber’s opinion mess with my head so much? She’s just jealous; it’s not real. She has me doubting everything now. I would know if I was in love with Bryce. So what if my dick got hard once watching him get changed—that doesn’t mean anything. He was wearing boxer briefs, for Christ’s sake. They leave nothing to the imagination. It happens to all guys at least once, right?
When I walk through our apartment door, I see Bryce sitting on the couch eating cereal in his boxers. Fuck my life. Talk about testing me.
“Hey, Bode. Have a good workout?”
“Hey. Nah, not feeling well,” I quickly blurt out before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and practically running to my room. The last fucking thing I need is for Bryce to see my dick getting hard for him.
