I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out my phone, scrolling through nothing, just needing something to do with my hands.
When he came out, his hair was damp, and he'd changed into a t-shirt and sweats. The t-shirt was old, worn soft, and it clung to his shoulders in a way that made my mouth go dry.
Stop. Fucking stop.
“Bathroom's yours,” he said, already moving toward the desk to pull out the extra blanket from the closet.
I grabbed my stuff and disappeared into the bathroom before I could do something stupid like stare at him.
The shower was scalding, and I stood under it longer than necessary, trying to wash off the game, the adrenaline, the want that wouldn't quit. By the time I got out, my skin was pink and my head was clearer.
Or at least, that's what I told myself.
I pulled on boxer briefs and a t-shirt, brushed my teeth, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.
You can do this. One night. You've survived worse.
When I came out, Coach had made a nest on the floor between the bed and the window using the extra blanket and pillow. He was already lying down, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
I turned off the main light, leaving just the lamp on the nightstand, and climbed into bed.
The mattress was decent. The sheets were clean. Everything about this should have been fine.
Except I could hear him breathing.
I stared at the ceiling and tried to will myself to sleep.
“Hartley.”
His voice cut through the darkness, low and rough.
“Yeah?”
A pause. Long enough that I thought maybe he'd changed his mind about whatever he was going to say.
“You played well tonight.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
Another pause.
“Get some sleep.”
I wanted to laugh. Wanted to tell him that sleep was the last thing that was going to happen tonight.
Instead, I said, “You too.”
I was so fucked.
CHAPTER 13
CLOSE QUARTERS
GRANT
Iwoke up to the sound of Hartley breathing. The room was dark except for the thin line of light bleeding under the door from the hallway, and I lay there on the floor with my back aching and my neck stiff, listening to him breathe like it was the only sound in the world.
This was a mistake. The whole fucking situation was a mistake.
