“Kind of like you?” Jelani asks Rafael with a teasing lilt to his heavy Hampshire accent.
“I guess,” Rafael grumbles, reaching up to twist the gold nose ring in his nostril.
Jelani brings his attention back to me with a small, reassuring smile. “I can’t say I know Adhira or her friends that well, but of the time I’ve spent with them, Adhira is by far the quietest and most direct. I think she just has her walls built high, much like our favourite captain over there,” he says, pointing to Rafael with raised brows. “That is, until Elise showed up and rocked his world with her equally grumpy arse.”
That makes me chuckle. We’veallnoticed the change in him since they told Coach about their relationship.
“Can we quit talking about me and focus on Elijah’s problems instead?” he all but growls.
“Sure, Cap,” Nakoa teases. “So, the little viper’s been giving you a run for your money?”
“You can say that,” I groan, my shoulders slumping. “Just when I think she’s finally getting used to having me around, she shuts me out.” I’m not sure how much more silence I can take in our flat.
“She probably just likes her own space. Why don’t you text us the next time you feel like the silence is swallowing you whole, and we can go out?” Jelani asks.
“How did you know it was?—”
“Because, mate, before I met these two, I spent a lot of time thinking I was solely responsible for everyone else without considering what that was doing to me. I don’t think any of us want you to get to that place.”
His words are like a sledgehammer to my undeniably fragile heart. We continue chatting for a short while longer before cleaning up and heading out together. When we get to the parking lot, they add me to their group chat, aptly named “Thigh Daddies,” and I head home feeling a little lighter than I had before.
My usual spot outside our building was taken, so I had to park a ways down. On my walk to our flat, I passed a small shop with a sale on cashmere blankets. The one displayed in the front window had an image of a mother and baby orca jumping out of the water together, and even though I don’t believe in buying anyone’s affection, I couldn’t help stopping in.
After I finally make it home, I add the blanket to the stack Adhira keeps beside the sofa, hoping the gesture will at least let her know I’m thinking of her.But like, not in a stalker-ish way.
My stomach grumbles loudly as I exit the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, tucking it securely around my hips.
My little heart-to-heart with the Thigh Daddies and my subsequent stop at the shop down the street put me behind schedule, and it feels like I’m starving. Adhira has been avoiding me since the game last week, so it’s unlikely she would be in the living room during the day.
I’ll just slip out, grab a snack, and finish getting dressed before making something more substantial. My fingers wrap around the knob, twisting and pulling the door open, but my feet don’t carry me into the kitchen like I’d planned.
No, instead, I hold my breath as I listen to one side of a conversation Adhira is having in the living room, standing here like a Peeping Tom.
“Yes, Mummy, everything is going well in school,” she says, pausing to listen to whatever her mum is saying on the other end.She’s in school?“I have everything I need for classes.” Another pause. “No, I don’t think we’re doing white coat ceremonies until before we start clinicals next year. I’ll let you know though.”
White coat ceremony?Is she in med school or something?
I stand here like the awkward creep that I evidently am until she tells her parents she loves them and hangs up.
And because I have no sense of self-preservation, I waltz into the kitchen, unable to keep my next words contained to the safety of my mind.
“I didn’t know you were in school.”
Her sharp eyes shoot to me, narrowing on my face.Whoops.
“Eavesdropping, Elijah? Really? Are you twelve?” she asks, scoffing, chin turned upward. But her eyes betray her, dropping to my chest and roaming lower in a way that lights my blood on fire.
I clear my throat, tapping a finger along my cheekbone. “I’m afraid my eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
She scowls at me, and I snicker, knowing I shouldn’t encourage her bad mood but unable to stop myself—this is the most interaction we’ve had all week, save for the very informative origami-folded notes she sticks in the fridge in place of the Tupperware container I leave her. I’ve gathered they’re her way of saying thank you, and I think I like her version better.
“If you didn’t want me to look, you’d have had the good sense to put on some clothes before traipsing around our shared flat with nothing but a scrap of fabric to cover your dick. You preen under attention, Elijah, evenIcan see that.”
Well, shit.
I scratch at the nape of my neck, words evading me. While her eyes roaming over me hadn’t been intentional, she assessed me perfectly.
“Sorry,” I apologise, feeling my cheeks flame. “You want dinner?” I ask, pulling a pan from under the cabinet.
