I didn’t tell him the real reason I was wearing it. I wore it because I knew exactly what it did to Cal. Ever since that night on the balcony, Cal had been obsessed with this specific hoodie. For weeks, he’d been whispering in my ear during matches, or while we were packing our bags, telling me exactly how badly he wanted to bend me over and fuck me while I was wearing nothing but this.
“The issue is—” Evan stopped. He leaned closer, his massive head hovering between the front seats. “Whoa. Hold on. What happened to your neck?”
My hand flew up to my collar instantly, yanking the hood up higher. “What?”
“Your neck,” Evan said, his voice dropping an octave. “It’s purple. That is a mouth print, Reed. A big one. Since when do you have game?”
“I have game,” I defended weakly.
“Who is she?” Evan pressed, ignoring Cal, who had gone very still in the passenger seat. “Is it a rat? A local? Or someone serious?”
I hesitated. I could deny it. But Evan was staring right at me.
“Just… someone I’m seeing,” I said.
“Well?” Evan prodded, grinning. “Give me details. Was it good? She leave that mark because she was mad or because she liked it?”
I felt Cal’s gaze on the side of my face. It was heavy. Intense. I expected him to snap. Instead, Cal shifted in his seat, turning his body toward me with a dark, reckless smirk.
“Yeah, Silas,” Cal purred, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Tell us. Was it good?”
My breath hitched. He was daring me. He was testing how far I would take the lie.
“It was… intense,” I began, gripping the steering wheel. I let my mind drift back to the night before. To the shower. To Cal carrying me. “We started in the bathroom. But she was… she was getting handsy. Needy. I had to carry her out to the bed.”
Cal’s eyes darkened, his pupils blowing wide as he recognized the memory.
“Carried her?” Cal pressed, his voice low. “She like that?”
“She loved it,” I lied, flipping the pronouns but keeping the heat. “She practically begged me to fuck her. Told me not to stop.”
“Is that right?” Cal murmured, licking his lips.
“Yeah,” I whispered, glancing at Cal. “I gave her exactly what she wanted. I went harder. She liked it rough. Liked the marks.”
The air in the car shifted instantly. It became thick, charged with a voltage that made the hair on my arms stand up. Cal looked like he was about to jump across the console and devour me.
“Sounds… fun,” Cal said, his voice thick.
“Okay, enough,” Evan groaned, leaning back. “God, Kincaid, look at you. You’re practically drooling. You’re jealous.”
“I’mnotjealous,” Cal said, though his voice was tight.
“You are!” Evan crowed. “You’re mad because Silas pulled a bad bitch and you’re stuck striking out. Bet you can’t even get it up without a script, Deadlock.”
Cal whipped around in his seat so fast the seatbelt locked. He glared at Evan, his eyes flashing with a mix of genuine offense and arrogance.
“I can get it up fine,” Cal snapped, his voice dangerously low. “Do you need to fucking see? Cause I have pictures.”
My face burst into flames.
I stared straight at the road, my knuckles turning white. I knew he had pictures. Cal loved sending them to me at the worst possible times, when I was in catering, when I was in the locker room surrounded by veterans, or when we were sitting in a crowded airport. He loved watching me check my phone, turn bright red, and try to adjust my pants without anyone noticing.
Evan, thankfully, just snorted in disgust. “Gross, dude. No. Put your phone away.”
“Then watch your mouth,” Cal snarled, turning back around. “My sex life is biblical. Ask anyone.”
He slumped back in his seat, fuming. But under the cover of the dashboard lights, his hand snaked across the center console. He found my thigh. He squeezed hard, possessive, angry, and turned on.
