He learned I couldn’t sleep without white noise.
I learned he hated silence but pretended he didn’t.
The company on the road felt nice, especially in the absence of Evan. I’d always pictured these late-night drives and hotel room stays being with him, and I never thought much outside of that. But sharing this with Cal… it felt right. Like gravity resetting itself. After all, he was the only other person who knew what kind of pressure I was feeling right now. Sure, everyone in the locker room had eyes on them, but the eyes on Cal and I were different. We were being groomed, programmed, set up to be the face of one of the flagship shows. Even though neither one of us had explicitly said to the other that we knew this was the road we were heading down, it was an unspoken truth, one we both felt deep in our bones.
One night in Atlanta, Georgia, we were out on the hotel balcony.
It was after midnight. We had wrestled a damn good match where I had come out the winner; it was a great night. But here we both were, restless, sleepless, hanging out in silence on a rather small hotel balcony that overlooked downtown Atlanta. Many of our coworkers were walking the streets below us, we knew it, but we were rarely invited to join whatever club or bar excursions the others in the locker room had planned. We were isolated by our ambition.
The humidity felt like a thick weight on our skin. The hot summer night lingered around us like a force field, sticking my shirt to my back.
“Evan,” Cal said casually, leaning over the railing next to me.
I glanced at him. “What about him?”
“You two ever…?” He tilted his head slightly, seeming as if he hoped I would know what he meant before he finished the sentence. “More than friends?”
I stared at him like he’d just asked if I secretly ran a second life as a spy. Was thisactuallyhappening right now?
“What?”
He shrugged, still watching me with those piercing hazel eyes. “You talk about him a lot. Every story you tell involves him in some way, and he was always hanging close by at the PC, so I just assumed maybe you guys…”
My face went hot instantly. “No. God, no—he’s—he’s my best friend.”
He studied me, that sarcastic smirk beginning to grow across his lips. My face grew redder by the second, the heat having nothing to do with the Atlanta weather.
“Just friends,” I added, flustered. “Always have been. Look, Evan is like the king of hookups anyway. Women love him. He’s got that golden retriever energy. He’s never met a girl he didn’t want to charm.”
Cal chuckled, a low, dark sound that seemed to vibrate right through the floorboards.
“But you aren’t like him.”
“Well, I mean—” I stammered, the words coming out in a rush, tripping over my own tongue. “I just—I don’t do the dating thing, okay? Wrestling is everything. I’d be a shitty hookup and an even shittier boyfriend. I’m too focused. I’m too technical. And quite frankly, pretty damn selfish with my time.”
Cal stepped closer, invading my space until I was backed against the glass sliding door behind me. The smell of his cologne and hotel soap filled my nose. “So, which part of the defense is it, Silas?”
I blinked, my mouth going dry. “What?”
“The hookup part?” He leaned in, his voice dropping into a low, predatory rasp. The smirk on his face now felt as if it was carved to get under my skin. My body felt as if it was on fire, a sudden, sharp coil of heat tightening low in my gut. God, I would give anything to just disappear in this moment.
“Or is it the guys part?” he whispered, his gaze dropping to my mouth for a fraction of a second. “Because you’re tripping over your tongue pretty hard to make sure I knowEvanlikes women.”
My heart hit my ribs like a trapped bird. Why did this make me feel flustered? But also, how come I was only really defending Evan in this, and not myself?
“I—I’m not defending anything! I just don’t have time for it.”
“Right,” Cal mused, his eyes tracking the way my pulse jumped in my neck. I felt like prey being stalked, like every piece of me was being tracked as he waited for the perfect moment to deliver a lethal strike.
“A shitty hookup. I find that hard to believe. You’re very… technical, Si. Very precise, and you always want to finish out strong. I imagine you’d be quite focused on the task at hand, especially if you knew you’d be getting a little bit of praise in the mix.”
I stood there, paralyzed, as he let the words hang in the heavy air between us before he turned and walked back inside.
Why did that entire conversation throw me this way? But also, why was my dick getting hard right now? I looked down, panic surging as I realized the friction of my sweatpants was suddenly unbearable. I had never even considered looking at a man inthatway. Hell, I didn’t even have time to look at women like that. I stood there in complete confusion, and even slight embarrassment, for much longer than necessary. I didn’t even know what the hell to make of that entire interaction, and I damn sure was not about to add in a random pop-up boner to the mix.
Jesus, what the actual fuck is wrong with me?
By the end of the summerAftershocktour, Cal and I actually felt like we’d become friends. Our run had been stellar, gaining the attention of theShowdownGM entirely. Rob Harlow had even called for a meeting with us once the tour was over. We both knew what this meant, though we never spoke of it. The anxiety surrounding it said enough.
