“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I huff, dragging a hand down my face before turning on my heel. Collecting my hairbrush, towel and wash bag, Thiago appears at my side with my practice gear, folded in a perfect pile balanced on his hand. I take the pile, stuffing it under my arm and make a beeline for the bathroom.The pair remain in my room, filling it with their testosterone. I dread to think what they’ll talk about, if they talk at all.
If they want normal, they’re getting normal—forced, stitched-together, barely-holding-by-a-thread normal, but normal all the same.
The bathroom door clicks shut behind me, sealing me in the bright space while my heart trips over itself. Act normal. Act normal. That’s all I chant through my head as I set my clothes aside and dive into the shower. Scrubbing quickly, I dry off and change into the clean sports bra and leggings, waiting for the mirror to defog so I can tie my hair up.
Gripping the edge of the basin, I stare at my reflection slowly coming into focus. The faint shadows beneath my eyes stand out first, my skin still a shade too pale. More condensation clears and just as I’m about to pick up my toothbrush, I freeze.
Just above the swell of my breast, half-hidden from where fabric sits, is a dark, unmistakable mark. A hickey about the size of a kiwi, or rather, the size of Everest’s mouth. Heat floods my face instantly.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. There’s no way Thiago missed that, yet he said nothing. Dragging my jersey down, I temporarily erase the evidence of my poor life choices. Or excellent ones. The jury is still out. Either way, at least I got to ride Ev…Nope. Not thinking about it. I grab my hair tie, yanking my hair up into a ponytail with more force than necessary before bolting for the door, too distracted and too flustered to remember that other people exist in this building.
“Oof—” I stumble back, rebounding off a solid wall of muscle. My hands shoot out instinctively, catching myself against a chest that definitely does not belong to Thiago or Everest. My head snaps up, and my stomach drops.
Reid stands there, stormy gray eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my pulse spike for all the wrong reasons.There’s something off about him, even more than usual. His stillness is too controlled as if he’s holding himself together by sheer force.
There’s no trace of the man who sat patiently while I painted over his skin, or the one who worked conditioner through my hair with an almost reverent touch. That version of him has vanished completely, stripped away to reveal something colder, and now he’s watching me like I’m a problem he hasn’t quite solved yet. Neither of us moves, his chest barely rising beneath my palms.
“You’re back,” Reid states in a flat tone, but there’s an edge buried underneath it, like those words aren’t the ones he actually wants to say.
“Evidently,” I breathe, stepping away from him and folding my arms across my chest, needing to put a barrier between us. I thought it was only me who would be changed when I got back. A chill skates down my spine, goosebumps prickling beneath the collar of my jersey as Reid’s gaze doesn’t waver, nor does he make an effort to leave. Footsteps sound behind him before the silence can become any more taut than it already is.
“Everything okay here, Amorzinha?” Thiago’s voice sounds as he reaches me first, my gym bag looped over his chest. Lifting my arm, he slips it into the crook of his possessively. I don’t pull away, not even as Reid’s gaze drops to where we’re connected, something dark flaring briefly in his eyes before it’s smoothed over again.
A second later, Everest steps up beside Reid, and the shift in the air is immediate. A glance passes between them, seemingly loaded with something I can’t quite place but definitely don’t like. It’s gone as fast as it appears, both of them resetting as if nothing happened, but I caught it. I know I did.
“Erm…yeah, I guess,” I say, even though it sounds weak to my own ears. Three pairs of broad shoulders brush one another,three sets of eyes on me as I struggle to keep my posture stiff. My brows draw together, the air pressing down heavier with each passing second. It’s not just tension, it’s something else. Something unsaid, as if we’re all withholding secrets that can never see the light of day.
“Should we get to practice then?” I add, desperate to break whatever this is since no one seems capable of doing so. Everest nods, barging past us all to lead the way. Reid’s eyes track his every step, then turns on his heel and storms back to his room. I inhale, only just feeling like my lungs can function again. “What the fuck was all that about?”
“Hmm? Not sure what you mean. Come on, these lackies won’t train themselves,” Thiago shrugs, tugging my arm along. There’s a strain in his smile but I pretend not to notice. I only have the mental capacity to deal with so many mind-fucks at one given time, and I have a feeling lacrosse practice is about to take up all of it.
Chapter Forty Seven
“It’s never not going to be weird, is it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at the sight before me. By my side, also with arms crossed and a suspicious expression, Everest shakes his head.
“Nope.” From the sidelines, we watch Thiago practically vibrate with energy, his grin wide enough to split his face in two. His dark curls are a mess from sprinting up and down the field with the other team members, advising Danny on his form and handing Claire a water bottle when needed. Then, when the drill is finished, Thiago does a round of high fives and fist pumps, congratulating the team on another great practice. This is the third time it's happened since we got back.
“I thought having practice before breakfast would dampen his spirit,” Everest huffs, but there’s no real malice to it. Thiago is like a lovable puppy who can soften even the hardest of hearts.
“Ahh,” I smirk. “You underestimate the power of ADHD, my friend.” Everest shoots me a raised brow, our weird camaraderie shining through now that the dust has settled. I mean, he has seen me naked from every possible angle, so there's that. “Maybe we should have him as a mascot.”
“Oh god, then he’ll never leave,” Everest chuckles and then sighs, as if he can’t believe what his life has become. I turn my attention back to Thi, who is now walking over to the stands with Mitchell.
“Also, fuck you for practice before breakfast,” I remember to add, even though I’ve already said it several times. Everest had sent out a group text late last night to announce today’s change of schedule, mentioning that Radley is looking for a rematch and we need to improve our form. I reckon he just has other plans later that he doesn’t want to broadcast.
I don’t mind really, even if I’m not buzzing like Thiago before my morning coffee. The last of the autumn warmth is fading and I have a vague plan to steal Thiago after his classes so we can enjoy it. A normal afternoon where I don’t flinch every time there’s a loud bang or keep looking over my shoulder for the hint of a uniform.
I’m getting better, and each passing day without incident helps, especially now that the rumors of mine and Everest’s explosive diarrhea episode have calmed down. It seems Thiago went all out on crafting our alibis, but I’d rather that than suspicions over where we really were.
“Earth to Meg,” Everest snaps his fingers in front of my face and I jolt.
“Huh?” I scrunch up my nose and knock his hand aside. His green eyes watch me cautiously, digging through whatever secrets my expression is revealing.
“I said, same time tomorrow?”
“Don’t push your luck,” I snort, forcing my feet to move as I wave my middle finger at him. The players on the field are starting to drift off in clusters, more than a few tossing waves and casual goodbyes in my direction. I’m caught off guard every time.
Approaching Thiago, I hover on the edge of his conversation with Mitchell until the big muscled brute makes his exit, clapping Thi on the shoulder with surprising gentleness for someone who looks like he could bench press a car.
