“You know, people who say they are being chivalrous are actually just being disingenuous.”
“Well,” I splutter, because I’m flustered and have no idea what else to say.I stare at him—okay, I stare into his eyes, and try not to get lost.
“You can sleep in it tonight.I’ll sleep in it tomorrow.”
“Thank you for being chivalrous,” I say, pulling away from his eyes.
“Don’t mention it,” he says, and pulls out his phone.
“I’m going to div—I mean, jump into the shower, do you mind?”
“Knock yourself out,” he says, and I actually think he means it.
I take my toiletries out of my bag and head into the shower, loading up a playlist on my phone and resisting the urge not to sing while in there.
When I get out of the shower, I can hear muffled voices.Well, one voice, talking quietly on the phone.I press my ear to the door like every amateur sleuth in every comedy spy movie.And unsurprisingly, with my ear pressed to wood—door wood—and my wet hair clinging to my scalp, I can hear even less, so I stand up and push the door open gently.Kyle whips his head around so fast; I could have sworn he was trying to reenact the scene from The Exorcist.
“…I gotta go.Yes, he’s back.No.No.Goodbye.”And with that he hangs up and once again we’re staring at each other, and I’m getting lost in his eyes.
Chapter 19
Kyle
Fuck.
I watch drops of water race down his torso.Over his abs.Over his light treasure trail.Over his perfectly defined ‘V.’The worst part of it all?He’sleaningon the doorframe—with a smirk on his face.I repeat.Fuck.
I drag my eyes up from his dripping wet torso and busy myself with my phone.AJ is impossible.Impossibly good looking.Impossible to deal with.And this situation we’re in is impossible with a capital ‘I.’
I call Trish to tell her the book fantasy she had manifested had come true.She screams with delight.She then tells me to “get some,” to which I told her “no” multiple times before hanging up.She was impossible too.She told me that I’m a self-saboteur.That I seek out the bad to prove myself right about why the world is shit.I can’t help how my brain works.And it’s another reason I’ve tried to be so closed off.But somehow, AJ always breaks through.Being the person in the family who has to provide has made me tough, but I guess in some ways mentally fraught too.
“Sorry if I interrupted,” AJ says, breaking me from my thoughts.I don’t look up from my phone.
“You didn’t.”
There’s another long pocket of awkward silence.AJ once again insists on filling it by asking more questions.I grunt my way through them, and then he says, “Mind if I get changed?”
“Why would I?We get changed in front of our teammates all the time.”
“Yes, but I haven’t fucked any of mine.Have you?”
I put my phone down and definitely do not look at the imprint of his dick in his white towel.
“No,” I say, moving my eyes up to his abs, which seem to have doubled in volume since I last placed a hand on them.
“Just—would you mind turning around?”he asks, pleading.
I do as he asks and pull my focus to my phone.A few seconds later he says, “Done,” and I turn around to see he’s changed into joggers.Bloody gray ones and a tight white top.His mini mullet looks all fluffy, and I want to run my hand through it.There’s a lot of things I want to do, but he’s literally the worst, so I push those thoughts from my mind.He jumps on the bed and shuffles up to the top, resting his back on the white quilted headboard.
The silence lasts no more than thirty seconds—I counted—and that makes me think of my dad, which in turn removes all thoughts of a sexual nature.So great, thanks, Dad.“What did you say?”I ask.
“I said, are you excited about potentially playing?”
What kind of question was that?Of course, I am.It’s what I’ve dreamed of.Whatwe’vedreamed of.
I try to remove some of the venom from my words and say, “Yeah, I think we will get a good run out.England have already qualified from the group.These are formality games.The boss will want to see how we play together, I guess.”
The room goes silent again, and I shift uncomfortably on the end of the bed.
