Page 10 of No Going Back

“Nah, it’s fine.” But his gaze slides away fast, and he shoves another massive spoonful into his mouth like it’s a shield.

I lean against the counter, trying to act normal. “So… Hannah’s coming back on Thursday.”

I wait for the usual… a smile, “that’s good, man,” or “how’s she doing?” But instead, Cole slows way down, crunching barely moving, like time-lapse in reverse.

He swallows hard. “Oh,” he says. “Cool.”

I laugh, awkward and too loud. “Yeah… she wants to know if she can stay a few nights.”

“What’d you tell her?”

He’s fidgeting with the spoon now, twirling it between his fingers, restless in a way I don’t usually see from him.

I frown. “Well… I told her you’re a bit emotional right now.”

Cole barks a loud laugh, then tilts his head at me, eyes sharp. “Oh really? And she bought that, did she?”

“Not at all,” I admit. “She’ll probably call you at some point. Sorry.”

He smirks, just a little. “And what would you like me to tell her?”

I move to the fridge, pull out a bottle of water, and shrug like it’s nothing. “Whatever you want, man.”

I’m trying so hard to sound chill, to not blurt out the real mess in my head: I need space to figure out why looking at you this morning made me hard in two seconds flat, while talking to my girlfriend made me go soft. Why her voice grated. Why I threw you under the bus with that emotional excuse.

Cole points his spoon right at me. “Well, you seem very excited about your girlfriend’s return.”

The sarcasm drips. Of course he sees right through me, he always has. He knows me better than I know myself sometimes.

I stammer, gesturing vaguely, words scrambling. “No… I’m just… being a respectful roommate. This is your space too.”

He shifts on the couch, turning toward me, voice dropping into something testing, probing. “Well, you missed her so much. I mean… you’ll want some alone time, right? It’s been a whole month since you had sex with her… aren’t you looking forward to that?”

Shit… you know what? I hadn’t even thought about it, not once since yesterday. Yeah, I was dying for it, desperate enough to beg my best friend to let me fuck him… but after that release, after waking up and seeing Cole’s morning wood… no. Sex with Hannah hadn’t crossed my mind. I pictured cuddles, movie nights, her head on my chest, and breakfast in bed. Not her moaning under me.

Cole clears his throat, pulling me back. “Remy?”

My face is burning. “Dude, I’m not talking about that with you.”

He stands, carries his empty bowl to the sink right next to me. He’s too close, his bare shoulder brushes mine as he leans in to rinse the bowl, body heat radiating off him like a furnace. I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead.

His voice drops low, almost casual. “Maybe I’ll go stay with one of the guys over the weekend. Don’t wanna listen to all of Hannah’s whiny, desperate, high-pitched sex noises.”

That’s not something Cole would ever say. He’s never once talked shit about her to my face. He’s testing me. I should snap back, tell him to shut the fuck up, and defend her. But my eye twitches, and I inhale sharply, because… yeah. That’s exactly what she sounds like… needy, almost whiny. And the thought doesn’t turn me on, it just… sits there.

Cole laughs, deep and knowing. “I can’t wait to get laid at this party next weekend. Should be fun.”

My head snaps up. I look dead into his eyes. He’s smirking, smug, like he’s cracked something wide open and he knows it. He knows he’s the reason my brain is glitching, the reason I’m standing here half-hard again just from his proximity and his stupid testing words.

He claps my back once, firm, normal-friend shit, and his voice flips back to easy. “Right, let’s head out, man.”

I swallow thick. “Yep.”

4

Cole

I’m sat in the back row of the applied performance lecture hall, slouched low in the uncomfortable plastic seat, the kind that digs into your spine after ten minutes. The room is packed, around a hundred of us from the cohort, all kinesiology and sports science majors crammed in here for the strength, conditioning, and injury rehab module. The professor’s voice drones on from the front, something about progressive overload and tendon adaptation, PowerPoint slides flickering on the massive screen. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, and the AC is cranked too high, making the air smell faintly metallic.