by Hannah Gray
His slip of the word boyfriend sends my head into a tizzy. Not because I’m scared of the word, but because I didn’t know he’d use it to describe whatever we’re doing.
“Yeah, I said it.” He grins. “And I’ll say it again too. You’re mine, remember?”
I smile so hard that it actually hurts my cheeks. But I can’t help but grin like a damn fool.
“I remember.” I hug him. “Now, we need to go. We both have busy days ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Tell me about it.” He helps me up. “Stop trying to get me naked all the time so that you can have your way with me. Don’t you know this body needs rest, woman?”
“Oh, shut your mouth. You’re the one who has basically corrupted me.” I raise my eyebrows. “An elevator? Really? Really?”
“A locker room?” he mimics back. “Really?”
He has a point there. I guess we’re both sex-crazed teenagers.
“Oh, put your damn shirt on, would you?” I pick his shirt up off the ground and shove it at him. “Cover that heinous body up. It hurts my eyes.”
He grins and pats his perfectly sculpted abdomen, making me wrinkle my nose.
“You’re annoying. Go eat a cheeseburger.”
“Still haven’t eaten you,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head. “But you’d better believe I will real soon. You’re always too greedy and climb on top and ride me, so I never get the chance.”
I blush and pull back the curtain. I head toward the locker room door. As we walk through the pool area, panic arises in my gut that we’re about to be caught. I never imagined the pool would be open so late at night. But it was. And then what did I do? Used my time here to strip my boyfriend off and have another mind-blowing orgasm.
What has gotten into me?
Weston Wade. That’s what.
twenty-six
Weston
“Wade, what the fuck was that?!” Coach screams, hitting his hand on his clipboard. “We play Florida tomorrow. And you can’t even get this play right! Run it again!”
“Get it together, man,” Cole grunts through his mouthguard. “He’s right. We can’t lose that game tomorrow.”
Knox pats my back, and I expect another nag from him. Instead, he grins. “Tell you what, my main man. If you get it right this time, I’ll take you out for a fucking steak dinner after this. I know how much you like steak.”
“Can’t tonight anyway. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll get it right for the fucking hell of it. I know I’m distracted. I’m sorry for that. But I’ll get my shit together, and tomorrow, I promise you, I’ll fucking show up.”
“You turned down a movie date and now a steak dinner?” Knox gets back in position as we get ready to run the play again. “Beginning to take this shit personal, Westy.”
“Cut the shit and pay attention, you dumbasses,” Cole growls. “Blue twenty-two, blue twenty-two!”
I never look back, blocking the defense with everything in my body. Our tailback runs safely through before Cole fires him the ball, and he runs it into the end zone. Throwing it down as hard as he can before falling onto the grass.
“There you fucking have it. Steak dinner for Weston—oh, never mind! He’s too cool,” Knox says and looks at Cole. “I’ll take you to dinner just for being such a mothafucking stud muffin.”
“I’ve got plans, dude. Sorry.” He shrugs. “Go hang out with your best friend, Dex.”
“Fuck Dex.” Knox pouts and hangs his head down.
Dex is a defenseman on our team. He’s a dick, and Knox loves to fuck with him and piss him off.
“You guys suck. Nobody is around anymore. Storm, you’re out, chasing Ally. Which I don’t blame you because she’s hot.”
Cole shoots him a glare, making Knox hold his hands up.
“My bad. She’s … not hot?” He waves his arm at me. “And Wade is … well, I don’t fucking know what he’s doing. He just randomly isn’t home. I’m beginning to think he’s got a double life and he’s a secret serial killer or some shit.”
As Coach signals us to circle around him, we all jog over, and I look at Knox.
“I’m not a killer. I’m not doing anything sketchy or illegal. I just have shit going on. And one day, Knoxy, I’ll tell you all about it. But not today.”
“Fine,” he grumbles.
“About time you showed up today,” Coach says, his eyes narrowed on me. “Tomorrow is a big game. I don’t need to tell you that because you know. Florida is a good team. But we’re better.
“Storm, Wade, and Knox, you all live together, so you all need to watch game tapes tonight.” His eyes move to all of us. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” we say in unison.
But the truth is, Henley’s first swim meet starts soon. I need to be there, cheering her on. I don’t know how I’m going to explain to the guys that I can’t be at home, watching tapes. And hopefully, they’ll understand.
Once he dismisses us, I head straight to the locker room. Tonight’s a home meet, and I want to support her. Both our parents are likely already there, probably in the front row with a fucking Henley Hayes is number one T-shirt on or some shit.
She doesn’t need to be nervous for tonight, but I know that she is. Later, we’ll need to tell our parents the truth about what we’ve been up to. Well, maybe not in detail. But we’ll need to tell them that we no longer despise each other. But that we also aren’t friends, like we were before.
I know they’ll be thrilled. Henley isn’t partying every weekend or being an asshole anymore. And I’m not taking home random chicks just to stop thinking about her. I get to keep my dick intact from not sleeping around, and she isn’t numbing her pain with alcohol. It’ll be a win-win in our parents’ eyes.
But Dane will also be in town tomorrow. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t fucking stand the fact that Henley got so close with him.
All these questions float through my brain. Why were they so close? What brought them together? Did they hook up? Has he been inside of my girl?
Christ, I hope not. I don’t think I could come back from that if he has.
Somehow, I just don’t think that’s what their relationship was about. I think she heard those rumors about me, he was there to egg her on because he’d always been in love with her, and they bonded over me being a dick. End of story. I hope so anyway.
I was never jealous of him being around her before. But now, if he so much as touches her, I’ll probably beat the fuck out of him. Brother or not, he’s always known how I felt about her. He might have been in love with her too—or thought he was anyway. But it was nothing like what Henley and I always shared. He knew that, and he was envious. I’m twin A, and he’s twin B, and he’s fucking pissed over it.
My brother isn’t a bad person. He doesn’t have an evil side that lurks inside of him, ready to come out. His friends love him because he’s funny. He’s a hell of a quarterback with an arm of steel. He’s not a bad guy. But he came between me and the one person I’d no doubt take a bullet for. I can’t forgive him for that. Not when I don’t know what part he played in Henley’s hatred toward me over the past year.
I shower as fast as I can, but when I get out and walk to my locker to get dressed, Cole’s waiting for me.
“You sure you’re all right, brother? Big game tomorrow and all. I just want to make sure.” He sits on the bench, leaning his forearms against his legs.
I pull on my jeans under my towel and then grab my shirt. One might think the locker room is a bunch of grown-ass men, strutting around with their dicks out, but hell no. Thank fuck our locker room isn’t like that. Aside from Knox occasionally feeling the need to moon us, that is.
“I’ll be ready,” I say, putting my deodorant on. “Told you I would be, didn’t I?”
“Didn’t ask you if you’d be ready. Asked you if you were all right.” He glances up at me. “You’ve been weird lately. We hardly see you.”
“Storm, how do you figure? When we went to Club 83, y
ou both fucking left me there.”
Regret washes over his face. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Sorry, man. I just … Ally makes me not even think straight sometimes. Something came up—” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just say it. I’m whipped, and I fucking suck as a friend sometimes.”
“It’s all right, man.”
I can tell he feels bad. He has a certain bond with Ally that keeps her as his number one. As she should be. And I can’t really blame him because I’m doing the same damn thing with Henley.
His chin dips forward as he stares at me. “So, uh, are you ever going to talk to us about what the deal is with your brother?” He sits there, staring at me with a sincere look on his face. “I know you told us you didn’t want to talk about it, but, man, I gotta tell you, I want to make sure your head is in the game. This is a big game for us. Can you set your personal shit aside?”
I nod and sigh. “Look, man, our issues run deep. We haven’t spoken in a long-ass time. Trust me though, I want nothing more than to crush him on the field tomorrow. I’ll show up.”
“You don’t talk to him?” His brow creases. “Dude, you and I both know that if there is anyone who likes privacy, it’s me, but we are here for you, brother.”
“I know, and it’s appreciated and reciprocated.” I shut my locker and grab my duffel bag. “It’s just dumb shit. And complicated. And something I’m not really looking to dive into right now. But I promise you, Storm, you can count on me.”
He sits, still looking concerned. “And … the game tapes?”
“Can we watch them tomorrow morning? Or if you and Knox need to tonight, I’ll watch them by myself tomorrow. I swear, I’ll watch them. But tonight, there’s somewhere I need to be.”
He sighs. “Tomorrow morning is fine. We don’t have to be at the field until noon. Whatever you’re doing though, man, just be careful.”
I walk past him, bumping my fist with his. “Ten-four, brother. I will. See you in the morning.”
I hate keeping secrets from the guys. But right now, this thing between Henley and me is all so new and fragile. I’m not ready to explain it to them.
Henley
There I stand, in lane six, waiting for that first whistle. I don’t feel nervous, and I don’t feel confident. I just feel numb. I know what I need to do, and that’s to stay focused.
I know Weston is in the bleachers. I can feel his eyes on me. But I can’t look his way. He’ll send my stomach right to my ass. I don’t want to mess up in front of him.
I hear the man’s robotic voice come over the speakers. “Event one, heat one of the one hundred freestyle.”
Then, he announces the swimmers in lanes one through four, making the reality all too real that I’m about to compete in my first college swim meet.
“Lane five, swimming for Brooks University, Layla Lewis, step up. Lane six, swimming for Brooks University, Henley Hayes, step up.”
I step up onto the starting block, adjusting my goggles over my eyes. This is it. I have a lot to prove. I need to show Coach that it was the right choice to put me on this team.
“Take your mark,” the emotionless voice says again.
I get into position and await the small, obnoxious buzzer to sound. And when it does, I can’t tell you what happens next because I just do what I know. I swim.
I don’t pay attention to who could be beating me. And I barely hear all the noise, though I know it’s there. The cheering, the sheer excitement, fills this room to the rafters. I just swim as hard as I can until I reach the end and flip-turn back. It sounds easy enough, but trust me, it’s exhausting. Your lungs scream at you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire even though you’re in a cool pool. You feel every single muscle cry in agony, pissed at you for pushing them so hard. But if you’re like me, you do it anyway. Because the greatest competition is yourself.
I don’t care about everyone else’s time. I care about mine. I care about beating it and improving more and more. If someone else beats me, well, I guess they wanted it more than I did.
I’m almost back to the wall, and when I reach out and touch it, I come out of the water, ready to take a full breath.
When I look to the left, the girl in lane four touches the wall, and then comes Layla, followed by the others. I won.
I freaking won!
And I didn’t need pain to fuel me either. I didn’t zero in on the bad times and try to outrun them. I simply swam like my life depended on it. Because much like being with Weston, it often feels like it does when it comes to this sport.
I climb out, and Coach clasps my shoulder. “Good job, kid. Nice start to the event.”
I smile and pull my cap off. “Thanks, Coach. Thanks for giving me a shot.”
He nods once, giving my shoulder a final squeeze before walking away. And even though the last thing I need is a distraction, my eyes instinctively find Weston.
There he sits, wedged between our moms. He’s wearing a Brooks U shirt that hugs his arms in the most delicious way. His eyes glimmer as he watches me before he gives me a cheesy thumbs-up.
“Way to make me look bad, asshole,” Layla says, walking beside me, wiping her face with her towel before tossing it over her shoulder. “I’m regretting bugging you about swimming.”
I know she’s just teasing me. I might not have known her that long, but she doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body. She’s just a smart-ass. Besides, she did great.
“Sorry,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “Next time, I’ll slack’r back a bit.”
“I hope so.” She rolls her eyes. “Take one for the team and suck, would ya?”
“Well, seeing as we are on the same team, if I suck … it takes away from us as a team. So …”
“Whatevs.” Her eyes move to the bleachers, spotting Weston. “Weston Wade. Is here. Watching a swim meet that is no doubt going to drag ass.”
I don’t tell her that if I had a swim meet in high school, as long as he didn’t have football, he was there. Front row, usually with a damn shirt that said Hayes on the back. That’s just who he is. He’s a guy you want in your corner.
She turns halfway toward me. “I’m just going to assume you haven’t told him yet. About … his brother. And you.” She talks out of the corner of her mouth, keeping her voice low. “And the horrible, made you cry sex that you two had.”
“What would give you that idea?” I nervously chew my lip. “That I haven’t told him?”
“Because he’s here. And he’s looking all adorable and twinkly and shit,” she deadpans. “He’s freaking practically glowing.”
“I am going to.” I really am. For once, I’m not lying when those words leave my mouth. “I just want to get tomorrow’s game over with first. Then, I’ll tell him. Before things move … further along.”
“Tomorrow’s game? Why tomorrow’s game?” Her forehead creases. “Are you worried it’ll mess up his game?”
“Well … that. And he’s playing his brother’s team.” I say the last words so fast, praying she misses them. Unfortunately, I know she doesn’t when her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.
“His brother?” she whisper-yells. “As in his twin brother? Who you boned?”
“Oh my God, Layla. Who says boned? You’re gross.” I slap the back of my hand against her arm. “Yes. You’re annoying, but yes, his twin brother. He doesn’t have any other brothers. Not like it matters if they are twins or not. A brother is a brother.”
“Honey … it matters. You banged the one person on the planet who shares the same face as him. That’s weird.” She rears her head back. “And mildly disturbing. But then again, I had a massive crush on my high school gym teacher. So, I suppose I shouldn’t judge you.”
“I’m leaving now.” I start to walk away but look over my shoulder. “You’re a jerk.”
She holds her arms out. “Yet you still love me.”
“The jury is still out on that one!” I call back and make my way to where my parents and Weston
sit just as another event starts. I look at the clock. I have over a half hour until my next event.
“My girl!” my mom squeals and stands up, throwing her arms around me. Not even caring that my suit is soaking wet. “You did so good!”
She releases me, and my dad stands up next, pulling me against him. “It’s like you never left the water. You’re right back where you belong.”
“Thanks, you guys.” I turn toward Weston’s parents, who stand next, wrapping their arms around me. “And thank you all for coming up. Sorry you had to sit with this stinky guy.” I jerk my thumb toward Weston. “They’ll let anyone into these events, huh?”
He stands and pulls me against him, fully enveloping me into a hug. He smells so good that I could melt. But melting isn’t an option. I still have work to do.
“You killed it, babe,” he murmurs against my ear. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I know our parents are eyeing us, trying to figure out what the heck is happening. Probably looking for pigs to be flying through the air or thinking hell has frozen over, equipped with a damn ice-skating rink. We’re not just getting along. We’re hugging. To them, this is huge.
“Thanks for being here.” I put my hand on his side as he holds me. “I know you had to rush from practice.”
“I wish I could kiss those pouty lips right now.” He keeps his voice low enough so that no one else can hear. But the sheer grittiness laced in his words is enticing. “That swimsuit shows too much of your ass. You’re driving me mad.”
I giggle against him. My butt isn’t exactly tiny. It’s hard to find anything to cover it up fully. Looking around at some of the other girls, I’m certainly more modest than a lot of them. But I have a swimmer’s body, meaning a lot of muscle in the trunk and thick, strong legs. Unfortunately, it also means I don’t have much up top in the boob department. Luckily, Weston doesn’t seem to care.
When I see nobody is watching us, I kiss his cheek. “I have to go cheer on the others on my team. I’ll see you after.”
After this, we’re supposed to go to a late dinner with our parents. And I admit, it’ll be nice, having all of my loved ones at one table. I just wish all of Weston’s loved ones could be there too.
