Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Reed

Okay, here's the thing.

Last night was an aberration.

Today, this, now—is what's real. The smell of chlorine. The cool clasp of the water. The shout as the ball flies toward me.

I stretch, my arm reaching above my head, my shoulder feeling like it's about to tear out of my socket, using every millimeter of my height to snag it out of the air. I just graze the rubber, rough against my fingertips, the ball flipping up, and then somehow, I manage to grab it, sinking back into the water with the ball palmed in my hand, treading hard. I turn, and an elbow comes toward my face.

It slams against the padded ear of my cap, hard against the plug in my ear. Lights flicker, my vision waivers.

Fucking Archer, all out into me, even during a pickup game. That's what he does. The guy has no off switch in the water. Although, honestly, not many of us do once we're dropped in the pool. I'd rather go hard than go home.

I shove a foot into his thigh, pushing him off and avoiding the second swing of his arm.

There's a shout from my left, from point. Colin extends his hand for the pass.

Troy's yelling for us to regroup as movement catches me from the left. This freshman who's never joined us before, Maverick Silas, sweeps in, my shins lighting with his kicks. I shove him to the side, chlorine filling in my mouth as I keep the ball raised out of the water, elbow bending so he can't reach it. I've got a few inches on him.

Not Archer, though, who's double teaming me. A dull thrum swells in my head from that hit to the ear he gave me earlier, a dizziness that I blink away.

I feint a throw toward center, and it fakes out the freshman for a split second, but it doesn't fool Archer. He grabs onto me, yanking hard.

It's technically illegal contact, but there aren't any refs out here during a pickup game, and I've been just as rough, probably earlier in this game, actually.

I scramble, kicking hard, shoving Archer back with a hand while I look for that pass to Colin. There's no way I can get a solid shot on goal like this.

Archer yanks down on my arm, the ball nearly touching the water, which with our rules, would be a foul against me. I kick him hard in the thigh, halfway pushing off, getting enough out of the water to take the throw, angling the ball to get around that freshman. It skims across the water and then bounces back up to Colin.

Archer curses, and he should be cursing, because Colin snags the pass, and in one fluid motion, he turns—using the cover of the freshman who probably can't figure out what just happened—and nails a shot at goal, right past Harrison.

It's a beautiful goal.

" Fuck ." Archer's hand slaps the water. We're breathing hard. Both are no doubt bruised and banged up from that struggle. Both glaring at each other from beneath our caps.

And then he laughs.

We both laugh. Sputtering out water, our faces red, arms and legs burning.

He slaps me on the back, and I reach out to give him a hug, our legs kicking around each other in the water.

"Nice pass, Chambers." Archer says in my ear. "Thought I had you."

"Thought you did too."

He moves away, still grinning as Colin palms my head. We celebrate our goal as the other guys swim in, jumping into a polo style dogpile.

I fucking love it. Being out here with these guys. Going hard, right into each other, and not stopping until we see who comes out on top.

What Lennox doesn't understand about me?

I love this game.

There's never been any question about that.

Harrison yodels from the showers. I'm not sure what he's going on about, but laughter erupts, and then Saif bolts out, his feet sliding on the tile. He's completely naked, warm brown skin wet, water flinging off his hair, dick swinging.

" Motherfucker ," he shouts, but he's laughing through his words. "That was gross, dude."

More laughter from the showers ensues. I can't see what's happening, but Saif keeps his distance outside the showers, then ducks to the right to avoid a suit that's flung at him. He bends down to pick it up, everything hanging out, still laughing, and then he wrings it out.

Colin glances over from the locker next to mine, ice-blue eyes rolling. "I do not want to know," he says under his breath. "Way too early in the day for this shit."

"Feeling pretty early for anything." I drag a towel over the back of my shoulders, still tasting chlorine on my lips. Water drips from the tips of my hair, so I scrub the towel over my head, then down across my stomach to dry my balls.

I'm naked too.

That's normal in here.

And it's normal now.

If I was feeling something for guys, wouldn't I have noticed it before now?

Colin drops his towel on the bench, then reaches in his bag and pulls out a pair of briefs before tugging them on while trying to negotiate his wet skin. "You must have gotten home late last night. I didn't hear you come in."

"Yeah, it was an interesting night."

His brows rise. "Anything you'd like to share?"

I hesitate. "I'm not really sure how to put anything into words." Unlike with Archer, I've got a pretty solid friendship with Colin. He's probably the most serious of all the guys. He came to BU on a full scholarship, and he takes it seriously. He's in his last year there, somehow managing to hold down the captain position on the polo team, negotiate nearly a perfect GPA in finance, and still play the occasional pickup games with the rest of us. "We went to a diner, and then a haunted house to film a horror movie, and then urgent care because a couple of people got hurt, and then…"

Colin nods. He always gives me space to speak.

"I just ended up at this house where the girl I'm seeing lives," I say.

And then Lennox's room .

I toss my towel on the bench and then dig into my duffle. I pull out the same kind of briefs as Colin, tug them on over my wet skin, and adjust my balls in the pouch. He watches me—not my progress getting dressed—but my face.

"This is the girl we met a couple of weeks ago? At that Sigma Chi party?"

"Yep." I pull out a pair of sweats. Had Lennox been at that party?

I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered him, especially if he'd struck me anything like he did last night.

Or maybe… he was, but he didn't strike me then for some reason?

Maybe it was just some weird convergence last night. Some strange combination of adrenaline and trepidation from walking down that hallway.

Because everything feels entirely normal today. That game earlier, I played my heart out. Now, everything is as usual as Saif chucks his suit back into the shower and a round of curses breaks out. And that little session last night, where I fisted myself while half-dreaming, thinking of a guy , my date's roommate and friend, that could happen to anyone. Right?

It doesn't mean I've fallen off course with the guy I'm supposed to be. I mean, hell, maybe Colin's jacked off to a dude before. Maybe they all have. You know what? I'll change that too ‘ probably' .

Colin's probably jacked off to a guy before, too.

I side-eye him, vaguely wondering just how many times he has, as I step into my sweats. It's a newer pair, so the inside is still rough, not softened by countless washes, and it scrapes against my bruised shins, reminding me of exactly how many kicks I took in the pool today. I roll back my shoulders as I stand, adjusting the elastic around my waist and trying not to think about those hours spent half in that dream-land last night.

I clear my throat, feeling the response from my dick, and focus on digging my phone out of my duffle.

I pause when I see my messages.

Indy: Randy's @ 9 if you want to go tonight! I hope you do!

And then she closed it off with a winky-face emoji.

Heat rises over the back of my neck. Maybe jacking off to a guy is normal, but one who's friends with the girl you're seeing?

I'm such a fucking dick .

I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching my nose with my free hand.

"You okay?" Colin's hand falls on my shoulder. "That elbow from Archer was pretty rough."

"Nah, that's nothing."

I'm a dick. I'm a dick. I'm a dick.

I deserved that elbow to the head. I mean, it's not like Indy and I have any official established relationship.

I look down at her text again. And I want to go. Because I like being around her. And that filming was unlike anything else I've ever done.

And because… fuck… because I want to see him .