Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Yeah, you have.” He looked momentarily sorry until he clenched his jaw. “But now you’ll be consorting with the enemy.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe the enemy needs a shoulder to lean on too?”
His eyebrows knitted together. “That makes no sense.”
I almost laughed. He did sometimes have trouble with abstract concepts. “Sure it does. Even supervillains have an arc. Well, some of them.”
“Only in books and movies.” He slid beneath his covers. “And you claim I romanticize everything.”
I snickered. “Maybe that’s what keeps our friendship going. We eventually meet in the middle. Otherwise, I’m tempted to push you off a tall cliff half the time.”
He stuck his tongue out. “Nice, really nice.”
“Thing is, we’re not kids anymore, even though we still act like it sometimes.” I rolled to my side. “Your brother has a different perspective than you about what happened between your parents. Maybe treating him like a nemesis is not the way to go.”
“Ugh, I see he’s got you charmed. Like he did when we were kids.”
“I was a gay kid whose best friend’s brother was an older brooding artist—still is, actually.” I chuckled uncomfortably, skating a little too close to the truth. “No way I could help my crushes when I was only trying to figure things out.”
“It wasn’t only you.” He sighed. “He was always the cool one in the family—at least everyone else thought so. I hated following behind him everywhere.”
“Oh, okay, star swimmer and apple of his father’s eye. You’re ridiculous.” When I tossed a balled-up shirt in his direction, he swore under his breath and lobbed it back. “Good night, Bailey.”
But even after we cut the lights, I could still smell Remy’s come on me, so I waited until Bailey was snoring softly before getting out of bed to sneak a quick shower, reliving the experience as remnants of come washed down the drain.
The following morning, we went through our usual routine of practice and classes and then met for lunch. While Bailey went for seconds, I fished my cell from my pocket to find a message from Remy that he must’ve sent while I was walking to the dining hall with Jordan.
All okay? he asked, referencing what had transpired after Bailey busted in on us. Luckily, after we’d cleaned up. Though part of me wondered what would’ve happened had Bailey come in earlier.
I again considered what Remy said about telling him the truth. What was the worst that could happen? Given that we lived in a small room and did practically everything together, he could definitely make my life miserable. No doubt, I’d be getting the silent treatment. The question was whether I could handle it.
But for what? A few hookups with his brother? Ugh, this situation seemed impossible. Too bad I only wanted more of Remy. And he certainly didn’t make it easy. That nipple play had blown my mind. Thankfully, they were only sore this morning and not red, or I’d be hearing about it from Bailey and the team. Last month, they’d teased Dave mercilessly about a hickey on his neck. Any marks on me certainly could’ve given us away.
All good, Ted. Don’t sweat it.
“Who’s Ted?” Bailey asked over my shoulder as he sat down with a plate of fries, and I nearly dropped my phone.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
The team was looking at me, some of them amused.
“Just someone from class,” I muttered, sliding my cell back into my pocket.
“What class?” he persisted. Fucking hell.
“Lab. We have a group project coming up.” I stood and grabbed my bag. “Gonna head to class. Want me to wait?”
“Nah, catch you later.”
Another bullet dodged.
Coach drove us hard at our afternoon swim practice and was already prepping us for the big conference in the spring, which didn’t surprise me. It had been the same in high school and what we’d all worked toward—being the top swimmers in the prelims that would push us toward the finals. The seniors especially were gunning for it since it would be their last time to shine. Andrew was already showing up to practice wearing extra swim briefs to help him overcome drag time in the pool, and Carter was hyper-focused on beating his lead time with extra laps.
“I’m exhausted,” Bailey said as we shuffled out of the aquatics facility.
“Same. Food will help.”
“Dad!” Bailey suddenly shouted. My head whipped toward the parking lot, where Mr. Duval had just finished talking to Coach. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the area and had a little free time.” He grinned. “Thought I’d see my son.”
I noted how he only mentioned one son and couldn’t help frowning.
“Awesome,” Bailey replied, whose mood had suddenly brightened.
“Hi, Mr. Duval,” I said as he approached and patted our shoulders.
“Coach says you’re working hard and performing well,” Mr. Duval said to Bailey. “How about classes?”