Page 12 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“Hey, when’s the last time you guys talked to Ethan?” Matt asks as he pulls off his gloves, flexing his fingers.
“Last night,” Logan says, pulling his gloves off and stuffing them into his bag. “Man, I miss him. Cannot wait for him to be back.”
I snort, cutting Logan a sideways glance. “Dude, you have been missing people a lot lately. Are you in your clingy ‘I need attention’ phase again?”
Logan flips me off, dragging a hand through his sweat-matted brown hair. “Just because you’ve got the emotional range of a brick doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t feel things.”
Matt jumps in, smirking. “Nah, you are definitely clingy. Remember three months ago? You practically moved into Liam’s house when he was going to leave for that Europe gig.”
“That’s called being a supportive friend,” Logan retorts, puffing out his chest like he is proud of it.
“Sure, sure,” I say, smirking. “Supportive, clingy - same thing when it’s you.”
“But then, Liam, you’d probably miss us too if we were not around for a bit, right?” Matt says with a grin.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” I deadpan, slinging my gear bag over my shoulder. “Besides, Logan’s idea of missing someone usually involves blowing up their phone and leaving a trail of emojis that make no sense.”
Logan groans, throwing his hands up. “You send one - okay, maybe five - crying face emojis, and you never live it down.”
“Five?” Matt laughs. “Try fifty. Ethan probably had to put you on mute.”
“Why is this just about me? What about Matt?” Logan fires back, quick on the draw. “He literally FaceTimes his girlfriend whenever he has a little free time. Talk about clingy.”
“That is different,” Matt defends, his cheeks coloring.
“Uh-huh,” I chime in, smirking. “And you’re totally not whipped, right?”
“Not whipped,” Matt insists, but his defensive tone only fuels our laughter.
“You both need girlfriends,” he mutters, making us burst out laughing.
The teasing continues until we step into the bathroom, a sprawling space lined with twenty-four stalls, half of them already occupied judging by the muffled sounds of running water and occasional voices, and the familiar hum of flickering fluorescent lights. The air carries that faint mixture of chlorine and soap.
Logan grabs a towel from the rack by the entrance, slinging it over his shoulder as he steps toward an empty stall. I take the one beside him, with Matt a couple over.
As I turn the faucet, chilly water hits my hands, and the icy shock is a welcoming feeling. I am halfway through washing my hair when Logan starts talking again.
“Dude, how are your parents? They finalize the divorce yet?” He says casually, but there’s a weight to his tone.
The room seems to shrink around me for a moment, the noise of the guys fading into the background. I rinse the shampoo from my hair, buying myself a second to respond. “Dad’s ready to finalize it,” I say, my voice flat. “Mom’s the one who’s dragging her feet.”
“Do you want them to stay together?”
I shrug. “It’s not my concern what they do with their lives or their relationship.”
“But if you had to pick?”
I exhale, turning off the faucet and reaching for my towel. “I wish they would just get it over with. It has been over for a long time. The relationship, the marriage…, it is all done. Dragging it out like this…,” I trail off, shaking my head. “It is pointless. Dad’s already halfway out the door. Mum’s just… It is like watching a slow car crash, and honestly? I am done watching.”
Logan lowers his voice as he leaves the shower stall. “You think your mom’s scared to let go?”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” I say, wrapping the towel around me and following Logan to the lockers to get dressed. “You know how she is. Always finding ways to make things difficult for everyone around her.”
Logan exhales deeply, nodding. “That’s rough, man.”
I shrug. “It is what it is. Not my problem, really. Their marriage, their mess.”
He studies me for a moment like he wants to say more, but Matt bursts out of a stall, cutting through the tension.
