Page 137 of Playing Dirty
It’sMaddenhe wasn’t expecting to see.
He clears his throat and grips the strap of his backpack before stepping into the room fully. To my surprise, he doesn’t say anything or linger, just makes a bee-line to the kitchen and starts rifling through the fridge.
Madden is clearly tense from the way he quickly crosses back over to me and wraps his fingers around the duffle strap resting on my shoulder.
“Will you please let me help you?”
“Looks to me like you’ve already done plenty of that,” Phoenix calls from where he’s grabbing Gatorades from the fridge and tossing them in his backpack. “If you were so worried about winning City Rivals, maybe you should’ve worked harder in practice.”
So much for not saying anything.
A quick glance up reveals the corded tendons in Madden’s neck pulled taut, and I shoot a glare over at my roommate.
“Can we not make him feel any worse than he already does, please?” I hiss, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “Madden did nothing wrong.”
If Phoenix wants to be pissed at someone, it should be me.
Phoenix’s gaze shifts from me to Madden and back again. “Yeah. That’s my bad.”
He goes back to his task, ignoring the daggers I shoot at him, before I look back up at Madden.
“I’m sorry.”
A sad smile kicks up one corner of his mouth, and he shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m gonna let you two talk, okay?”
I shake my head and grab his arm. “You don’t have to go.”
“I’ll just wait on the porch.” He offers me another small smile before lifting my hand off him. “Text me when you’re ready for me to help you to your room.”
A somber feeling fills my stomach as I watch him go, tracking him until the door closes behind him. Once he’s gone, I glance back to Phoenix, who is still busying himself in the kitchen.
I trudge in his direction as best I can on the crutches with my duffle still slung over my shoulder, but when it comes to getting one of the island stools pulled out, it’s easier said than done. The crutches get in the way of the stool’s legs, and every movement has my duffle shifting and knocking into things. I can feel Phoenix watching me struggle for a few seconds before he lets out a sharp sigh and walks over.
“Let me help you before you hurt yourself some more.”
His fingers wrap around my duffle strap, silently taking it and dropping it to the stool beside me before he pulls out mine with ease. I slide onto it, and he grabs my crutches, leaning them against the end of the island within my reach before returning to the other side of the counter.
“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever fucking met sometimes,” he mutters, pinning me with a look that’s equally concerned and frustrated. The same one he aimed at me whenever he’d sit wordlessly in my hospital room over the past week.
The first few days at the hospital post-crash were a blur, being so hopped up on pain meds, but I do remember all of my roommates were there—even Logan, though I didn’t see him at the time. I also rememberthat they witnessed Madden and me in my bed, a sight likely causing them to draw their own conclusions in the moment.
But Holden, Cam, and Phoenix came back to see me in the later days despite what they may have thought. And we didn’t talk about Madden, even though he was in the chair beside me every time they arrived to visit. He’d step out into the hall whenever they came, but the unspoken questions lingered like an elephant in the room the entire time.
Still, they didn’t press it. And, God, I could tell Phoenix wanted to most of all.
Which is why I’m not surprised he finally cracks now that the two of us are alone.
“You could’ve told me the truth, you know,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “That day, when Hayes said he was here. You didn’t have to lie.”
I let out a long, helpless sigh and shake my head. “What was I supposed to do? SayI realized I’m bisexual and I’ve been secretly fucking my stepbrother right under all of your noses? I mean, how would you have reacted to that?”
“Probably a lot better than I did when I found out you landed yourself in the hospital after a car wreck,” he points out.
Though the accident was in no part my fault—or Madden’s for that matter—I still wince at his statement. Because I can’t imagine what it was like for them, my parents, Madden’s mom.
“I’m sorry, Phoe,” I utter, the words cracking as they leave my lips.
It’s a loaded apology, covering everything that transpired over the last few months. The lies, the sneaking around. The way they found out the truth.
