Page 56 of Playing Dirty
Swallowing hard, I nod and let him go without trying to stop him again.
Of course, as soon as the front door closes behind Theo and I turn to face the music, I wish I would’ve bolted right along with him.
Torin points at the door, looking between me and it and back again. “Was that…?”
Miles—for once in his life—looks stunned speechless when he slowly murmurs, “I think it was.”
I don’t even bother responding, just flip them both the bird before heading right back down the hall to my room.
Sixteen
Madden
I’m dead tired and wishing like hell for a few more hours of sleep when my alarm sounds the following morning. It takes everything in me to pull myself from bed and dress for the day, knowing a grueling practice and two classes await me, but I do it anyway.
Only there’s something—or rather someone—else waiting for me when I leave the haven of my bedroom, which I failed to take into account until right now. Then again, it’s hard to miss Miles’s smug, shit-eating smirk when it’s aimed at me from behind his morning coffee.
“Are we gonna talk about it, or…”
I shoot him a dirty look. “It’s too early and I’m too tired to deal with your shit this morning.”
He doesn’t even have the decency of hiding his enjoyment of this when he mutters, “Yeah, it sounded like the two of you really wore eachother out.”
“Miles,” I warn, aiming another glare. “Don’t push your luck.”
Setting his mug on the counter, he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, just be happy Vaughn wasn’t here too, or you’d never be hearing the end of it.”
However valid his point may be, I doubt I will regardless. Miles may like to pretend he’s above all that, but deep down, he likes the gossip as much as Vaughn does. Maybe even more.
“I can’t stand you,” I gripe.
“As is natural for all best friends.”
“If you keep this shit up, you’re not gonna haveanyfriends.”
His laugh is instant and full of glee—far more than anyone should have before six-thirty on a Monday. “Someone’s testy this morning. Stepbro clearly didn’t dick you down well enough if that’s the case.”
Oh, that’s fuckin’ it.
I slam the cabinet closed and spin on my heel. “I said we’re not fucking talking about it, Miles. So drop it.”
To his credit, he does shut up…for about twenty seconds. Though, I think part of it was me stunning him speechless with the frustrated, irritable snappiness in my tone, because when he does find his voice, he’s the same, infuriating Miles I’ve known for years.
Regardless, it’s just enough time for me to pour a cup of coffee for myself before he speaks again.
“Damn,” he whispers, equal parts shock and awe. “He’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t he?”
Yeah, he has. And Miles doesn’t even know the half of it. If he did, he’d realize he just made the understatement of the millenia.
Theo Greyson hasn’t just gotten under my skin. He’s clawed his wayinto my psyche, burrowed himself through muscle and cartilage, sliced straight to the bone—and he’s managed this in an unthinkably short amount of time.
Then again, maybe he started carving away at me long before I even realized it.
Miles must see something in my expression, because when I glance up at him, that stupid,stupidsmirk is permanently fixed in place at this point. “Oof, Maddy Boy. The silence is deafening.”
If I wasn’t already annoyed, the use of that goddamn nickname would certainly do the trick. But combined with the truth in his words, the only thing I can do is sigh and drop onto one of the stools at the counter.
“I guess we’re doing this after all.”
