Page 74 of Playing Dirty
“Wait, what?”
“Focus, T,” Phoenix chimes in from where he’s spotting me from behind the bench. “What the hell, Wy. Don’t distract him.”
“Sorry, sorry,” our captain mutters, holding his hands up.
He backs off to give me space to finish out my remaining reps, but the wordsraidandtonightring around in my head, and I’m not happy about it. Morning lifting sessions are my haven—a sanctuary for me to work out all my sexual frustrations that’ve been building over the course of this week.And I’ve needed it, especially after Madden snuck out of my room before either of us got off the other night.
Seeing him tonight was supposed to rectify that, but not if I have to go on this fucking raid over at Blackmore instead. And now Wyatt just ruined my mood for the rest of my time in the weight room on top of it.
On my last press, Phoenix helps me re-rack the bar, and I shift into a sitting position on the bench. Wyatt’s still within spitting distance, a look of excitement etched into his features when I finally meet his gaze.
“What do you mean ‘tonight’? You’re going out again?” I ask while wiping my brow with a towel.
A small group of them went over two nights ago to check a couple buildings on south campus, so I wasn’t expecting another attempt so soon after. But apparently Wyatt is determined to knock out as many hiding spots as possible before the season officially starts.
“Yeah, T. We kinda need to find the damn thing sooner than later,” he says in one of thoseget with the programtones. “I’ve got over half the team in for tonight, so we need you there.”
A sharp laugh leaves me. “I guess that means I don’t really have a choice, then, doesn’t it?”
“Glad to see you’re starting to pick up on how things work around here,’’ Wyatt says, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips now. “We’re gonna need like…six cars, I’m thinking.”
“Is this your way of telling me I’m driving too?”
He waves me off. “God, no. I was just thinking out loud. YouryellowBronco is too ostentatious for us to take, so you’ll have to ride with Merce or someone else.”
“I’ve got him,” Phoenix confirms, and when I glance his way, I find him barely containing his laughter. But whether it’s at Wyatt’s shenanigansor my attitude, I have no clue.
Wyatt claps his hands before rubbing his palms together, looking ever the evil villain concocting his master plan. There’s even a devious glint in his eyes to match before he slowly starts backing away from us.
“I’ve got a good feeling about tonight, boys. I’m off to tell the rest of the gang, but be at the training facility at ten. I’ll put it in the group chat too.”
I nod and Phoenix shoots off a salute before getting back to the rest of our lifting session. My heart isn’t in it anymore, though, knowing I have to cancel on Madden tonight after all.
It shouldn’t be a big deal—both of us are busy, have our own school work and shit to do—but I don’t like the feeling it creates in my stomach. This swirling…guilt, almost. The feeling doesn’t go away either, sticking with me long after I shower and head to class.
I spend the first half of my sports broadcasting class trying to think of a way out of going, which is insane in itself, because I love going on raids. A fact that I’m reminded of when the group chat with all my teammates starts popping off with excitement about tonight. It’s the first raid some of the freshmen have ever gone on, and it’s their enthusiasm that renews my sense of reason for the Penny Play—why we go to the lengths we do to preserve this legacy created long before we ever arrived at Leighton.
Because it’s more than just a rivalry; it’s comradery and team building too.
It’s enough for some of the contrition to dissipate, at least for a moment. But then a text from Madden comes in, smacking me upside the head with a dose of reality.
Madden: Hey, you. All set for tonight?
Shit.
I type and retype my text a few times, trying to figure out the best way to word it to not make him suspicious. The guilt rises within me all overagain, swirling in my gut like a butter churn. Only this time, it feels a lot more bittersweet, because while I still want to see Madden, I also want to be there with my team.
And there’s no way in hell I can have both.
Me: Something came up. Can’t hang tonight after all. Rain check?
All I can hope is that he’ll be somewhat understanding. It’s not like it’s been some long-standing arrangement or a…relationship. But I’d also be a liar if I said I’d be okay with this ending either.
Madden: First you leave me hard and waiting in your bedroom, and now you’re cancelling on me? Not a good look, Teddy Bear.
The tiniest bit of relief hits me at the sight of that stupid nickname, and I find myself fighting a smile while texting him back.
Me: Sorry, MadDog. Trust me, I’m not happy about it either.
