Page 52 of Full Tilt
Permission granted. Pull a hammy. Be dramatic.
Ferris:
Wow. The moral compass in this chat is so broken.
Cosmo:
That’s on my brothers. They’re the worst influences.
Cosmo:
One of them sent me a video of a raccoon stealing a bottle of whiskey this morning. So like… maybe he’s improving?
My lips twitch. It’s a dumb throwaway line, but something about it punches me right in the chest.
Oneof them. That could be Brent.
I’ve read Cosmo’s name in this chat a hundred times. Shared GIFs. Advice. Late-night rants. I’ve probably sent him stupid voice notes after away matches. I’ve even talked to him in the flesh.
And now I’ve kissed his brother senseless. Touched him everywhere. Let him touch me back.
The guilt shouldn’t be this sharp. I didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did Brent. But it still feels like I’m holding a secret in both hands and wondering when it’ll spill.
I exhale, let the phone drop to the bed beside me, and scrub a hand over my face.
The flat smells faintly like Brent’s skin, my muscles ache in the best way, and if I close my eyes, I can still feel the way hisfingers traced every inch of me last night like he was memorising a map.
And yet… here I am. Spiralling.
I’m so good at that.
My phone buzzes.
Brent: Your full English is incoming. Hope you’re a beans guy, because I wasn’t sure if that’s a universal thing or a weird British rite of passage.
My heart jumps as I type back.
Me: Beans are good. But if you forgot the hash browns, I’ll never forgive you.
His reply is instant.
Brent: You wound me. I’d never forget the hash browns.
And just like that, some of the weight in my chest lifts. Just a little.
I head to the kitchen to make a cuppa and Brent a coffee. His attempt at hiding his dislike for tea yesterday was pretty weak. The thought makes me smile that he drank it anyway.
The group chat dings again, the screen lighting up with a string of new messages from the Love the Game group. I tap it open, half distracted, until I see who it’s from.
Cosmo:
Camden! You’ve been lurking—status says you’re online. Don’t think we don’t see you.
Cosmo:
Where do you live again?
Before I can type a response, Connor jumps in.
