Page 50 of Fever Dream
My chest tightens again as his gaze passes over me but doesn’t settle. It’s strange. We always seek each other out in crowded rooms but everything feels different now.
I can’t stop thinking about that guy at the bar. Is he Harrison’s type? Do guys always hit on Harrison and I just haven’t noticed?Oh shit.Andy our Pilates guy was definitely hitting on Harrison that time. I thought he was just being professionally friendly, but he was clearly trying to get in my best friend’s pants the whole time.
And, oh sweet Lord of mercy, have they been fucking this whole time? I mean, Harrison took his number. Maybe they’ve been secretly banging this whole entire time. Behind my back. And then there’s Xavier Howard. There was definitely something between them… oh my word. Did they hookup that night of the game? Is that why Harrison was weird with me the next day?
I feel sick and dizzy and hit the stop button on my treadmill just as Sonny steps into the room, eyes on me. I know that lookin his eye and even though I feel like I’m about to throw up I also know I’m never standing down from a challenge.
Sonny swaggers towards me, stripping off his shirt as he steps onto the treadmill beside me, a challenge in his eyes. I blow out a breath and shed my own shirt as I nod at him. I feel Harrison’s eyes on me, the way his gaze flickers down my naked chest and … huh. I never noticed that before. I mean, yeah I’ve noticed him look at me but I think I thought it was out of medical interest rather than anything … else.
Maybe itisjust medical interest.Fuck.
Sonny hits the start button and the two of us suddenly go full throttle to try and outpace the other. Athletes and white line fever are a real thing but throw in my personality type and it’s a whole other ball game. We settle into a rhythm, my mind clouding over and forcing out the pain that is buzzing under the surface, eyes on the prize.
“So what’s the deal with you and Harrison?” Sonny throws down without any warning. He’s hardly out of breath even though he’s running at full pace, and I feel my gut bottom out of me at his question.
“What do you mean? What deal? There’s no deal,” I stammer.
“You sure about that? Nothing happened on the Goldie?”
“No nothing happened. And what are you actually getting at here?” I’m pretty sure there’s a surge of panic in my gut too but I’m pretending as well as Sonny that it’s nothing.
“You know what I’m getting at, Calloway,” Sonny says, pinning me with a pointed look.
“But … but how do you know about Harrison?” I ask. Because how the hell does Sonny know something aboutmybest friend that I only found out two days ago?
“I know because I actually observe, Callie. With my own two eyes.”
“Really? Like what? Observe what?”
Sonny shrugs like we’re talking about nothing instead of the most important thing in the world. “I just picked up on things. Specifically how he is with … certain people. And how he looks at … certain people.” Those words hit me like a punch in the gut, clawing at me with their venom.
“Who? Who does he look at? Tell me, Sonny.” Yeah, I sound desperate, but Sonny can’t just drop something like that on me and not explain.
He sighs dramatically, swiping at a drop of sweat on his forehead. “Seriously Casey, are you that oblivious.You,idiot. He looks atyou.”
Something surges through me at Sonny’s words, a palpable whoosh of heat that nearly knocks me off my feet. My eyes instantly flick up to Harrison and his head of gorgeous curls bent towards Ben. A trickle of silvery heat climbs down my spine.
But Sonny is not done with me quite just yet. He continues. “And I don’t mean this unkindly, bro, but you give off some seriously mixed signals to him. And Harrison is a really nice guy and I feel like, well, I wasn’t kidding when I said you two act like a married couple.”
“What do you mean, mixed signals?” I rasp, my mind rapidly flickering through every single interaction I’ve ever had with Harrison. I don’t give off mixed signals. Me? How absurd.
Only thing is, the more I think about it, the more I realise it might be just slightly, ever so possibly, just a little bit true. I mean, I share a bed with the guy on the regular. I swan around naked in front of him. I watch sexy TV shows with him with my hand down my pants. We cuddle. A lot. I am weirdly possessive of him, in ways that I’m not with any other friends.
I really do give Harrison mixed signals.
Shit.
Sonny hasn’t answered as I stab at the stop button, slowing to a walk before I send him a pitiful look.
“I didn’t know. What do I do, Sonny?” I splutter, gasping down air into my rapidly constricting airways. Sonny hops off the treadmill, towelling the sweat off his shoulders as he eyes me, expression serious.
“Honestly, Callie? I reckon you’ve got two options at this point. Either fuck him already … or leave the guy alone.”
And with that little grenade thrown down to blow up my entire life, Sonny walks away with not even a backwards glance, leaving me utterly reeling. Of course, Harrison chooses that moment to look up at me and I stumble on the end of the treadmill, just managing to save myself from face planting the floor. Cheeks red, I pull myself up, feeling like a ship untethered in a storm.
“Casey? Are you alright?” I hear from beside me. Because of course he’s there. That’s what Harrison does—cares for me. Cares enough to rush over to this corner of the training room to make sure I’m okay.
And the way he’s looking at me? With hesitation and uncertainty instead of ease and affection? Well, that’s enough to have me stumbling back another step, heart in my throat.
