Page 42 of Stick It
“Just what?” she interrupts, tilting her head to one side and studying me closely. “Being a decent human being?” she muses, clearly not needing any actual input from me. “Maybe. But also, he didn’t have to. In fact, from what I’ve heard of Griffin, he doesn’t make a point of inserting himself anywhere he doesn’t want to be. And yet, hechoseto stick up for you.”
Before I can get a word in, she keeps going.
“More than that, he did it in front of the entire team. Kyle might have spouted off bullshit rumors, but the whole team also saw Griffin takeyourside. Griffin’s respected amongst all of them. If he’s got your back, that counts for something.”
I pause, letting her words sink in. She’s not wrong. Griffinisrespected amongst the team. And they all saw him take my side over Kyle’s.
I’m just not entirely sure what that means—or if it’s good or bad for me.
Shifting beside me, Wren grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns on the TV, flicking through the channels until she lands on a rom-com.
I’m only half watching, but by the time we’re halfway through it, the knot in my chest has loosened.
We end up falling asleep on the sofa, her head on my shoulder, the movie credits rolling. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel just a little less alone.
13
DYLAN
The house is eerilyquiet when I step inside the next morning. It’s so early that it’s barely light out. But I wanted to get back and grab my gym gear before anyone woke up.
There is still the faint hint of beer lingering in the air, but peeking into the kitchen, I’m surprised to find it sparkling clean. Not a single red Solo cup or spirit bottle in sight. The floors have been mopped and trash taken out like the party never happened.
If only it were that easy to clear the reminder of it from my memories.
The squeaking of a spring has my head snapping toward the living room as Ethan rises to his feet. He’s wearing the same dark jeans and pale blue shirt that brings out the color in his eyes that he had on last night. Except this morning, those eyes are dull, exhaustion clouding them of their usual light. His hair is a mess, too. Well, messier than it usually is—sticking up in every direction as though he spent the entire night running his fingers through it.
If I had to guess, I’d say he still hasn’t been to bed. Did he stay up all night cleaning?Why?
As I stand there, his gaze slowly drops over my body, sharp and thorough. My skin prickles beneath the intensity of it, but I have no idea what he’s searching for.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demands, finally lifting his gaze to my face. His voice is deeper than usual, threaded almost with…concern? No, that can’t be right. I must be misinterpreting it. It’s most likely from lack of sleep.
I blink at him, in absolutely no mood for whatever this is. I need to burn off the lingering tension from last night before starting an entirely new fight this morning. “I didn’t realize I had to run my every decision past you,” I snark, folding my arms across my chest as I stare back at him. “You’re the captain of my team, not my life.”
His nostrils flare, his jaw tightening. “You disappeared,” he says through gritted teeth. “No one knew where you were or how to contact you. Do you even realize how not okay that is?”
I rear back, shocked at being scolded like a child by someone only one year older.
“I’m not a kid, Ethan. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Dylan,” he snaps. Those gray-blue eyes blaze with a frigid fire, scalding me to the bone. “Anything could have happened to you. Do you have any idea how reckless that was? I was up all night wondering if—” He cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand down his face.
My brows hitch at his near admission. Still…
“I can take care of myself, thanks.”
“That’s not the point.” His words are a growl as he takes a step closer, face hardening. “Give me your number.”
It’s not a question. It’s a demand.
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head vehemently.
He blinks, visibly thrown. Guess he wasn’t expecting me to deny him. “Why the hell not?” He looks incredulous, like hecan’t fathom why I wouldn’t want him to have my number. Well, if he’d endured what I had, he’d understand.
“Because I don’t want anyone on the team to have my number.”
His frustration flares, his long legs eating up the distance between us. “It wouldn’t bethe team,” he growls when he’s standing directly in front of me. “It would be me.Onlyme.”
