It was annoying that was easier said than done.
“You seem distracted, that’s all,” Lane said. He leaned against the edge of the table, and because he was such a shit stirrer—an aspect of his personality Nate typically enjoyed because Lane tended to use it against other people and not Nate—he added, “I saw Ramsey out there, by the bar.”
“If you’re gonna fuck him, make sure you wrap your dick,” Nate said flatly.
Lane’s eyes lit up and Nate realized he’d made a tactical error.
“Youdowant him,” Lane insisted.
“I don’t.” But Nate didn’t think that sounded convincing even to himself. Deciding that Lane had started it, he had no qualms about turning the tables. “And neither do you.”
“Come on, the guy’s insanely hot,” Lane argued, but it was weak, too.
They both knew who Lane really wanted and who Lane was trying very hard not to touch.
Maybe it was mean to actually bring it up, but Lane had gone there first.
“I’m not blind, dude,” Nate said, more gently this time.
“It’s not . . .we’re not . . .” Lane trailed off. Looked away, like he was afraid his expression would give him away.
“But you haven’t hooked up in two months,” Nate said.
“Neither have you,” Lane argued.
“Yeah, because I’m done with hookups.” He was especially done after his last one—the night he’d spent with Ramsey—had gone so sideways. “I told you that last month.”
“Yeah you said it, but then he’s out there being all hot and enticing,” Lane said, gesturing towards the main bar.
Nate raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was talking about Ramsey or if his friend was actually admitting to having the hots for his stepbrother.
“I’m done fucking around,” Nate said with finality.
“Even if it’s with the super hot hockey player?” Lane questioned.
“Especially then,” Nate grumbled. “He’s trouble. You know it. Which is probably why you keep trying to push him at me. So you can live vicariously through whatever happens.”
Lane rubbed his hands together, smiling now. “Well,yeah. I’d want all the details.”
And this was why Nate hadn’t told him—or anybody—that he’d already slept with the guy. Lanewouldwant all the details. He’d want the good gossip. Everyone would. And Nate didn’t feel like sharing, even though it would make sense if he wanted to parse his hookup with Ramsey down to some easily digestible, meaningless soundbites.
“He’s so hot, he’d probably be shit in bed. Thinks all he has to do is lie back and look pretty.”
Nate would be having a much easier time if that had turned out to be true, but he didn’t want Lane getting any big ideas and deciding that he was going to go for it, his hangup on Trevor be damned.
But Lane only looked unconvinced. “I don’t know, man. He could be really good. Like life-ruining good.”
Nate made a face. “Stop trying to get me to change my mind.”
“I’m not. Really, I’m not.” Lane attempted an innocent look, which was not very successful.
“Hey, look who I found.” Trevor walked back into the room, several other players trailing behind him. One of them was Jordan Atkinson. At least that would save Nate from having to text him and figure out where he was tonight.
Atkinson was the kind of thing he needed to handle if he was going to be the sole defensive captain next year, but it was hard to not resent Sterling over him dumping the whole problem into his lap.
“Hey, guys,” Nate said, greeting Jack, Duke, and Jordan. Jack and Duke were depth guys on the defense—good guys who Nate liked, who he hoped that Jordan wouldn’t start dragging into his own crap.
“Jordo, what’s happening?” Lane asked, giving him a bro-hug.
