“You can’t tell—“
Seeing the panicked look on my face, Deacon reaches out, resting his hand on my knee before giving it a comforting squeeze.
“Relax.” He says. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I won’t tell anyone that you’renotfucking Price.” He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and shrugs. “Gossip isn’t my thing. And I don’t fuck over my friends”
He withdraws his touch, but despite his reassurance, alarm bells go off in my ears. Aaron cannot find out. Not from Deacon or anyone else. He’d confront Dominique about it if anyone so much as suggested we were involved with one another and while we agreed Aaron could never find out, I doubt Dom would lie to his face if he asked him directly.
Which means everything would be ruined.
“Because there’s nothing to tell, right?” Please, sayright. Agree with me and we can drop this entire thing. I won’t even ask why you’re my friend anymore.
Deacon ignores the silent plea in my gaze and shakes his head. “No. There is something to tell.”
My eyes widen and my heart plummets to my feet.
“You and Price are screwing. Whether you admit to it or not is your problem, not mine. But only a blind person would miss the sexual tension between you two. Both of you are obvious as shit. But it’s like I said. I don’t do gossip. Your business is your own. And I don’t fuck over my friends.”
My breaths come fast, panic clawing up my throat and rendering me mute.
“You can relax.” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “I only brought it up because I need to know how a girl like you winds up with a guy like him. I never took you for the type to be okay with being some jock’s dirty little secret.”
EIGHT
DOMINIQUE
The need to blow off some steam after seeing Kasey with Deacon damn near overwhelms me. Making the logical choice, I head for the gym. It’s that or punch that fucker in the face, which will earn me a suspension in next week’s game at best. I wouldn’t put it past the fucker to rat me out. I’m surprised he still hasn’t for the shit I put him through during practice. Regardless, resorting to violence is out of the question, no matter how appealing it sounds. So, the gym it is.
There’s a large one on campus with state-of-the-art machines and equipment, but like most of the team, I prefer making use of the smaller one situated on the edge of campus. It’s reserved for athletes, so I’m less likely to be bothered. Or at least, that’s what I thought. But as soon as I step inside, I catch sight of Roman Valdez as he sits up at the incline bench.
Wiping the sweat from his face, he looks up and his dark brown eyes meet mine. Mouth pressed into a tight line, Roman gives me a look of concern.Shit.Coming here was a mistake.
“Hey man. Everything good?”
No way am I that fucking obvious.
With a grunt in response, I ignore his question and head for the free weights to pick up a set of dumbbells.
“Coach will have your ass if you fuck your shoulder up more than it already is,” Roman warns, having followed me.
“I’m taking it easy,” I grit out, not bothering to count my reps. This end of the gym is covered in wall to wall mirrors, so keeping my eyes trained forward, I track Roman as he grabs his own set of weights before taking up position beside me. Knew I couldn’t get rid of him that easily.
We settle into a routine, neither of us talking as we work through our set. When my biceps begin to burn, I change things up, shifting my position. Bending at my knees, I hunch forward, careful to keep my back straight as I start up a set of tricep extensions that light the backs of my arms on fire, but this is a good kind of pain.
Roman does a few more curls before matching my stance and following my workout. He keeps his mouth closed, but knowing the broody fucker, the silence between us won’t last.
After tricep curls, I move into lateral raises, gritting my teeth when my shoulder screams at me to stop. Fuck. This might be too much. I fight through the pain, ignoring the sweat dripping down my brow. I’m only five reps in when Roman drops his weight to the ground with a muttered curse.
With a furious glint in his eyes, he steps in front of me, arms folded and eyes narrowed as he stares down his nose at me.
“What the hell, man?” I ignore him and continue with my set. Only a few seconds pass before he curses again and makes to grab the dumbbells from my hands. Not putting up a fight, I let him have them and he drops them at our feet.
The weights hit the mat with a loud thud. I lift my gaze, meeting Roman’s glare with one of my own.
“Do you mind?” I grind out.
His nostrils flare. “Yeah,cabrón. I mind. We have a game against PacNorth in less than two weeks and we need you if we’re going to win.”
Working my jaw, I lean forward to grab my weights, but Roman’s hands on my chest shove me back.
