Rhys — Past
A couple of months go by and Marcus waits for me at my car after every single practice. At first I thought it was coincidence. Then I thought it was the captain thing — making sure the newbie felt included, doing his due diligence. Then after about the eleventh time in a row I stopped making excuses for it and just let myself think maybe. Just maybe.
Because Marcus made everything better.
After that first lunch the team started warming up. I got included in more plays, got invited into more conversations, got nods in the hallway that hadn't existed before.
The ice was thawing.
But that wasn't even the main thing.
The main thing was that I had become the sole object of Marcus Hale's attention. And I wanted it the way you want something you know is probably going to wreck you — completely, immediately, straight into the vein and into my bloodstream.
Every practice, every film session, every team dinner — I could feel his eyes on me. Searing. Any time I looked over he was already looking back, and he never looked away when he got caught. Just held my gaze and smiled. Like he wanted me to know.
Then he started bringing me coffee in the mornings. Then he started asking me to eat with him after every practice like it was just what we did now. After the millionth hangout I wasgoing insane trying to figure out what this actually was.
Why hadn't he made a move?
Months of texting all day, finding reasons to be wherever I was, looking at me like that — and nothing. It was confusing as fuck. I wasn't going to risk it. This was the only happiness I had at Eldridge, the only thing that made it feel survivable, and I was not going to be the one to blow it up. If Marcus wanted to be best friends I could learn to want that too.
I could probably learn to want that.
If not, he would have to make the move.
I was lying on my bed working through this exact crisis when my phone buzzed.
Marcus:
wanna come over? I have Chinese food
He'd never invited me to his place before. I knew exactly where it was and how to get there — not in a creepy way, just in a I've thought about it more than once way — and I stared at the message for four seconds before typing back.
Rhys:
be there in 30
I took an everything shower. Just in case. Like a girl going to her first Jonas Brothers concert. Then I made the walk over, took a breath outside his door, and knocked twice. It opened immediately. Like he'd been waiting right on the other side, just as excited.
"Rhys." He pulled me in and closed the door behind me, already crowding the space, coming closer. "I'm so glad you're here." He reached into his pocket and produced a single shooter of tequila, pressing it into my hand with great ceremony. "I have something for you."
"Tequila."
"Our best friend."
"The old trio." I looked around. "Where's the Chinese food?"
He had the decency to look slightly guilty.
"I ate it all. You took so long."
"I was here in thirty minutes like I said—"
"It felt really long." He grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the couch, pushing me onto one side before dropping onto the other. Close. Closer than the couch required. I caught the smell then. Already in the air before the shooter.
"Marcus. Have you been drinking?"
He brought one finger to his lips. Then to mine.
