Page 8 of No Going Back

I shove him off, still laughing despite myself. “Shut up, idiot.”

“Seriously, when was the last time you had some action? It’s good for the soul, bro.”

I push myself up, stretching my arms overhead, and catch Remy’s grin, he’s looking down, fiddling with the cap on his water bottle like he’s trying not to laugh.

I shrug. “It’s been… a few months, but…”

Tyler cuts me off. “Ah-ah! No buts! You’re coming to the party. I’m gonna be your wingman and find you a hot chick to bang.”

“You’re disgusting,” I mutter.

He grins wider, swinging a sweaty arm around my shoulders. “Don’t flatter me.”

I shake my head, but the idea settles in anyway. Maybe a party and a hookup wouldn’t be the worst thing. Maybe it’d reset everything back to normal.

3

Remy

I wake up with a long, lazy stretch, arms thrown over my head, back arching off the mattress until my spine pops in that satisfying way. It’s Saturday, so no alarm blaring at six a.m. for film study or conditioning. The summer sun is already slicing through the thin curtains, painting gold stripes across my sheets. Outside the dorm window, students are laughing and shouting, and someone’s blasting music from an open car window in the lot below. Typical July Saturday morning on campus.

I roll onto my side, propping myself up on one elbow to grab my phone from the bedside table. The screen lights up: 10:12a.m. Damn, I can’t remember the last time I slept in this late. It feels good, like my body finally caught up on a month of pent-up everything.

Two missed calls from Hannah stare back at me. Normally I’d be dialling her back before I even finished yawning, checking in, hearing her voice, and making sure she’s okay. Today I just… don’t. I set the phone face down on the table with a quiet sigh; I’ll deal with it later. There’s no real reason I can pin down; I just want the peace a little longer, the quiet in my head, and the space.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I’m only in boxers; it’s too damn hot in summer to sleep with anything else on. Sweat’s already beading along my hairline from the warmth trapped in the room. I run both hands down my face then push to my feet and pad out of my room.

The bathroom is my first stop. I take a long piss, flush, wash my hands under cold water, then splash my face a few times to shake off the last of sleep. I pat dry with the towel hanging on the hook and catch my reflection in the mirror. A fresh purple bruise blooms across my ribs, classic practice souvenir. I didn’t even feel it yesterday; I was running too high on adrenaline from… well… from him. From the way Cole felt wrapped around me, tight and hot; a grin tugs at my mouth before I can stop it. I clear my throat hard, shaking the memory loose like it’s something I can just flick away.

Speaking of Cole… he’s usually up by now. I step out of the bathroom and head down the short hall to his door. No noise is coming from the other side.

I knock twice. “Dude, you up?”

Nothing… no groan, no “fuck off,” no rustle of sheets. I roll my eyes. I promised I’d do the grocery shopping this week anyway, he might as well come along and pick out whatever junk he wants.

I grab the handle of Cole’s door and push it open, stepping inside with the casual confidence I had yesterday. One foot in, and the same blinding summer sunlight that woke me slams into me. The light filters through half-drawn curtains, warm and golden, catching dust motes in the air.

My eyes flick straight to him. Cole’s still out cold, sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed, one strong arm thrown over his face to block even that gentle light, the other resting low on his abs. His fingers twitch faintly, like he’s caught in the middle of some dream. My gaze betrays me and drifts lower… fuck.

He’s got a massive morning boner tenting the thin sheet that’s barely covering him. It’s totally normal, happens to every guy, and usually I’d be cracking jokes the second I saw it. But now… now I know exactly what that dick feels like in my hand, hot and heavy, pulsing while he came apart under me.

I stare for too long, unblinking. My brain short-circuits. Robotically, I step backward, pull the door shut with a soft click, and stand in the hallway like an idiot.

What the hell is wrong with you, Remy? You were chill yesterday, totally chill. Walked out laughing, kicked his leg, talked about lunch and practice like nothing happened. So why does it feel weird this morning?

I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and then I feel it, a hard twitch. I look down… my boxers are tented obscenely. My eyes go wide, and I bolt back into my own room, slamming the door and leaning against it like someone’s chasing me. I stare at the obvious bulge like it personally betrayed me.

Okay… let’s ring Hannah; that’ll fix this, ground me, remind me who I actually want. I snatch my phone off the bed, unlock it, scroll to her contact, and hit call before I can overthink it. It rings twice.

“Hey, baby!” she answers, bright and happy. “Have you only just got up? I tried calling earlier.”

I force a little laugh. “Uhh, yeah, sorry, Han. Guess I needed the lie-in for once.”

She giggles. “Well, I’ve got good news!”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

I glance down, and my dick is going soft, just… deflating. Panic spikes sharp in my chest. What the fuck? I got instantly hard for my best friend because I fucked him once, purely for release, but my girlfriend of a whole year starts talking and it’s like my body says nah, I’m out? I pray when she’s back in close proximity it won’t be a problem.