Page 53 of These Wicked Hearts

“You didn’t kick shit. You won by a point.”

“There you all are.” We see Vanessa coming closer with a shadow behind her. “It’s a madhouse in there. They kicked your ass!” she shrieks at me.

“Again, didn’t kick shit. Lost by a point. And I would have made that goal, but it hit the fucking post.”

“Oh, and also that my man is incredible.” Oli beams.

“One point, dickhead.” I shake my head.

“So, who’s up for some drinks?” Vanessa dangles her keys.

“Atlas doesn’t drink.” I turn toward his voice and look at Gage. “I mean, unless you are.”

Heat flows through my belly. “No, I’m not, but I’ll come. Tradition, right?” I smile at Oli.

He nods slightly. “Tradition.”

“Who’s riding with me, and who’s riding with Oli?”

“Sorry, baby.” Andre kisses Oli. “I’m riding with her.”

“Fine.” I look back at Gage who’s already walking toward Vanessa’s car.

“Um, I’ll ride with you,” I say to Oli. I don’t know what to do. I want to talk to Gage, but it can wait. I watch him as he looks back at me briefly.

I get into Oli’s SUV and buckle my seatbelt. He pulls onto the road, and I don’t think I’ve felt this nervous being in a car with my best friend before. “So, what’s going on with all of that. I thought he didn’t know what you did?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know he was coming. Or that he knew Vanessa.”

“When did you two meet?”

“A few weeks ago.” I remember that night on the roof, and I wish I could tell myself to turn around and not engage because ever since that night, he’s all I think about.

“What’s going on between you two?”

I shrug, watching as the city passes us by and the buildings thin out until we’re nearly in the sticks driving toward the bar.

“There’s not much going on.” We have sex. That’s it. I don’t say that, though. Never mind that I’ve never felt more alive in my life than when Gage’s hands are on me. He consumes my every thought.

“Are you okay?” Oli lowers his voice. I jolt, feeling his hand on my knee. “Talk to me.”

“I’m alright.”

“You don’t seem alright. Don’t shut down on me.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Oli. Less than a year ago I lived somewhere different with two people I was close with, and now one of them is up on the east coast and the other is on the west. I’m here on a team I fucking hate.” I shake my head. “No, that’s not fair. I don’t hate them. I hate their coach.”

“Grady?”

I nod. “He’s a fucking dick.”

“Andre said that. He’s got a reputation of being a hard-ass.”

It’s more than being a hard-ass. Our Otters coach is a hard-ass. Grady is something else altogether. “It’s just been an adjustment. I’m fine. Or I will be.” I have to be. “This thing with Grey. I can’t shake it. I’m trying, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Over the summer, during Oli and Andre’s wedding, I got really drunk at the reception because of how fucking sad I was watching Grey fall in love with someone who wasn’t me. Part of me wonders, if I’d confessed earlier, whether things could have been different. As I think it, I know that’s not true. Grey was never meant to be mine. When I was drunk and I kissed him and his boyfriend saw, I nearly fucked up everything good for him.

Then I did what I always do when I fuck things up. I ran. I talked to my agent, and the Vipers wanted a trade in exchange for Andre. I’m sure Coach Grady is regretting my signing as we speak. Not that he had any say in it.