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I swear his cheeks pinkened a little. “I guess? But I have like four pairs.”
“I should have known,” I said. He hardly ever went without them unless he was in the pool.
“They will block out a lot of the noise, aka Coach,” he mused, then gestured to his head. “Saw you grimace back there.”
I was oddly touched, the kind gesture something I wasn’t really used to from people besides Win and Max. Sure, I’d become pretty tight with Ryan and Jamie and the girls, but sometimes even that still surprised me. “Seriously?”
He made a sound. “It’s just Airpods, bro.”
“No, it isn’t,” I said before I could stop myself.
Prism paused, tilting his head to the side. “You did something for me, so I wanted to do something for you.”
I was not expecting that answer, but before I could ask him what he meant, Coach was blowing that damn whistle. One of these days, he was going to bust a vein.
“Prism! You’re gonna sleep in this pool tonight!”
He winced, shoved the pods into my palm, and then headed for the pool.
“Sinclair, sit!” Coach commanded.
What the hell did he think I was, a dog?
I sat anyway, glancing down at the Airpods. I couldn’t connect them to a phone I didn’t have, but I figured just wearing them would buffer some of that death whistle. I glanced up to the pool, looking for Prism, but a body lowering beside me took my attention.
“Well, well, look who we have here.” Just the arrogance in his voice made my upper lip curl.
I stiffened, the muscles in my neck tightening uncomfortably. “Fuck off, Rinkin.”
“So hey, I was wondering. Did that bump on your head knock you back straight?”
The muscles in my jaw ground tight. Exhaling, I turned my head to lock the full weight of my stare on this douchebag.
Whatever he saw there made a flicker of unease pass over his dickhead face. “Considering there’s a giant pussy sitting right in front of me and it literally makes me want to hurl, I think it’s safe to say I’m still gay.”
Anger cracked through his gaze like lightning, but I held his stare.
He was the first to break eye contact, flinging a yell over his shoulder to the Elite sitting around. “He’s still gay.”
Pushing up to my feet, I turned to face the swimmers. “Yep. Still gay. So let’s hear it. Who’s got a problem?” I held out my arms, inviting the fight.
A few guys looked uncomfortable, one shifting as though he might leave. I stood there calmly, meeting every single stare that met mine.
“What the hell is going on now?” Coach barked, coming over to where we sat.
“Just having a little team meeting,” I replied.
“You aren’t the coach.” He really loved reminding people of that.
Ryan and Jamie came up behind him, swiping the caps and goggles off their heads. “What’s going on?” Ryan asked, eyes going to Rinkin.
“Just letting everyone know that little bump on my head didn’t make me straight,” I said, not looking at Rinkin.
Ryan made a sound, and Coach held up his hand, blowing the whistle for like thirty seconds straight. When he was done, all of us stood around, fingering our ears.
“What the hell, Coach?” Jamie complained.
“Now that I have everyone’s attention,” Coach said, “team meeting.”
