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“Hey, baby girl,” he says, looking down at me with concern on his handsome face, his curly blond hair styled without a single strand out of place. He could be Justin Timberlake’s twin brother; they look so much alike. Like the rest of the guys on the football team, he is tall and muscular, towering over me at six feet—making me feel tiny in my five-foot-five frame.
“Hey Eric.” I give him a weak smile, his expression softening further at my attempt to be a pillar of strength.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m getting there,” I sigh, not sure what else to say. This kind of betrayal hurts, and it’s not something you get over in a day or a week.
“Look,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know Logan is my bro and all, but you are one of my closest friends, and if you ever want to talk, I’m always here for you.”
Eric texted me every day last week, and I know this has been difficult for him too. Logan is one of his best friends. When Eric told us last year that he was gay, Logan was one of his biggest supporters, even throwing him a party to celebrate him finally coming out of the closet. He also made it very clear to the whole school that if anyone fucked with Eric, they would wish they had never been born. I was proud of Logan and the entire football team for the support they gave their fellow teammate. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Eric’s family. His father did not take the news very well at all.
A sudden thought comes to mind that I hadn’t thought to ask before. “How long have you known?” I peer up at him, and he visibly tenses.
An uncomfortable silence stretches between us for a moment while he contemplates his answer. Then taking a deep breath, he gives me a regretful look. “The truth is, I have been suspicious for a while, but he denied that anything was going on. It wasn’t until the night of the party when I saw him go upstairs with her that I knew for sure they were hooking up. He has been very discreet. I think he knew I would lose my shit about it, seeing as we were close.”
Nodding my head, my throat constricts as the memories of walking in on him with Hadley come flooding back. Eric takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think he is a total idiot, and I told him that.”
“Did anyone else know?” I ask, my voice starting to shake.
“Connor has known all along. He was so drunk at the party he confessed to me what had been going on after shit went down with you catching him. I’m pretty sure Grayson and Big Boy knew but have been pretty tight lipped about it.”
My resolve weakens, and tears start to stream down my face. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry at school, and I honestly didn’t think I had any tears left anyway after the last week. “Hey, it’s okay, shh.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
Burying my head into his chest, I inhale his musky male scent and feel my whole body relax as I melt into him, basking in the warmth and comfort of his brotherly embrace. He has been more of a brother to me over the years than my own brother Bryan, who is currently away at college and couldn’t care less about what’s going on in my life.
Pulling away, I wipe away my tears. “I better get to class. I have literature first up.”
Eric rubs my arms. “Will you be okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod my head. “See you at lunch?”
“Sure thing. Save me a seat?”
“Of course,” I reply. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and a wink before he walks away.
Heading to class, I feel a little lighter from the comfort I received from my dear friend.
Hopefully, my day only gets better.
ChapterThree
AVA
By the time I reach the classroom, everybody is already inside. As I reach for the door handle, a hand clamps down on my upper arm, and I spin around, my bag dropping to the floor as I come face-to-face with Logan.
“Ava,” he murmurs.
I reach down, pick up my bag, place it on my shoulder, and then look up at him. My stomach drops when I take in his appearance. His hair is a mess, and there are a few days’ worth of growth on his face. His eyes look hollow, the dark circles around them making him look like he hasn’t slept in days. I have never seen him like this, and I fight back the urge to feel concerned for his well-being.
“What do you want, Logan?”
“I-I miss you,” he murmurs painfully, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Can we talk?”
“I don’t think there is anything left for us to say,” I spit back as I look at him and remember how we got here.
“I’m a mess, baby. I can’t eat or sleep. I’m so goddamn sorry. I was an idiot…”
“I told you not to call me baby anymore,” I remind him vehemently. “You lost that privilege when you took that whore as a lover behind my back for six months.”
