CHAPTER TWENTY-seven #16
Kentaro's stretched out on the bench press, knocking out reps like 142 kilos is child's play. Liam and Cody are off in their dumbbell showdown, both pretending not to care while blatantly trying to one-up each other. And Luke? He was buried in the power rack, grunting through squats.
Elijah's got the cable machine, focused as hell. I'm on the other side, pretending I'm just as focused, but really? I'm mostly stressing about how the hell I'm supposed to make Caroline trust me again.
We didn't make it to La Playa last night for the big "brainstorming" session—thanks to the whole Taylor situation.
She was still asleep when we left half an hour ago for team workouts, and honestly, she needed it.
Girl's been through enough. Once we're done here, I'll take her straight to Campus Safety to file the report.
So here we are, making the most of it: gym sweat, clanking metal, and my pathetic love life on full display. Not exactly the cozy beer-soaked vibe I had in mind.
And yeah, I regret it. Bad.
Because beer would've softened the blow when I started spilling my guts. Instead, I've got nothing but a dry throat and my boys grilling me like I just confessed to arson.
I told them everything. The history. The fallout. The whole Zach-and-Caroline saga in 4K, IMAX, Dolby surround sound.
And when I say everything, I mean... everything.
Yep. Even my most tightly guarded secret. My crown jewel of shame. My purity.
There it is. Out in the wild. Like some ugly baby photo your mom posts on Facebook and tags you in. I didn't want to go there, but if these guys are gonna help me pull off Mission Impossible: Win Back Caroline, then they needed the full play by play.
Liam's head snaps toward me so fast I'm surprised he doesn't pull a muscle. His jaw drops like it's about to hit the damn floor.
Cody and Luke follow right behind, both staring like I just confessed to murder. Kentaro? Still lifting, stone-cold expressionless. Elijah's back is to me, so who knows—maybe he's choking on air, maybe he's zen as ever.
"For real?" Liam blurts, eyes bugging out.
He waves a hand up and down my body, sputtering like he can't quite process it.
"You're... still... all intact?"
I snort. "Intact? What am I, a factory-sealed action figure? Still in mint condition, collector's edition, never been out of the box?"
Liam's eyes go comically wide. He throws his hands up like he's presenting me on The Price Is Right.
"Bro, you're telling me you're still shrink-wrapped? Do I need to slap a 'limited edition' sticker on your forehead?!"
Cody almost drops his dumbbell from laughing, Luke's wheezing like he just lost oxygen.
I flip them off.
Liam's still shaking his head, disbelief plastered across his face. "Wait—so what about the time you supposedly hooked up with two girls in the athletic lounge—total myth?"
I shake my head, still pulling the cable machine. "Never happened."
Cody leans forward, eyes gleaming. "Okay, fine. But what about the story that you were banned from the library last year for... uh... hooking up in the stacks?"
I gape at him. "What?! No! That was Dustin! Why am I taking the heat for Dustin's horn-dog habits?"
Luke squints at me, lips twitching. "What about that time you supposedly hooked up with the girl from Marketing in the penalty box after practice? Whole campus swore it was true."
I shake my head again.
Liam whistles low, leaning back like he's solving some crime. "So you're saying every single rumor about you being the Westbrook Casanova..."
"...all the rumors about my reputation are nothing but lies," I confirm.
Then I chuckle, tossing the cable back with a snap.
"And hey, you can't pin all of this on me.
Half those stories weren't mine to begin with—they were cooked up by the same girls I was supposedly 'hooking up' with.
They sold my so-called performance like it was pay-per-view, and everyone else just ate it up. "
Liam frowns, tilting his head. "Okay, but... what about Taylor? I really thought you two were, like... serious."
"Yeah, man," Luke chimes in, brows up. "I could've sworn you two were going at it every night. Whole house thought that."
I shake my head. "Nah. Taylor was the same deal as the others—except we made it exclusive.
More of a business arrangement than anything else.
She used me to keep her psycho ex at a distance—guy couldn't handle their breakup.
Figured if he thought she had a boyfriend, he'd finally back off.
And let's be real—me looking like a bigger, scarier version of him didn't hurt her case. "
Their jaws are still hanging, so I push on. "And before you ask—no. Nothing happened. Never more than kissing or the occasional public flirting to sell the act."
I keep going. "Also, Taylor only ever came around the Pond when we were throwing parties, 'cause when she was there, the other girls backed off. Made it look legit without us having to actually... you know."
Cody groans, clutching his chest like I just stabbed him. "I feel cheated on! Man... I don't even know how to process this. I feel... betrayed."
I arch a brow. "Betrayed?"
"Yeah," he says, shaking his head dramatically. "I always looked up to you, not just for what you do on the ice but for, you know..." he gestures up and down at me, "...your legendary off-ice stats. The Westbrook Highlight Reel. The dude who supposedly turned every hookup into a masterclass."
Luke snorts. "Supposedly being the key word."
"Exactly," Cody goes on, nodding like he's uncovering the conspiracy of the century. "Turns out my hero's a fraud. Walking around like he's the second coming of Casanova when in reality he's pure as the Virgin Mary. Hell, Saint Zach of Ridgewater — patron saint of blue balls."
The guys snicker, and I groan, dragging a hand down my face.
Great. I'm never living this down.
Then Kentaro pushes off the bench, grabbing his water bottle. He takes a swig, side-eyes me as he squirts the rest over his face, and smirks — wickedly.
"That explains why you're always skating like you've got a rocket up your ass. All that pent-up energy's gotta go somewhere."
The room goes dead quiet for half a beat.
Then it explodes. Elijah actually has to drop the cable handles before he rips something, Liam nearly falls off the bench laughing, and Cody's on the floor wheezing.
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. "That's a low blow, man."
Kentaro just shrugs, smirk still glued in place.
I shake my head. "Alright, enough about my sex life — or my complete lack of one. That's not what we're here for. You idiots are supposed to help me get my girl."
They're still snickering, Liam wiping tears from his eyes like he just witnessed the roast of the century.
Luke finally chimes in, smirking. "Wait—does your girl even know you're still... you know... 'untouched'?" He laughs again. "Have you told her all those hookups were fake?"
"Yep," I say, nodding once. "Told her last week. But I don't think she bought it. Hell, I don't even think she believes I was in love with her back then—let alone that I still am."
"You can't really blame her," Elijah cuts in, calm as ever. "She spent years watching you bounce around with different girls, looking like you were living the playboy dream. That version of you's still stuck in her head, I bet. One talk doesn't erase all that."
"Trust me, I know." My voice dips, the weight settling in.
I huff out a laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. "I screwed up. Made her doubt me, doubt herself—and I've got a hell of a lot to fix. Whatever it takes, I'll prove to her that I only ever have eyes for her. That she's it. The only one I wanna be with."
I look at each of them. "So... any suggestions?"
Elijah wipes sweat off his forehead, then looks at me dead-on. "Well, for starters? You gotta cut off whatever deal you've got with Taylor. You can't chase Caroline while people think you're still with her. Makes it look like Caroline's the side piece. And that's the last thing you want."
"Obviously," I cut in fast, maybe too fast. "That's the first thing I'm gonna do actually."
My head flashes back to Caroline's face yesterday—how hurt she looked, even if she tried to play it cool. That image has been stuck on repeat ever since. If I want even the slightest chance with her, I've got to make it crystal clear: me and Taylor are nothing. Period.
Elijah gives me a slow, approving nod. "Good. Step one sorted."
"Step two..." Cody jumps in, grinning like he's got gold. "Public declaration of love."
The room collectively groans.
Liam's head flops back against the bench and makes a fake gagging sound, clutching his throat like Cody's idea is physically choking him.
Luke actually mimes sticking a finger down his throat.
Elijah pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters, "Oh, for God's sake."
Meanwhile, I'm perking up. "Actually... I kinda like that. Go on, tell me more."
Cody leans in, smirk all devious. "Okay, picture this: you go big—something so over-the-top no one can ignore it. Every bunny on campus instantly knows you're off the market, and it doubles as you staking your claim on Caroline."
Then he sits back with this slow, self-satisfied nod, clearly proud of himself. "And the cherry on top? Any dude even thinking of shooting his shot is gonna nope right out. 'Cause who the hell wants to compete with Zach Westbrook? That's basically social suicide."
And damn it—I actually like the sound of that. A lot.
All I can picture is Adam and his leech of an arm draped over my girl's shoulders like he had any right. My jaw tightens just thinking about it.
Still not over it, apparently. Probably never will be.
Public declaration? Yeah, sign me the hell up.
If it keeps Adam—or anyone else—five feet away from her, I'll rent a damn megaphone and start handing out flyers.