Chapter Sixteen
Some Conflicts Lead to Intoxicating Resolutions
Ender
“I’m not going anywhere.”
What the fuck? His actions vs. words have been giving me whiplash since the night at the club.
Since then, he’s sent me a few texts telling me about his day or asking about mine, and a selfie showing me the empty bed beside him with the caption, “I’d be sleeping by now if I had someone to cuddle with.
” I almost texted him back, telling him to go find his buddy from the club to keep him company, but that would’ve opened the door for conversation.
For five days, I’ve been able to ignore his attempts to get my attention, but now he has Kaden begging me to come to his house tonight.
Our teams are playing each other, and I can’t help but think Gabe planned this watch party for that reason alone—but why?
Does he think I’ll just move on like it never happened?
“Just come with us. It’ll be fun, I promise.” Kaden’s been at this for twenty minutes, but now he decides to fight dirty. His puppy eyes have always been hard to resist, and he knows it.
“You’re not my favorite person right now.”
Kaden does the little happy dance that he always does when he wins a debate where he’s trying to break me out of my shell—I pretend it annoys me more than it really does.
“He never was, and you know it.” Connor joins Kaden’s celebratory hug.
“Fine,” I grumble, “get off me so I can go get ready.”
“Let’s go find you something sexy to wear. You need to have that man on his knees begging for forgiveness.” Connor should’ve been a designer with how bad his clothing obsession has become.
As we walk down the hall to my bedroom, Kaden trails behind us. “As long as he’s on his knees for something…”
Connor’s head whips around as fast as mine. “I’ve finally rubbed off on him,” he says, beaming with pride.
I pull his hands down from his face and say, “That’s Luke rubbing off on him, not you egghead.”
Connor’s dramatic gasp fills the room. “How dare you? You promised not to call me that ever again!”
My heart swells, and I feel lighter than I have in days as the three of us stumble into my room in a fit of laughter.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Kaden spins me around to face the house again when we reach the front steps. “You’re not leaving, so stop trying to get away.”
“Still not my favorite.” Kaden’s pupils disappearing into his skull sends Connor into another fit of laughter—or maybe it was my lame attempt to escape my friends forcing me to face Gabe. Either way, I’m not impressed with them butting their noses into my love life.
The door swings open before we even make it up the couple of steps leading to the porch. “Hey,” Gabe says breathlessly. “I’m glad you came.”
Luke’s phony cough breaks the silence in the standoff between the four of us.
Gabe still hasn’t acknowledged any of our friends—his eyes never veering from mine since he opened the door. “Yeah, hello to you too, Gabe,” Connor says as he and Kaden both squeeze past him in the doorway, shaking their heads.
“It’s nice to see you, Ender.” Luke decides to save his friend, greeting me and then pulling him away from the doorway.
I consider making a run for it while no one is watching…
until Gabe looks back at me and I feel it—that pull.
It’s like two magnetic fields demanding connection, his eyes compelling me into our own little bubble once again.
Every second I’m in his orbit, the walls that have safeguarded me all these years chip away—I love and hate it simultaneously.
“Ender, beer or wine?” Kaden shouts from the kitchen when I take my seat next to Connor.
“It’s hockey, damn it. What do you think?
” I shake my head in disbelief. I’m stunned for a moment when a bottle of my favorite IPA—that you can only get from the brewery in Southend—appears in front of me.
Glancing up at Gabe as he motions to me to take it from his hand, my burning desire to feel loved battles with every ounce of hurt he’s caused.
I mentioned this beer to him once during our conversation the night we met, and he remembered.
I steady my hand as I reach for it. “Thanks.”
“Anything for you,” Gabe says when he takes a seat next to me.
Fuck my life.
Three minutes into the third period, and the Habs have scored their third goal, leading 3-0.
I’ve already eaten an entire bag of jelly beans.
They’re the only thing that keeps me from opening the floodgates holding in my anger right now.
Gabe has become downright insufferable with his gloating and its grating on my last nerve.
When their center performed an assist with a toe drag pass in the second period, I could taste the blood seeping from my tongue.
He went on for three full minutes about how incredible the center is, and how he’s known to be the best at that maneuver.
He’s also the captain of the team, so just another thing for him to gush over.
If he wasn’t leaning forward, elbows on his knees, I’m sure we would see the hard-on he has for the guy.
“Shit.” Mid-third period, and another missed shot. I’m surprised the bottle in my hand doesn’t break.
“Awwww don’t worry, Bean. Your guys will eventually score.” Gabe’s leg has remained pinned to the side of mine since the beginning of the game—no matter how many times I tried to put some distance between us—but the nudge, combined with his mocking, tips me over the edge.
“Go fuck yourself, Gabe.”
“Uh oh, someone’s a little butthurt.”
Is he really fucking taunting me right now?
“At least I’m not on my knees, drooling over some hockey player who has no idea I even exist, praying he’ll let me suck his cock.”
“Whoa! That’s a very vivid image.” He’s moved his attention from the game to me, with a quirked brow and smirk planted firmly on his face. “Have you been sitting here daydreaming about that the whole game? Or just since he scored another goal on your team?”
“You’ll be wiping that smug look off your face when you don’t make the playoffs,” I say with conviction, refusing to hold his gaze and focusing on the game instead.
Our friends pretend not to notice our bickering aside from a one-sided smile from Kaden when he quickly glances in my direction. I’ll have to remember tomorrow to add his email address to every mailing list I can find to spam the fuck out of him.
We settle back into the game, and sure enough, when Gabe leans back, he’s sporting a hard-on—my traitorous dick twitches, recalling the feeling of him inside me.
When his arm rests against mine, goosebumps bloom from the point of contact, spreading over my body like wildfire. I swear he’s doing this on purpose just to get a rise out of me.
“Do you mind?” I say to him as I scoot over even closer to Connor.
“Listen, I love you, Ender, but I don’t want you sitting on my lap. Thank you very much.” Connor nudges me back toward Gabe. The three of us are not little guys, and sitting on this side of the sectional together is kind of a tight fit.
As I slide away from Connor, Gabe lays his arm across the back of the couch behind me.
“This better?” he says, low enough for only the two of us to hear, gently sweeping his thumb over my shoulder.
The smell of lavender lingers when he pulls away from my face, reminding me of the shower I took at his place.
Just as I lean forward to avoid his caress, my team finally lands one in the net. “Yes!” I shout a little louder than necessary, turning to Connor for a high-five.
“That was one hundred percent interference! No way that goal makes it through review.” Gabe’s taunting over a valid play infuriates me even more.
“Bullshit. That was a solid rebound. Your goalie didn’t even see it coming.”
“He hasn’t let one in the net all night—you think he’d miss a shot like that? Get out of here with that nonsense.”
“How is a rebound nonsense?” Gabe laughs at my protesting.
“Do you know anything about hockey, or do you just watch it to drool over the players? I bet you love warmups, don’t you?
” Sweat begins to prickle my skin, heat radiating from my scalp to every part of my body, and my fists clench as my next words spew from my lips.
“You probably go to games early just to fog up the glass watching the players’ warmup exercises.
Do you bring your fuckboys with you, or are you too afraid to make them jealous of your obsession with some hockey team captain that still has zero clue who you are and never will? ”
The pulsing sound in my ears drowns out any other noise in the room.
“Oh wait, no. You only bring the fuckboys out when you call a guy perfect right after you fuck his brains out and then act like it never happened. Just another notch for you to carve in your bedpost, right? You must’ve been worried about meeting your quota for the month, so you’re handing out pity fucks like they’re bracelets for Swifties.
” My lungs are screaming for relief, but I can’t stop myself.
“Then you have the audacity to buy me my favorite beer as what, a bribe? Is this you trying to make me forgive you for being a total asshole? I’m not one of your little groupies, Gabe.
I may not have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I don’t need you to feel sorry for me! ”
Gabe’s eyes go wide before he raises his voice back at me.
“First of all, what you saw at the club was not what you think it was!” My resistance falters for a split second—and he notices.
“I was telling him to fuck off because he wouldn’t leave me alone.
” He takes a breath and lowers his voice.
“You’re not a groupie, and I don’t feel sorry for you, Ender.
I didn’t pity fuck you or whatever other bullshit you’ve convinced yourself of since we’ve met.
I’m head over heels for you, despite you believing you’re unlovable.
I don’t know who made you believe that shit, but I have some choice words for them. ”