Chapter Four
Xander
I’M ROLLING AROUND in my bed the next morning, trying to block my intrusive thoughts. I haven’t slept all night, my head has been pounding for hours on end.
It's not like I ever considered myself the smartest person in any room, but last night? Last night, I was dumb beyond belief.
What was I even thinking? I wasn't, that's the thing.
Somehow, my monkey brain decided it'd be appropriate to ask a stranger, a very male stranger, out. I’m not into men, never have been. The rejection has no business stinging as much as it does.
My phone rings next to my pillow, making my headache worse.
I glance at the screen. Blake. Good. At least I know the asshole’s alive. I let it ring out—a punishment for last night. Had Blake not disappeared, none of it would have happened.
Heck, none of it would have happened if Blake didn't drag me to that stupid club. But then I remember Blake didn't drag me—it was me who insisted on tagging along. I can’t exactly blame my friend for my own stupidity.
I sigh, clear my throat and try to force a cheerful tone as I answer the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey." Blake's voice comes from the other side. There's a pause. “How've you been?"
It doesn't take more for me to decide Blake sounds somewhat strange.
"What do you mean? You saw me yesterday.
And speaking of yesterday, where did you disappear to last night?
I've been calling you," I say, trying not to sound too accusatory.
Again, not Blake's fault. I should put it on a post-it to remember.
"Yeah, about that…." There's a pause that goes for a tad too long, but I wait. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something. I kind of started da— seeing someone."
My ears perk up and I sit up straight. Yes! Anything to get my mind off Liam. "Oh, really? That's great. Do I know her?" I wait for one, two, three beats, but Blake doesn't answer. Instead, there are some distorted, unpleasant sounds coming from the phone. My brows furrow. "Wait, where are you?"
He chuckles. "Long story. Anyway, you do know… him."
The words fail to register at first. Him? Him? How? "Oh? Oh! That's…great. When did that happen?"
"Frankly, it's new. I'm still trying to figure things out."
My mind is racing a hundred miles per minute.
Normally, I’d think nothing of it. So Blake's into dudes all of a sudden, so what?
But in the context of last night, my brain twists that information in a way that somehow involves myself and my feelings.
Get a grip. This isn't about you. "Sweet. So, who is it?”
"It's…"There's a beat of silence, and then, "You saw him last night, actually."
"Last night…" My brain tries to replay last night, and the only man I can think of is— I jump out of my bed like it's on fire. "Wait. It's not Liam, is it?"
"What?" Blake sounds confused. Shit.
"What?" I echo.
"Who's Li—"
Nooooo.
"So, who are you fucking then?" The words shoot out of me like bullets from a machine gun. I’m not about to tell Blake shit. Besides, there's nothing to tell.
"Shhhhh!" Blake hisses, and then lowers his voice. "I'm not… It's Sawyer."
I gasp, my eyes growing huge. "Sawyer? Sawyer Matthews?" It can't possibly be our Sawyer. From what I’ve seen lately, they hate each other.
Blake chuckles. "Do you know any other Sawyers?"
"I—Wow. Wow." I probably shouldn't vocalize my shock this much, but goddamnit! "I had no idea. I mean, congrats, I guess?" Blake and Sawyer. Sawyer and Blake.
I try to make sense of it, but my train of thought is brutally cut when Blake asks, "So, who's Liam?"
Enter panic mode. Say something. Say something! "Actually, I gotta go! Talk to you tomorrow?"
And before Blake can ask any more questions, I end the call.
***
THE NEXT FEW weeks are a fucking torture. I try to bury myself in books, try to work, try to keep myself occupied. But no matter how hard I try to fill my time, my brain refuses to let go.
The fact that Blake and Sawyer are now officially dating doesn't help my predicament in the slightest. Every few days they invite me to the fucking club, and every few days I have to come up with a new excuse.
I'm sitting in my chair on another Friday night, trying to bury myself in work and failing miserably. I sigh and run my hand through my hair. What the fuck has happened to me that night?
How is it that a single encounter can wreck my entire sense of self, leaving me questioning my entire life?
And the worst part is, I don't even know what it is that bothers me so much.
So I was temporarily interested in a guy, so what? If Blake can do it, why can't I?
It's also hardly the first time I got rejected. That can't be it, either.
My phone buzzes on my desk, the screen lighting up, Blake's face appearing. I sigh and reject the call. I don't have it in me to lie to him again, and I sure as hell can't tag along to Skin on Skin where Liam's guarding the door.
His massive frame and sharp, stubble-covered jaw flash in my mind and a jolt of electricity shoots straight to my balls.
Yeah. That. That's what's bothering me. The fact that for three weeks straight, I wasn't able to jerk off once without the bouncer popping into my mind. The fact that I wasn't even trying to fight it, giving into the unfamiliar fantasies every single time.
I bury my face in my palms and rub my eyes when the buzz of my phone starts anew.
I sigh and glance at the screen. Sawyer.
For fuck's sake.
This is ridiculous. No, scratch that. It has been ridiculous for the first few days. Now it's just fucking sad, and with every buzz of my phone, my pressure rises until it reaches dangerous levels. This has to fucking stop.
I switch off my phone completely. I don't have it in me to dodge another call.
I rise to my feet and march to my closet with a fresh purpose now.
What it is, I'm not exactly sure, but my body seems to know. I scan my options and grab a fresh blue t-shirt and pull it on.
I glance in the mirror. Maybe I should do something with my hair? Maybe style it better? Maybe…
I look into my own eyes in the mirror and let out a self-depreciating scoff. It doesn't fucking matter. He's not going to care how I look, anyway. I grab my phone and my car key and march out the door, slamming it behind me. It's way past due to fucking end this.