Chapter 28
brANDON
“Sixty more seconds!” Coach Wilson, the strength and conditioning coach, barks, pacing the perimeter of the weight room like a drill sergeant. “Push through it!”
My muscles scream in protest as I hold the plank position, sweat dripping onto the mat beneath me.
It’s my first day back to conditioning with the team since my suspension, and it’s been particularly brutal—a special form of torture designed to make us pay for our weekend off.
Around me, the rest of the team grunts and curses under their breath, all of us counting down the seconds in our heads.
“And . . . time!” Coach finally calls.
I collapse onto the mat with a groan, rolling onto my back as my abs throb in protest. West drops down beside me, his face flushed and glistening with sweat.
“I think I just saw Jesus,” he pants, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“My soul definitely left my body.” Jace laughs.
“Five-minute water break,” Wilson barks. “Then we’re hitting the squat racks!”
A collective groan rises from the team as we drag ourselves to our feet and shuffle toward the water station. I grab my water bottle and take a long pull, the cold liquid soothing my parched throat.
“You’ve been quiet this morning,” Damon says, appearing at my side. “Everything okay? You never texted us back after you left Bradd’s the other night, and we haven’t heard from you all weekend.”
I hesitate, unsure how to even begin explaining the events of the weekend, when my mind is a fucking mess of conflicting thoughts. “Tatum and I almost hooked up,” I blurt out.
Damon chokes on his water, coughing violently, which draws the rest of the guys over.
“What happened?” Chris asks, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening.
I drag a hand down my face, well aware that I’ve just opened Pandora’s box and already regretting it. “Tate broke up with Ethan Friday night at Bradd’s.”
“Well, that explains why he was sitting with his friends at the bar looking like someone pissed in his beer,” Jace says. “So, what happened?”
“I walked her back to her dorm room,” I continued, lowering my voice. “I stayed the night, but nothing happened, and then Saturday morning . . . things got intense.”
“Define ‘intense,’” Chris says, with a shit-eating grin.
I take another swig of water, buying time. “We were talking about her relationship with Ethan, about how”—I clear my throat—“unsatisfying it was for her.”
“You mean he sucked in bed,” Damon translates.
“That, and she was completely wasted out of her mind the one time they were together,” I say, squeezing the water bottle in my hands until my knuckles turn white.
At first, nobody speaks. The gym is alive with shouts and clanging weights, but within the little circle we’ve formed at the edge of the water station, there’s a sudden, gaping silence.
“Wait.” Jace frowns. “It wasn’t the night . . .?”
“Of the Sigma Alpha party? Yep,” I say, popping the p for emphasis, because it’s either that or put my fist through a wall. “Her first time was with that manipulative piece of shit while she was so drunk she could barely walk.”
The guys fall silent, their expressions darkening as my words sink in.
“Shit,” Damon mutters, shaking his head.
“Damn, man,” Chris says, and I can feel the rage building inside me again, that same white-hot fury that consumed me when she first told me.
“I always knew I hated that asshole, but this . . .” I slam my water bottle down on the bench. “This is a whole different level. I want to break his fucking face.”
“Again, you mean,” Chris says with a smirk.
“Only this time, I probably wouldn’t stop.” I exhale through my nose, shaking my head. “But I promised Tate I’d let it go and stay away from him.”
West nods. “What’s important is that they’re over, and she’s okay.”
“Wait, rewind,” Damon says, wiping the sweat from his brow as we head back into the weight room. “So, she broke up with him, you went back to her place, and then you just randomly hooked up the next morning?”
“Sort of. But that’s not even the craziest part,” I mumble, raking a hand through my hair.
“Dude, we’ve got two fucking minutes until Coach Wilson blasts our asses again,” Jace says, glancing toward him. “Spit it the fuck out.”
“She asked me to sleep with her.”
Damon’s eyes bug out. Chris’s jaw hangs slack for a beat, while West and Jace stare at me like I just spoke another language.
“She propositioned you?” Chris asks. “What the fuck does this mean? Did she finally come to her senses and realize she has feelings for you? We need fucking context, man!” he nearly shouts.
“Lower your voice, dumbass,” I hiss, catching a couple heads turn our way. “That selfish asshole ruined her first time, and I think she just . . .” I trailed off, unsure of how to put it in a way the guys will understand.
“Wants a do-over?” West asks, his brow creasing.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Since she had no prior experience to reference, she’s worried she was the reason it sucked. And she wants to try it again with someone who has her best interests at heart, someone whom she can trust explicitly.”
“So,” Chris scratches his head, “she is into you, or she’s not?”
I groan, dragging a hand over my face. “She made it very clear she still sees me as her best friend. In fact, she used that as the reason to cite for why it would work so perfectly,” I say, unable to keep the bitter edge from my tone.
“Oof.” Jace winces and slaps a hand over my shoulder. “Sorry, man.”
“Well, you’re going to do it, right? You said yes?” Chris asks expectantly.
“I haven’t given her an answer yet.”
Damon stops in his tracks. “Wait, what? Why the hell not?”
I shrug. “Because I don’t know what to fucking do?”
Chris snorts. “Uh, I think it’s pretty obvious.”
“It’s not, though,” I say with a shake of my head.
“For one, her heart is hurting. She’s fresh from a breakup, and it’s most definitely not the time to tell her how I really feel.
So, embarking on anything physical without telling her feels dishonest. Not to mention, if we sleep together, I’ll only fall harder. ”
Damon sighs. “Look, I get it. But things have changed. The situation isn’t ever how you imagined it, so . . .” He shrugs, letting his words hang in the air.
I growl, raking a hand through my hair. “But this is my dream, and I don’t want to cheapen it.”
“Have you considered the fact that if you don’t take her up on this deal, someone else will?” Jace asks.
My head jerks toward him, eyes narrowed, because no, it hadn’t fucking occurred to me. Until right now.
“Look,” Jace raises his hands in surrender.
“I hate to say it, but if she’s feeling cheated and upset about her first time and wants to replace that memory with something better and greater, she’s probably going to do it with or without you.
Now, or five months from now, either way, if she’s already gone there fresh after her breakup, that desire isn’t going to just disappear. ”
My jaw clenches at the image of Tatum with someone else—some faceless guy showing her what she’s been missing—and my blood runs cold.
“Might as well be you,” Chris chimes in. “Better it be someone who loves her, and who will protect her.”
I stare at him, my mind racing and stomach tying in knots. The thought of Tatum seeking out someone else and letting another man touch her, kiss her the way I did—it’s fucking unbearable.
I glance at West, the voice of reason, and the most introspective of my friends, waiting for his take.
“He’s right,” West says quietly. “It’s bound to happen sooner or later, and if you truly care about her, wouldn’t you rather it be with you? Someone who actually gives a damn? Someone who would treat her right?”
The weight room seems to fade around me as I consider this.
Maybe they’re right.
Maybe, I?
“Just think about it,” Damon says, his voice low. “But whatever you decide, be honest with yourself about what you can handle. This isn’t just about Tate and what she wants or how she feels. It’s gotta be about you, too.”
I nod, knowing he’s right, and also knowing I have another sleepless night ahead of me.
“But, bro, if you decide to go through with it.” He slaps an arm on my back. “Make it count.”
Yeah,” I breathe. “No pressure or anything.”
I stand outside Patty’s Grill, my hands shoved deep in my pockets while I watch Tatum through the window.
The late-afternoon sun catches in her dark hair, giving it an almost blue-black sheen under the diner’s lights.
She’s sitting at our usual booth, scrolling through her phone, completely unaware of my presence.
After two days of thinking about nothing but her proposition, I’ve made my decision. Now I just need the courage to walk through that door and tell her.
She looks up briefly, scanning the restaurant entrance before checking her watch and returning to her phone. Even this simple action—the way her brow furrows slightly, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear—sends a flood of warmth right through me.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation I need to have, but it does nothing for the erratic beating of my heart.
This is Tate, I tell myself. My best friend. The girl I’ve been in love with for as long as I can remember.
And I’m about to agree to sleep with her?no strings attached?knowing full well I’m already tangled in more strings than I can count.
The bell above the door jingles as I push it open, and when Tatum looks up, our eyes meet and her whole face lights up.
My stomach flips as she slides out of the booth and approaches me, rising on her tiptoes to brush a soft kiss against my cheek—a gesture she’s performed countless times over the years, but now, after our heated moment in her dorm room, it feels electric, charged with new meaning.
“Hey,” she says, her voice soft. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, following her back to the booth. “Practice ran late.”
We slide into opposite sides of the booth, and I immediately pick up the menu despite knowing it by heart. Still, it gives me something to focus on besides her face, her lips, and the memory of how they felt against mine.
The waitress stops by, and we order our usuals—double cheeseburger and fries for me, grilled chicken sandwich and sweet potato fries for her?and when she leaves, a charged silence falls between us.
Tatum fidgets with her straw wrapper, rolling it between her fingers while I run my sweat-damp palms over the tops of my thighs. “So . . .” she begins, her eyes flicking up to meet mine.
“So,” I echo, forcing my hands steady. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal,” I say, unable to take it any longer.
Her cheeks flush pink as I hold her gaze. “And?”
“I’ll do it,” I say, the words coming out more abruptly than I intended.
Her eyes widen slightly, a smile spreading across her mouth that makes my heart stutter. “Really?” She bites her lip and shakes her head like she can’t believe it. “When you asked to meet and talk about it, I thought for sure you were going to say no.”
I laugh, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the riot of emotions churning inside me. “I’m not sure I know how to say no to you, Tatum.”
But even if I did, I’d still want this.
Because as much as I can pretend I’m only doing this for her, I’m doing it for me, too.
“What are you doing after this?” she asks in a husky voice that sends heat coursing through my veins. “We could go back to your place and . . .”
My body responds instantly to her suggestion, blood rushing south so fast it makes my head spin. The image of Tatum waiting for me in my bed flashes through my mind—her dark hair spilled across her pillow, skin flushed and warm beneath my hands.
I swallow down the thoughts, fighting against every primal instinct screaming at me to say yes. “No,” I manage, my voice rougher than I intended.
“No?” Her eyebrows shoot up, confusion clouding her features.
I shake my head, splaying my hands over the table as I lean closer. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it on my terms. I’m in control here. It happens when and how I decide.”
She curls her lower lip, and I’ve never found a pout so sexy. “Okay, so when?”
Fuck, she’s eager.
Not for the first time, I wonder if she’s going to be the death of me.
I shift in my seat, aching to relieve the growing pressure in my jeans. Maybe I’m making this too complicated. She wants me; I want her. It could be that simple.
But I know it isn’t. Not for me. Not when I’ve imagined our first time together a thousand different ways over the years, and none of which involved being her experimental rebound.
I arch a brow, a grin curving my lips. “So impatient. Haven’t you ever heard of the expression, Good things come to those who wait?”
Her cheeks flush, and my smile widens.
“This isn’t going to be some transaction we schedule between classes,” I say, dragging my gaze to her mouth.
“You asked me to show you how good it could be, to replace the shitty experience you had, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.
So, let’s get one thing straight.” I lean closer, my voice dropping.
“When it happens, I’m in charge. You’ll do exactly what I say, when I say it. Understood?”
I hold my breath, waiting for her response, praying I didn’t overplay my hand.
After all, Ethan was clearly a selfish asshole, and the last thing I want is for her to think he and I are the same, when we’re not.
Especially when it’s clear he was motivated solely by his own pleasure. And I’m motivated by hers.
“Understood.”
“Good.” I lean back in my seat, mentally patting myself on the back for not scooping her out of the booth the moment she proposed going back to my place.
“Because I don’t want this to be some fully planned thing where we’re both overthinking every moment.
I don’t want it to feel forced or rehearsed or like it’s something you need to check off your list. I want it to happen naturally, when the time feels right.
Otherwise, the second time for you won’t be any better than the first.”
Tatum brings her thumb to her mouth, chewing on her nail thoughtfully as she studies me. “You surprise me.”
I frown, momentarily unsure of myself. “Is that a good thing?”
Her lips curve into a slow smile, one that makes my pulse trip over itself. “Yeah,” she says softly, just as the waitress arrives with our food. “It’s a really good thing.”