Chapter 26
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I spot Eric as he’s crossing the gym, cutting through the Nebraska crowd like he’s on a mission. He’s exactly the same as he was when I left. Same soft smile, same wide hazel eyes, same nervous energy he always carried around me.
When our eyes meet, his grin widens, lighting up his face. Then he’s moving, practically running straight at me. I catch him in a bear hug, muscle memory pulling him tight to my chest and lifting him off the ground. He’s shaking. Hell, maybe I am too.
“Brody,” he breathes, the way you might say someone’s name if they came back from the dead rather than moved to another state.
“Hey, bud. It’s good to see you,” I murmur, smoothing a hand over the back of his head.
Eric tears up and buries his face in my neck.
“Hey, it’s okay.”
“It’s not,” he mumbles into my neck. “It sucks here without you. I can’t believe you just left me like that.”
My gut clenches.
“Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
I pull him gently towards the corridor that leads to the athletic offices, where it’s quiet. A conversation like this needs a place away from the noise and curious eyes. He follows me without question, like he always did.
In the empty hallway, I lean against the wall, and he leans against me, collapsing right into me, chest to chest, resting his head against my shoulder.
It reminds me of the times he’d fall asleep on our couch and end up slumped against my chest. Back then he was just Leo’s wide-eyed, optimistic, na?ve little brother.
He was so sweet it made something in me ache whenever he was sad.
“Why’d you leave?” he asks, voice wobbly.
I swallow hard. For someone who hadn’t told a soul about everything that’s going on with my family, I sure am getting more comfortable with sharing.
Telling Beck was one thing. I’d rather not have to share all the details with Eric, but seeing him this raw and hurt, I can’t not tell him something.
I always had a soft spot for my roommate’s younger brother.
“My brother,” I say quietly. “He got sick. And it’s pretty bad. Worse than I told anyone. My family needs me closer to home. I want to be closer to home, so I don’t have to fly halfway across the country in case—” I swallow. “I just need to be there.”
Eric sucks in a shaky breath. “Broderick Miller, you asshole. Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because I was too raw. Because I didn’t want to answer questions. Because I was worried you and Leo would think less of me for whatever reason, because I have a long history of people not being kind to my family because of things beyond our control.
Because you would have begged me to stay, and it would have been harder to leave.
But all I say is, “I didn’t want you worrying.”
He lifts his head then, eyes shining with tears. His lips part, and he leans in. I gently stop him with a soft kiss to his forehead. It’s not a rejection. I’ve never been able to reject him outright. But it’s not an invitation either. Back then, it was because he was too young and innocent.
Now I’ve got a tall, grouchy, uptight mess of a man who I’m pretty sure has it bad for me. Maybe almost as bad as I have it for him.
“I miss you,” he whispers.
“I miss you too.”
I’m about to tell him he should get back before the dual starts when something catches my eye at the end of the hall.
Pierce Jamison leans against the far side of the wall, casually scrolling or reading something on his phone.
He’s not doing anything. He hasn’t even acknowledged that he noticed us here, but I have a feeling he was listening, and I find myself backtracking over our conversation, making sure I didn’t say anything too obvious or inflammatory.
“Come on,” I say quickly, guiding Eric back. “We should go.”
The meet is brutal, in all the best ways.
Both teams fight hard. Nebraska puts on a show for the visiting opponents. And Huntston pushes right back.
Beck is a fucking animal out there. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but he’s had his fierce game face on all day, and he isn’t pulling any punches.
He steamrolls Leo, my old roommate, so efficiently that Leo gives me a helpless, breathless laugh afterward.
I can’t wait to introduce them later after the competition is over.
Coach McCoy already gave me permission to take a few hours to myself after the meet is over, and I’m going to try to convince Beck to come with me to hang out with my old friends.
I’m concerned that Beck doesn’t look proud of his victory, nor does he cheer much for the rest of our teammates as we make it through the weight classes.
He looks tense. More high-strung than usual, and considering just how good he was feeling when we left the hotel this morning, his frustration feels out of character.
Later, just after the meet is over, I think I’ve figured him out. I’m standing at the edge of the gym, laughing and chatting with Leo. Eric says something funny about Leo’s epic loss, and I wrap my arms around Eric’s shoulders like I’m going to take him down to the mats.
I catch Beck’s scowl across the mats. The lasers he’s shooting across the gym could set fires if it was dry in here. I feel the friction of it against my skin, and actually squeeze Eric’s shoulders protectively.
He’s my college best friend’s little brother. He’s so tiny and innocent, don’t hurt him!
I can’t help but chuckle. His jealousy should annoy me or piss me off. But rather than be irritated by it, I feel oddly warm and fuzzy inside.
Relax, baby girl. He’s just a friend.
Whatever message I’m trying to send with my eyes must not be transmitted or received as intended, because when I press a chaste kiss to the top of Eric’s head—an affectionate, but innocent gesture to tease Beck—he looks like an angry cat with his back up.
It’s kind of cute. And I kind of love it, even if it makes me a bad person to be teasing him when he’s not getting the joke. I’ll make it up to him, and rile him up all over again, when I point out what his jealousy really means.
You like me, Lincoln Beckett.
Most of our team is already in the locker room by the time I get there. I head straight to the temporary lockers, grabbing my things quickly and looking around for Beck so I can clear the air with him before I head off with my friends, but something feels wrong.
It occurs to me that it’s too quiet in here. The locker room is never this quiet after a meet. There’s nothing more than a low murmur coming from the far side of the room. When I turn around to see what’s happening, I notice too many eyes on me.
Teammates and friends I’ve made in the last few months cut their eyes at me and dart their gazes away quickly. People look at me with pity, and what looks like morbid curiosity.
Then I notice where the only chatter in the room is coming from. Pierce, holding court in the far corner of the room like the cowardly piece of shit he is. I didn’t miss the disgusted and judgmental looks I saw him throwing my friends during and after the dual.
Then I hear fragments of what he’s saying. Words that burn me to my core. Slurs, either directed to me or my friend Eric, or both of us since I’m clearly close to him. Something about my father being lucky he doesn’t have to witness his sons’ downward spiral.
I hear my brother’s name. And my vision narrows until he’s the only thing in the room.
“What did you just say?” I ask, my voice gravelly with warning.
“What? I wasn’t talking to you. Mind your business.”
“You’ve got my name in your mouth, Jamison. Spit it out.”
“Maybe your family name, but you’re used to being in the news by now, aren’t you, Miller?
I mean, after your dad made such a mess of things.
And now to hear that your brother is following in his footsteps?
What a fucking shame.” He scoffs, and I hate that it reminds me of the sound Beck makes when he’s sick of my bullshit or trying to pretend he is and can’t come up with anything to say.
Unfortunately, Pierce still has plenty more to say.
“It’s honestly not even surprising. Davis was a joke in high school, always embarrassing himself.
How many times was he arrested? Anyway,” Pierce looks smugly at the people listening to him, “everyone knows the whole Miller family is a disaster. Dad drank himself to death and nearly killed people by running his car into a tree in someone’s front yard.
Mom can’t keep a job to save her life. Big brother overdosed and got sent to mandatory rehab and is now living with mommy in a falling-down hovel.
And little brother walks around pretending he’s above it all while he sticks his dick in trashy redneck twinks and drools over the captain of the wrestling team.
” Pierce laughs. “You’re fucking pathetic, Miller.
Why don’t you go home and stop pretending you’re better than the trash you’ve always been.
Maybe spend some time getting arrested with your brother before it’s too late, ya know? ”
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it a hundred times more—I could not give a shit less what Pierce Jamison and his evil, money-grubbing family think of me. I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me.
But hearing my brother’s name in his mouth. Hearing the details of my personal family troubles spewed for everyone to hear.
It fucking guts me.
How does he know about Davis? He shouldn’t know any of it. No one should know.
And before last night, no one did know.
I spin around, heart jackhammering, and find Beck in the showers.
He’s just stepping out of the spray, wrapping a towel around his waist. His wet hair drips down his neck and shoulders and chest. The same neck and shoulders and chest that I kissed last night.
After I told him the most painful truth I’ve ever uttered out loud.
Something I didn’t even tell a close friend that I’ve known for years.
Beck looks up and notices me standing, still in my uniform, sweater, and shoes, in the middle of the showers. He has the fucking audacity to look angry. At me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I say, my voice choked.
He stalks toward me, looking around us before muttering angrily under his breath. “What do you mean what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Why the hell would you do something like that? You were so fucking obvious, Pierce started asking questions.”
I’m seeing red right now. I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. And I can’t be bothered to care. He betrayed me, to my worst fucking enemy.
“So you were jealous, is that it? Or was it that you were afraid of being outed by association?” My voice is so low I’m not even sure that he hears me until I see his visceral reaction to any mention of his sexuality in public.
Not that I’d out him like that. Even now, even after this, I would never.
“Do you have any idea how awkward of a position you put me in with Pierce?”
Something inside me snaps, and the furious rage inside me seeps out of my eyes because it can’t be held in anymore. Is that why he told him? To cover his own secrets?
“How could you do that, Beck? I kept your fucking secrets. How could you?”
Through the blurry haze of my tears, I see Beck freeze.
“What?” The anger bleeds out of his voice and is replaced with something that sounds like concern, or pity. Maybe my words finally hit him where it hurts. It makes me feel nauseous to admit it, but I hope he feels a fraction of the pain I feel right now.
“Him?” I gesture sharply towards Pierce. “You told him? Out of everyone, you picked the one person who would do the most damage? The person whose family ruined everything in my life. Because of what, Beckett? Jealousy?”
His face twists in confusion. “What are you talking ab—"
My voice cracks in a way that humiliates me, but I can’t stop now. “I knew you were a pretentious asshole. God knows you work hard to keep that image, but I didn’t think you’d stoop this low. You are your father’s son after all.”
His mouth falls open, hurt and confusion warring on his face, but I can't hear anything he says after that. I’m gasping, dizzy, drowning in the sudden humiliation of it all.
I grab my bag and back toward the exit. Pierce, the fucking idiot, steps into my path. Without thinking, I deck him with a right hook that reverberates up my arm. He goes down hard, and I push through the door.