Chapter 16
WEST
My phone buzzes on the bed next to me, and I reflexively glance down at the screen to check the text notification as it pops up. My entire body relaxes when I see it’s from Damon, and I pause the movie I was watching so I can answer him.
Damon: I’m coming by after my class tonight
West: you don’t have to
Damon: I know but I’m still coming over
West: I’m fine
Damon: did you go to class today?
West: no
Damon: have left your room in the last 24 hours?
West: no
Damon: did you eat breakfast or lunch?
West: no
Damon: dinner?
I pause, and for some dumb reason, my neck flushes hot at his question. I ate dinner, but only because Anthony had something sent up to my room for me.
I’m not one of those people who wakes up hungry, so I usually have to force myself to eat breakfast, and I forget to eat when I’m distracted or busy because I don’t really feel hunger until I’m almost feral from it.
Not leaving my room all day was easy, and my plan was to raid the stash of snacks I keep in my closet when I got so hungry I couldn’t ignore it anymore, but one of the house stewards brought me a full dinner and one of the packed lunches they keep on hand for when people get snacky outside of dining hall hours.
When I asked who ordered it for me, he said it was Anthony.
West: yes
Damon: have you talked to anyone today?
West: I’m talking to you right now
Damon: so what you’re saying is you’re not okay
West: not really
Damon: have you talked to your family at all?
West: I told my brothers to fuck off and told my mom I’ll talk to her tonight. Does that count?
Damon: you haven’t talked to her yet?
West: I’m working up the courage
Damon: are you sure you’ve eaten enough today? You know how you get when you’re stressed
West: yeah, I’m good
I pause. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I don’t want to tell Damon about how Anthony has been making sure I eat. Or about how he let me hang out in his room last night and put up with my insanity while I spiraled and trauma-dumped on him.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m still a bit salty and still feeling rejected now that Damon has a boyfriend and doesn’t have any time for me, or it’s left over from him shutting me out for the past few months while he and Xave got together, but I want to keep this to myself for a while.
And there’s no way I can talk to him about what happened after I texted Mr. X and he snuck into my room because I pretty much dared him to. Or that I let him fuck me without ever seeing his face.
Damon already thinks I’m a mess because of McKenna. He doesn’t need to know that I’m also insane.
Damon: okay, if you’re sure
West: I’m sure
Damon: I’ll see you later
West: later
I exit out of my texts and toss my phone back on my bed.
The only reason I’m not spinning around in circles and driving myself completely crazy is thanks to whatever Anthony gave me last night.
Just like he said would happen, I started feeling sleepy about ten minutes after I took them, and I don’t even remember falling asleep.
I just remember feeling really out of it, then nothing until I woke up.
I don’t know if whatever I took had some sort of lingering calming effect, but I’ve been a bit numb since I woke up. Everything feels just a little bit duller, and that’s almost as welcome as getting ten hours of sleep last night.
But that dull feeling is fading, and I’m starting to get restless again.
I move to restart the movie I was watching but pause before I hit the button. I haven’t been paying attention to it, and I just can’t be assed to care about the story, or anything that’s happening to the characters.
Instead of turning the movie back on, I stop it completely. I’m not in the mood to watch it, and I should save it for when I’m in a better headspace and can actually enjoy it.
Absently, I open another one of the streaming services I have and scroll through the list of movies and TV shows I’ve saved for later, but even after going through the list twice, nothing is even remotely appealing, and I shut down the app.
What am I supposed to do now? I can’t just sit here and stare at the walls for the next few hours while I wait for Damon.
Reflexively, I reach for my phone, but stop myself before I can pick it up.
Ant sent me the link to the socials for his video edits last night after I left his room, and I’ve spent an ungodly amount of time stalking them today.
In my defense, his videos are amazing. The editing is top tier, and his song choices are always fire, but he and his friends are also really fucking good, and some of the stunts they pull off are mind-bending.
I don’t have the same excuse for why I also started following the house hockey team last night, or why I spent way too much time checking out the videos and posts with Anthony in them.
And I really can’t use the excuse that I’m checking out his hockey skills when most of the team posts are thirst traps with a few clips from games and practices sprinkled in.
Obsessively stalking Anthony online is not going to help me get over this inconvenient crush I have on him, and I need to stay the fuck off my phone and find something else that will distract me for a while.
I could venture out of my room and hit the gym.
It’s late enough that there probably won’t be more than a few guys in there, if any, but I don’t want to chance seeing anyone and having to deal with their questions.
I could go for a walk to see if that will clear my head, but the thought of being out and running into people right now is about as appealing as army-crawling over hot coals.
My gaze lands on the bottom corner of my screen. It’s almost time for Anthony’s game to start.
Since Silvercrest doesn’t take part in any competitions with other schools, we don’t have formal sports teams. Instead, we have what we call house teams that play in a competitive inter-house league.
Our campus is divided into four quadrants, with one of the four frats in each section. Everything in a given quadrant is technically under the frat’s control and is considered their territory, and those territory borders are also used as the feeder pool for school competitions and sports teams.
I stopped playing on the Keeper soccer team after my first year because everyone took it way too seriously.
I like to win as much as the next person, and I can be a competitive asshole when I’m challenged, but the dirty plays and blatant cheating was just so unnecessary, and it took all the fun out of the game for me.
I’ve never watched one of the school hockey games, but it wouldn’t hurt to check out the game for a few minutes and see how the team is doing. Maybe watching sports will help distract me.
Watching Anthony play sports kind of goes against my whole “find something to do that will distract me from my obsession with Anthony” mission, but it’s a better option than stalking his social media or driving myself crazy analyzing every single interaction we’ve ever had.
Making up my mind, I open my browser and go to the Silvercrest streaming site.
All the school games are streamed live, and because Silvercrest is extra as fuck, each stream is edited in real time to look like a professional game.
And when the games are over, the streams are archived and available to anyone who has access to the school internet.
The hockey stream is the first one listed, and my heart does this weird, skittering beat as I click on it.
From the looks of things, the players are still doing their warm-ups, and I instantly zero in on where Ant, Hazen, and Connor are kneeling on the ice and doing what looks like butterfly dips to stretch out their hips and thighs.
A tingle moves through my chest as my neck heats. I know why they do those stretches, but the motion is so reminiscent of another action that my brain starts going places it shouldn’t, and I want to facepalm myself when I realize that I’m actually a bit jealous of the ice under Ant.
Shaking off that insane thought, I try to get my mind out of the gutter, but I can’t help noticing how good Ant looks in his hockey gear.
He’s not wearing a helmet, and he hasn’t worked up a sweat yet, so his hair is smooth and glossy as it falls around his face in thick, messy strands, and his naturally olive-toned skin has a faint pink blush from the cold air.
I’ve never really been into hockey gear since it doesn’t show any of the good stuff, but seeing Ant in his pads and jersey is doing things to me, and I’m half hard before I can tell my dick to calm the fuck down.
He looks good, like really fucking good, and my stomach clenches as he and the twins skate over to where Rath is doing his own warm-ups near the net in full goalie gear.
Ant told me he played center, but what about the twins? I could always look up the team roster, but that’s too much work. I’ll just wait until they start playing.
The camera pans to the other side of the rink, focusing on the players on the other team, and I check the countdown timer in the top corner of the stream. Less than a minute until the game starts.
I don’t know why I feel weird right now, like I shouldn’t be watching the game, but I try to ignore the strange fluttering in my stomach and settle back against my pillows as I wait for the countdown to end.
The camera pans back to center ice, where Anthony and one of the twins are doing more of those butterfly stretches, and my dick goes so hard it tents my sweats.
“For fuck’s sake. Could you maybe not?” I mutter and adjust myself.
This crush I have on Anthony is getting ridiculous, and I need to get over it before I say or do something that could ruin the tentative friendship we seem to be forming.
Of course, that would be easier if he didn’t send out mixed signals like it’s his job, or if I could get a better read on him.