11. Lee
ELEVEN
lee
My knuckles sting as I run them under the cold water. The blood swirls down the drain, taking with it all my anger and hostility, leaving behind a cold ache that’s bone-deep.
One, two, three, rinse. I count just like she would.
Salem. She has my emotions all fucked up. Balled up into this tight little box. I look up and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror just as the bathroom light flickers overhead. Of course it makes the bruising look far worse than it probably is.
“Violence doesn’t solve anything, Lee.”
I can hear the drop in Salem’s voice in my ears and see her slumped shoulders and frown as if she’s standing right in front of me. Disappointed but not scared, even with blood on my hands. I should’ve known I’d ruin our first official date. I’m a disaster wrapped in a bow.
At least she didn’t rub it in my face.
Didn’t tell me what a disgrace I was. Didn’t lecture me about how I made her look, us look. She’d let me hold her through her panic attack afterward, her gloved fingers gripping my shirt while I counted breaths with her.
One inhale.
Two exhale.
Three seconds of quiet.
“You didn’t have to fight him,” she whispered against my chest.
I did. The second I saw those hands on her waist, I snapped. Not in the usual way. No, this was different, with a violence that simmered under my skin. More primal.
Mine.
The word echoes in my head as I dry my hands. Three paper towels, just like she would use. Fuck, when did I start adopting her habits? More importantly, when did I stop minding? It doesn’t matter. My thoughts shift to when I dropped her off at home. The way Noah stood like a bulldog on the porch, his arms crossed over his chest, his features mostly blanketed in the dark.
The quiet “thank you” that slipped from Salem’s lips before she ran inside.
I sat in my Jeep counting her steps—one, two, three, four, all the way to twenty-seven. I waited until she was safely tucked inside before pulling away from the curb.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. The guy in the mirror looks wrecked—hair wild from Salem’s fingers running through it while we danced, a busted lip, and eyes a little wild from too much vodka and not enough control. I’ve been with women before. Not many and never seriously—always preferring men for anything beyond basic experimentation. If only to punish my family for their bigotry. Salem, though … she’s different. I’ve never been so drawn to a woman before. Never wanted to simultaneously protect and possess someone like this.
The Mill is quiet tonight, as it typically is. Summer is here, classes are mostly done, and everyone is enjoying their time away from school, hanging out with friends and family and getting ready for the next chapter of their life. Not me. I’ve come to enjoy the quiet, and I made peace with being alone. I’m used to it now.
Drew’s got Bel, and Seb has Elyse and a fucking baby that will be here any day now. All my friends, minus Aries, are maturing, finding their soulmates, and living happily ever after.
My phone buzzes.
Salem: Did you ice your hand?
Salem: Three times, ten minutes each.
Me: Yes, Dr. Salem. *insert saluting emoji*
Salem: I’m serious.
Me: I know. I’m counting the minutes.
Salem: Good, you better be or you’re getting a spanking next time.
This strange warmth unfurls in my chest.
She’s worried about me. Counting for me. Thinking about me.
My lips twist up into a smile. I’m so fucked. We just started fake dating, but that’s the last thing I want us to be. I’ve spent my entire life pretending, and for once, I don’t want to do that anymore. With Salem, I don’t have to pretend.
Except that’s exactly what we’re doing—pretending.
The bathroom door creaks in greeting, and I expect Drew to be there, ready to lecture me for fighting in public again. But it’s not him; it’s Aries who leans against the doorframe with an odd look on his face.
“Quite a show tonight, Sterling.”
I shrug, turning back to examine my knuckles. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Fighting is the only way to get the chaos in my head to shut up sometimes. Fighting, bourbon, and sex. Which … that actually sounds like the perfect fucking night.
“What the hell? You were there? Why didn’t you come say hi? I didn’t see you.”
“A few guys from the team wanted to hang out, so I took them up on the offer. I was going to come over but thought better of it. Didn’t want to interrupt you. Will say I’ve never seen you so protective before.” He moves closer, his reflection appearing behind mine in the mirror. “But especially not over a woman.” His voice sounds strange, and I don’t know if it’s the way he’s acting or the topic of discussion that’s got me wanting to count exit routes instead of bruises.
“Salem’s different,” I speak carefully, watching his reflection.
“Is she?” He’s way too close now. I can smell the vodka on his breath. “Or are you just playing a very convincing game?”
I grip the sink edge, forcing myself to remain still. To count my breaths like Salem taught me.
One reason to step back: He’s drunk.
Two reasons to worry: He’s acting strange.
Three seconds to decide: How much truth to tell.
But then my gaze catches on my bruised knuckles, and I remember the way Salem felt cradled in my arms, our bodies swaying together as we danced.
Nothing about this is a game.
“Come on, Lee,” he presses.
I blink and am back inside the bathroom. Aries is closer now, his broad linebacker frame crowding me. The air is heavy and thick. Something is off.
His long, curly hair falls forward as he leans in, his scruffy beard almost brushing my shoulder. Despite years of friendship, he’s never shown interest in exploring anything sexual with me. But right now, he’s looking at me like he might be interested.
“Since when do you commit to women? You barely commit to men,” he adds.
I clench my jaw and bite out a response. “Don’t start that shit.”
“Why not? Everyone wants to know …” His hand lands on my shoulder and gently caresses my arm. “Come on, Lee. We’re friends. I know your track record with both teams, and commitment isn’t in your playbook. Fucking and leaving before things can get serious is more your style.”
I take a step back, putting space between us. The movement is careful, deliberate—trying not to hurt him while making my position clear. “I’m with Salem.”
“Only Salem?” He laughs, but there’s no joy in his laughter, more bitterness and anger than anything. “Sure, you’ve been with women before, but never in a serious way. Never like this.”
“Things change, people change.” I shove around him into the bedroom.
“Do they?” He stalks forward, caging me against the bed banister by using his large-ass size to his advantage. “People and things don’t change that fast. Not that you asked for my opinion, but I feel like this is another one of your games. A way to get your parents off your back momentarily. Are you trying to improve your skill? In need of a challenge? Wait, don’t tell me—the usual girls aren’t doing it for you anymore, so you decide to conquer the campus freak?”
I clench my hands into fists involuntarily, the urge to hit him close to outweighing our many years of friendship. “Don’t fucking call her a freak,” I grit out through my teeth.
“Or what?”
Anger pools in my gut. “Or we will have a problem. Maybe that’s what you want? You act like you’re looking for a fucking fight, and you know I’m always down to throw a few punches. But I’m really holding myself back here because we’re supposed to be friends.” I push back against the desire to act on violence and send Aries’s head spinning.
“We are friends. Why the hell do you think I’m trying to talk you out of whatever stupid mistake you’re making?”
“Talk me out of it? All you’re doing is pissing me off.”
“Because I’m telling you the truth?” he whispers in my ear. His breath is warm on my neck, and I can’t lie to myself … a tiny part of me wants to push back. Kiss him. Let the physical way it would be between us shut off this swirling in my head. But I don’t. I take a deep breath like a fucking adult and narrow my eyes. “What truth? I’m serious about her. Whatever fucked-up shit this is between her and me … I’m going to see it through to the end.”
“Whatever this is?” A cruel laugh bellows out of him. “You can’t even identify what you guys are. I don’t know. Smells like bullshit to me. Like it’s not real. You don’t do relationships, Lee. Not with men, and definitely not with women.”
“Didn’t,” I correct him. “I didn’t do relationships, but the past doesn’t matter.”
“Oh really? As many years as I’ve known you, you’ve never had a serious relationship, and now you just expect me to believe you’ve changed ?”
“I don’t expect shit, and best of all, I don’t need your approval. Part of me has to wonder if you really know me as well as you think.”
“Don’t I?” His fingers brush my jaw, his curls falling forward as he leans in a little closer. “All of us have watched you bounce between guys and girls at The Mill . Never once have I seen you commit to anyone. Never seen you lay claim. Never seen you throw a punch because someone else showed interest. Then Salem comes along, and suddenly, you’re off the market?”
I catch his wrist before he can touch me again. “Back off, Aries. You’re drunk.” I grit my teeth, the sting in his words far worse than the pain in my knuckles or my face.
“Better to be drunk than lying. Which is what you’re doing. To her. To everyone.” His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Or maybe, just to yourself.”
The darkness in his tone makes me grip his wrist tighter. “What the fuck is going on?” This attitude and behavior are unlike Aries, making me wonder what is going on with him .
All he does is shrug. “Maybe I’m tired of watching you play games.” He yanks his arm free, muscles flexing. “Tired of pretending I don’t see through your bullshit veil.”
“There’s no veil.” The words come out sharp. “I’m with Salem. That’s all you or anyone else need to know.”
“Right.” He steps back, danger dancing in his eyes like flames in a campfire. “Keep feeding yourself those lies, but we both know the truth. You wouldn’t even know what to do with her if she gave you the chance.”
Fucking asshole.
That’s a low fucking blow that drives a knife of anguish deep into my gut. He’s right. I wouldn’t know what to do. Not that I’ve shared that truth with anyone else, and especially none of my friends.
In a way, it’s embarrassing to admit that I’ve never gone all the way with a woman before. Yeah, I’ve made out with them, sure, and done almost everything else, but never full-on sex.
It’s embarrassing, at least in my mind. I let everyone think whatever they want about me and my sexual prowess. No point in correcting them or drawing more attention to something that I don’t want to talk about anyway.
“Dude, what the hell is going on with you ? Do I need to call an intervention? Because I fucking will. I will get all of us together, and we will fix whatever the problem is.”
Aries runs a hand through his hair, and when he blinks, that dark, dangerous energy disappears. Right before my eyes, he morphs into the familiar warm friend I’ve always known. Weird. What the actual fuck?
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath while taking a step back. “I’m being an ass, aren’t I?”
The tension in my shoulders eases. “Yeah. An absolute dick. You called me a slut.”
“It’s the fucking vodka.” He slumps against the bedroom wall, sinking to the floor, suddenly looking more tired than threatening. “Makes me dramatic. Next thing you know, I’ll be writing bad poetry and crying about my ex.”
Despite everything, I snort. This is Aries—self-deprecating, harmless, and able to break the tension with a well-timed joke. The linebacker frame seems less imposing and more like the gentle giant I’ve come to know.
“You’re still an ass,” I say, but there’s no heat in it.
“Yeah, well.” He sprawls his legs out in front of him. “When am I not? But in all seriousness, this thing with Salem. Is it really different?”
I join him on the floor, keeping some distance between us but feeling more comfortable than before in his presence. We’ve had countless drunk conversations here—about hookups, friend drama, and the endless pressure of expectation from our families. This isn’t any different, but it feels like it is for some reason.
“It’s different,” I confirm, examining my bruised knuckles. “She’s different.”
“Because she’s a woman?”
“I don’t think it matters if she’s a woman or not. She’s different because she’s her .” The words come out before I can filter them. “She’s a puzzle, Aries. Like no one I’ve ever met. She counts things. Did you know that? Steps and breaths and ceiling tiles. Makes this fucked-up world make sense somehow.”
Aries is quiet, probably thinking up his next asshole retort as he picks at a loose thread on his jeans. “This is surprising. You really like her.”
It’s not a question.
“Yeah.” I let my head fall back against the wall. “There’s only a slight issue. I’ve never… I mean, with women, I’ve done stuff, but never … you implied you knew, but I’d never talked to you about it before. Not this.”
“Wait.” Aries sits up straighter, and I look back at him, meeting his shocked expression. “You’ve never fucked a woman? Dude, I was just pressing buttons until I hit something.”
Heat crawls up my neck, but the embarrassment seems to fade. “Not with my cock.”
The admission hangs between us like a bright red flag. It feels good not to carry that secret on my shoulders anymore.
“Shit.” Aries runs a hand over his beard. “And Salem … does she know?”
“That I’m bi? Obviously. That I’ve never fucked a woman? No.”
“You should tell her.”
I laugh, but it comes out hollow. “And this is why none of us take relationship advice from you.”
Aries smiles. “I’m the perfect one to come to for advice. I’ll just tell you to stay the fuck away from women in general.”
All I can do is shake my head. “Well, FYI, it would not go over well if I said, ‘Hey, Pantry Girl, just so you know, I have no idea what I’m doing, but please let me slip my cock inside you.’”
“Smooth.” Aries chuckles.
“See? Not following your advice.”
“Pantry Girl? That’s what you call her?”
I can’t take this fucker seriously. “That’s all you got from that big-ass sentence?”
He nods, accepting this like he accepts most of my weird shit. “If you’re serious about her…”
“I’m serious. She’s not.” The certainty in my voice surprises us both.
“Then make her serious about you. I’m sure she’ll be super gentle when she takes your other virginity.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
I flip him off, and he chuckles, but my thoughts drift away from anger and right to Salem. The truth is terrifying. I want her for real.
“What if I mess it up?” The words come out barely a whisper. “What if I hurt her?”
Aries leans close and bumps my shoulder with his. “That’s what everyone worries about, man. Gay, straight, bi—doesn’t matter. First times are scary as fuck.”
“Since when did you become the voice of reason?”
“Since my best friend started having a sexual identity crisis.” He grins, then sobers. “Salem seems … different. Special. Maybe worth being scared for.”
I close my eyes, remembering how she felt in my arms. How she lets me count with her. How she quiets the chaos in my head.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “She is.”
Aries stands, offering me a hand up. “Then figure it out. Preferably before I have to watch you two eye fuck one another at a party.”
“Shut up.” But I take his hand, letting him pull me up.
“Never.” He heads for the door, then pauses. “And Lee?”
“Yeah?”
“About earlier. I’m sorry. I just … I’m really worried about you.”
I don’t say anything since right now I’m worried about me, too. And him.
Fuck, he’s been acting so freaking weird since the graduation party. First, the thing with Bel, and now this. I wonder if he’s feeling the loss of our brotherhood. It’s something to think about. Instead of bringing it up or diving deeper, I nod, understanding what he’s not saying. He’s seen me spiral before. Seen me self-destruct. Seen me run from anything real.
But Salem …
Salem makes me want to stay.
Makes me want to sit inside the discomfort, especially if it means I get to be beside her.
To figure it out.
To be brave.
Even if I have no idea what I’m doing.
Especially then.