Chapter Two
Two Hours Earlier
Bodie
“Amber,will you please talk to me ?” I still don’t understand why she’s so mad. I wanted to hang out with my best friend while he was working—what’s so wrong with that? “Can we just chill and watch some TV?” I don’t even wait for an answer before turning on the first game I can find.
“Seriously?”
I look up to find her in her usual stance when she’s mad at me. I’m surprised the sides of her skirt haven’t worn through by now. “What did I do now?”
“I told you how upset I was that you wouldn’t play pool with me, and you made an excuse about wanting to hang out with Bryce.
You tell me how much you love me and want to spend time with me, but as soon as we get home, you turn on a game.
” When she starts talking with her hands, I know I’m in deep trouble.
“It’s after midnight. Can’t we just go to bed? ”
“Fine. I didn’t think it was such a big deal.” I give in and pick up the remote.
“Fine? Not a big deal?”
Shit. Judging by her deep-red cheeks, I chose the wrong words.
“Nothing is a big deal to you. Everything is ‘not a problem’ or ‘it’ll be okay’ no matter what the situation.”
“I’m sorry. You know I don’t get stressed out easily. Only when it comes to my career.”
“And anything to do with Bryce.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last month you were so distraught when Bryce cut his hand while making dinner for you guys, that you talked about it for a week. Called him more than usual—which is a lot already—just to check in on him.”
“So? I don’t understand why checking on my friend who hurt himself is a reason to be this upset.”
“Bodie, do you really not see that you’re in love with him?”
“What?!” I stand, throwing my hands up in disbelief. “Now you’re just trying to make up a reason to fight with me.”
“You really don’t.” The sadness in her voice makes me realize she truly believes it
“Amber, I love Bryce as a friend. Maybe like a brother. That’s it.”
“Wow.” I go to swipe the tears from her eyes, but she beats me to it as she backs away and heads for the door.
I follow, unsure what else to do. “Bodie, you really need to sit down and think about all the times you chose Bryce over me, for even the simplest things. All the times you spent talking about him or with him on the phone while you were with me. Choosing him to be your plus one at almost every team event. How you chose to get an apartment with him instead of me.” The ache in her tone breaks my heart.
Flashes of conversations and moments from the past decade run through my head—images of her disappointment pop up too often. I fidget with embarrassment before recalling more instances I’ve let her down.
“Yeah, you see it now. Don’t you?” She smiles as her eyes glisten with sorrow. “I’m done playing runner-up, Bodie. I’m tired of you being more in love with him than you are with me.” Her lips are soft against my heated cheek. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Her whisper is the last thing I hear. I’m frozen in place with memories and her words flooding my brain—so stuck that when I come back to the present, I realize she’s gone.
Have you ever had that dream where you’re falling from a building, but you never land, just endlessly falling until you wake up?
That’s basically how I’ve felt until I see Bryce kneeling in front of me.
The only difference is that on the way down, I’ve been seeing every memory of my friendship with Bryce replaying on a loop.
I’ve been searching for that moment when I supposedly fell in love with him.
I still don’t fully believe what Amber is assuming, but I can’t fully discount it—she couldn’t have pulled it out of thin air.
“What the fuck kind of excuse is that? Has she lost her mind?”
I don’t even remember telling him what Amber said as I slowly crawl upright on the couch, my hands feeling heavy as I wipe the daze—and tears—from my face.
When I open my eyes, Bryce is still on his knees with questioning brows, and for the first time in eighteen years I notice his eyes aren’t as pale green as they typically seem.
They’re more like a bright emerald—almost like The Wizard of Oz’s Emerald City.
“Bodie, snap out of it. You’re scaring me, man.” The sound of Bryce snapping his fingers breaks me out of my stupor.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“What do you mean she said you’re in love with me?”
“Apparently, because I chose to live with you and not her, and well, choosing you over her all the time, she thinks I love you.” My eyes wander everywhere but to his. “Like more than friends.”
I swear I can hear his heart beating through the silence between us. I dare to glance his way and find him staring back at me.
“You don’t have to freak out. Bode. You and I both know it’s not true.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. But…” I dry my palms on my jeans. “Why would she think that? Just because we’re close doesn’t mean I want to be more than friends.”
“Chill, man. This is no reason to have an existential crisis.” Bryce huffs. “Maybe she was looking for a reason and couldn’t find another. We know she’s always hated me. I’m the perfect scapegoat.” The reasoning makes sense—his frustration is with Amber and not me.
I’m mesmerized by his confidence in all of this. I wish I could have as much. When he throws his arm over my shoulders, trying to shake some sense into me, I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay. I’m fine. Just an excuse to get rid of me. Got it.”
“That’s the spirit. See, you were just a shitty-ass boyfriend.” He cackles as he jumps back from my attempt at a dead arm and runs down the hall toward our bedrooms.
As I lazily walk back to my room, I’m still not convinced Amber’s claims are completely baseless. Why did I choose Bryce over her so many times? A soft tap on the door before it opens makes me smile, but my gut churns with unease because I’m about to lie to my best friend for the first time.
“Hey, in all seriousness. You good?”
“Yeah, Bryce.” I remember to smile. “I’m good.”
He nods with a one-sided smile, and I remember that small birthmark he has on that side of his jaw. It’s part of the reason he grew out his beard as soon as he started getting facial hair. He hated it so much, no matter how much I told him I liked it because it almost resembles a four-leaf clover.
“Need a hug?”
“I’ll never say no.” I smile for real this time as he strides toward me to give the twenty seconds I crave.
He wraps around me, my shoulders drop, and just like that, everything feels right when I’m in his arms.
Bryce offers a smile and goes to bed without another word, but for some reason I’m feeling a little lost again. Lingering thoughts keep me awake well into the morning hours, and by the time I get out of bed to head to the gym, I’m exhausted.
Walking into the training facility, I see multiple teammates already starting their routines.
“Slacking this morning, huh, Foster?” Of course, Davidson is the first to comment on my tardiness.
“Give me a break. It’s only ten minutes.”
The chuckles from around the room tell me this isn’t going to be an easy day.
“Foster, you look like shit.” Mickells is next to dish out the jests as I walk into the locker room. “Did you lose a fight with your girlfriend last night?”
The comment should upset me since, as of last night, I no longer have a girlfriend—weirdly enough, it doesn’t.
I know we weren’t connecting recently, and she seemed to always be in a bad mood—and now I have an explanation for everything.
Even so, I should’ve known something was happening between us when we were spending less time together, and the sex was getting less enjoyable each time.
Hell, it’s been well over a month, and I don’t even miss it.
“Foster, you’re supposed to lift the weights and put them down.” Davidson demonstrates with the free weights in front of me that I’ve apparently been sitting in front of for however long. I don’t even remember coming out here. “See, like this. Try it.”
“Fuck off, asshole.” Feeling like a zombie is a weird concept, but I finally understand what it means. A part of me insists Amber is off the mark on this one, but then a memory pops up, and damn, does it finally make sense.
A few years ago, when Bryce came to the gym with me, while we were changing in the locker room, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
I didn’t know what came over me, but watching him change, even if it was only down to his boxer briefs, had me captivated.
His thick quads were the first thing I noticed.
The contour of every muscle was so defined, and then he turned around and displayed his bubble butt—feeling my dick twitch was what snapped me out of gawking over my best friend’s body.
I’ve seen him undressed before, even naked once or twice, but at that moment something different was happening.
I chalked it up to Amber being away on vacation with her friends and I was horny.
Looking back now, it was a lousy excuse.
“Dude, are you going to work out or just stare into space all day?”
“Mickells, will you get off my ass?”
I notice my dick is half-mast as I’m about to stand up, so that’s a hard nope.
What the fuck is happening to me? I take a deep breath and start thinking about my grandma, golf, and those disgusting pimple-popping videos.
Anything to stop whatever is happening in my gym shorts.
It only takes a minute before I’m able to stand and get the fuck out of here.
My mind is all over the place on the way home.
How can Amber’s opinion mess with my head so much?
She’s just jealous; it’s not real. She has me doubting everything now.
I would know if I was in love with Bryce.
So what if my dick got hard once watching him get changed—that doesn’t mean anything.
He was wearing boxer briefs, for Christ’s sake.
They leave nothing to the imagination. It happens to all guys at least once, right?
When I walk through our apartment door, I see Bryce sitting on the couch eating cereal in his boxers. Fuck my life. Talk about testing me.
“Hey, Bode. Have a good workout?”
“Hey. Nah, not feeling well,” I quickly blurt out before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and practically running to my room. The last fucking thing I need is for Bryce to see my dick getting hard for him.
When I’m safely locked away in my room, I crawl under my covers in hopes of sleeping the rest of the day away.
Unfortunately, the jiggling of my door handle is immediately followed by a concerned Bryce—still half-naked.
“Why was your door locked? Your door is never locked unless she’s here, and she’s clearly not.”
“How did you get in if it was locked?”
“Bode, these are privacy door handles,” he says, pointing at the lever. “You can use a knife or even your fingernail to turn this. Did you not know that?”
“No.” I sound like a pouting child, but I don’t care. I nestle deeper under the covers. “Doesn’t matter, I just wanted to be alone.”
His bare footsteps on the wood floors get closer to the bed, and I know he’s not going to let this go.
“Bodie, is this about you and Amber breaking up, or about what she said?” he says as he lifts the blanket enough for him to see me.
“No. I’m just tired.”
“You’re pouting, Bode.” The chill in the air when the covers disappear annoys me at first, so I fight to stay in control, attempting to cover myself back up.
“Leave me alone. I want to sleep.”
“Nope. Out of bed.” Bryce throws the covers across the room. “Now. I’m not letting you stew about this on your own.”
“What is there to talk about?” I sit up enough for him to take me seriously.
“She broke up with me. I’m supposedly head over heels in love with you.
And you won’t let me sleep. There. Those are the facts.
You happy? Are we done now?” The wide eyes and slack jaw on Bryce make me feel guilty for raising my voice—it’s not something I do often—and it doesn’t help he’s still without a shirt.
We’re locked in a stare-down, only because I’m terrified of what might happen if I look right at his abs or thighs again.
Fuck, they’re boxer briefs—the outline of his dick would be staring me right in the face.
Except, I just did. Straight guys shouldn’t get hard-ons from staring at their best friend’s dickprint, should they?
Cheese and rice, what the fuck did I just do?