Chapter 13
Noah
Ijolt awake in the middle of the night, my body slick with sweat as the lewd dream repeats in my subconscious. Sitting up, I run a hand over my face, trying to calm my pounding heart.
Zac is sleeping peacefully on the other bed, one hand resting behind his head, the other draped over his naked chest. He’s kicked the sheets off during the night, and I can’t help but run my eye over his sculpted body, my gaze lingering on the spot between his legs.
My dick throbs, and I swallow, hating myself. I can’t be attracted to my teammate. It’s not the lingering thoughts of Zac that have me thickening in my boxers.
If anyone finds out, it will be Nathan and Perth all over again. He wasn’t my teammate, but the outcome will still be the same.
Fuck.
Nathan.
Pain shoots through my chest, and I gasp.
No.
No, no, no.
Not now.
Stumbling out of bed, I try to be quiet as I rush into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.
I don’t bother with the light, not wanting to look at my reflection in the mirror.
Breathing heavily, I fumble around in my toiletry bag, pulling out my disposable razor.
My hands shake as I snap the plastic off and remove the blade.
Sliding my sleep shorts off, I press the blade to my skin at the top of my right thigh, careful not to let it slip.
I don’t want to slice myself open; I only need the bite of pain to soothe the guilt swirling in my gut over what my dad did to Nathan.
Cutting isn’t about hurting myself. It’s about taking the edge off the ache in my heart and the unbearable feeling of loss and shame.
The first cut doesn’t suffice, so I move to the other side, hissing in a sharp breath at the sting.
When that doesn’t work, I wrap the evidence in a bunch of toilet paper and hide it in the bottom of the rubbish bin before fumbling with the tap for the shower, turning the cold water on all the way and stepping under the icy stream.
It’s a shock to the system, but I force myself to stay under the spray, clenching my jaw as my body shivers from the cold.
I haven’t had a nightmare this bad since that first night at Euphoria when I ran off and left Romeo on his knees. Guilt coils tight in my stomach, and I wrap one arm around my middle as I lean the other against the slippery tiles.
Fuck.
My teeth chatter, and I hunch over, trying to draw a breath. Every muscle in my body has drawn tight, but I welcome the discomfort. I deserve it for what happened.
After what feels like forever, I finally turn the water off. With shaking hands, I wrap a towel around my waist before stepping out carefully, trying not to slip on the wet tiles. Searching my toiletry bag for the bottle of antiseptic, I clean my wounds and place a Band-Aid on them.
My heart rate has returned to a somewhat normal cadence, but the memories still haunt me. I open the bathroom door slowly, stepping back into the dark motel room. A light snaps on, and I wince as my eyes adjust.
“What’s going on?” Zac pushes himself up, rubbing a hand over his face. His eyes dart to the clock on the bedside table, and groans. “It’s two-thirty. What are you doing up?”
“N-nothing,” I say through chattering teeth. “B-bad dream. G-go b-back to s-sleep.”
His eyes widen as he takes in my shivering body. “Christ, Noah. Were you under a cold shower the whole time?”
I ignore him, grabbing a pair of boxers and pulling them on under my towel.
“What the fuck?”
I turn my back on him, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. But when I face him again, the concern in his grey eyes nearly sends me into another panic attack. “D-don’t look at me like th-that.”
“Like what?” he asks warily. “Like you’re an idiot who’s minutes away from collapsing from hypothermia?”
“I’m f-fine,” I lie. “It’s n-no different to a c-cold plunge.”
He narrows his eyes but doesn’t call me out on my bullshit. Instead, he says two words that damn near bring me to my knees. “Who’s Nathan?”
The oxygen evaporates from the room, and my chest constricts.
“W-what?” I choke out. My legs give out from under me, and I collapse onto my bed, dropping my head into my hands.
Zac doesn’t give up though. “Who’s Nathan? I heard you calling his name in your sleep earlier.”
Shit.
This isn’t happening.
I didn’t want anyone to know about the nightmares.
“You can talk to me.” Zac’s voice is softer now. “Who is he?”
“He was a friend.” The lie tastes like acid on my tongue.
“Was?” The pity in Zac’s tone twists my stomach, and I know I need to shut this down. He can think whatever he wants. I refuse to voice what happened in Perth out loud.
“Please drop it.”
I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’ll listen to me.
He releases a heavy sigh. “Sorry, man.”
“Thanks. Can you please not bring it up ever again?”
Zac hesitates, and I lift my head, hating the anguish in his eyes. Finally, he nods. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Okay, but if you ever need anyone to talk to—”
“I’m good.”
He nods again.
My body temperature is slowly rising, and I climb into the bed fully clothed, turning my back to Zac. I feel his heavy gaze on me, but then the light flicks off and we’re plunged into darkness.
“Zac?” I murmur.
“Yeah?”
“Can we keep this between us?”
Silence stretches, wrapping around me thick and strong. But then his voice cuts through the darkness. “I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you.”
I lie on my back, listening as his breathing eventually evens out, and he drifts off to sleep.
Zac Kincaid is now in possession of one of my biggest secrets, even if he doesn’t know. I should be terrified, but for some reason, I’m not.
I can’t run from my past forever. At some point, I have to face it.