When it’s clear Micah doesn’t plan on letting me go anytime soon, Hendrix places a hand on the back of Micah’s neck and pulls him away from me. “I’m a professional football player, too, you know,” he grouses. “And I know way more than just your name.”
Was that an innuendo?
My stomach turns to lead, and my dinner threatens to make a second appearance. I really need to make things right with Hendrix. “Micah, do you mind if I steal R—uh, Hendrix for a minute or two? I promise to return him to you soon.”
“Introduce me to Ezekiel Aleks first, and you can have Rix as long as you want him.” Micah eyes my best friend standing near the grill.
I chuckle because it feels like the appropriate response, but his words are a tad confusing for a guy in a relationship. Still, it could just be a harmless joke—like maybe he’s a fan. Except . . . my parents said he doesn’t know anything about football. But he went to all of Hendrix’s football games, so how does he not know?
“Micah.” Hendrix used his hold on the back of his companion’s neck to tug him in close—closer than I have seen him with anyone else on the team. “Behave.” The command is a low growl, and the way my blood rushes south in response is downright sinful.
“I will, I will,” Micah assures before shimmying away, not waiting for an introduction to join Aleks’ group at the grill.
Hendrix has to pull me from observing Micah by asking, “What?”
I look at him, taking in his crossed arms and no-nonsense expression. “Can we talk?” I glance around the crowded yard before adding, “Privately.”
His hands disappear in the pockets of his jeans, and he shrugs, not offering a word.
“Follow me?”
A nod.
Jesus, I forgot how silent and rigid Hendrix can be.
I intend to just step inside my living room, but it seems Aleks made good on his idea to invite some of the Treasures. They fill my downstairs level, so I try the second floor, chancing a look behind me to ensure Hendrix is still following. Upstairs, some of the Rubies have taken over my gaming area, and I have no other choice than to bring him into my bedroom.
It seems kind of counterproductive to add to the already tenuous situation from last week, but it is my only option at the moment. I need to get this off my chest.
Hendrix steps inside, and I gently pull the door closed. The music from downstairs becomes muffled, the air inside the room suddenly stifling.
How do I say this?
“Uh . . . So . . .”
He stares at me with that deadpan expression he is so good at.
I take a deep, steadying breath and then blurt, “I am so sorry for hugging you while lying down, which made it seem like cuddling, and then falling asleep on you. I know it was purely platonic for both of us, but it was—unintentionally—disrespectful to your boyfriend. I totally understand why you’ve been distant. I just hope I haven’t ruined our potential friendship.”
CHAPTER 10
TAHEGIN ELLINGSWORTH
Hendrix’s face does change now. It’s minuscule, but his brows move slightly closer together, and his lips part the tiniest bit. “My what?” His voice is low. Gravelly. The kind I’d love to hear while in a bedroom—in a different situation, that is. “Wait, you think Micah and I are . . .”
My expression mirrors his but with more emotion. “Y’all aren’t?”
“Why would you think—”
“Well, because your jersey—”
“But I’m not even—”
“You aren’t? But you kissed Aleks—”
“To shut him up. It wasn’t— I’m not— I mean, I’m straight.”
I gape. Then have to clarify, just to be sure. “You’re straight.”
He nods.
“But you let me fall asleep cuddling you.”
One eyebrow ticks upward, the smallest of movements. “I thought it was a hug.”
Heat warms my cheeks, and I’m thankful my bronze skin hides the blush spreading across my face. Still, I nervously press cool fingers to my cheeks and grin sheepishly. “Uh . . . yeah. Well, that’s all it was. I was sick and didn’t mean to fall asleep, and then Kiss said— Hey, wait. Why have you been ignoring me this week?”
It’s his turn to blush, the rouge color blooming beneath his fair skin, clear as day. “Oh, Micah—he’s my, um, my Aleks, I guess. Anyway, he said since you’re gay—”
“Bi,” I correct.
He nods. “Right. Micah said since you’re bi, me staying the night—in your bed—might have meant something, um, different to you. I wasn’t sure how to navigate that, so I thought I’d do what I do best.”
“Ignore me?”
His response is an almost soundless “Yeah.”
“So . . . why did you come up here with me? Weren’t you worried I’d try to have my wicked way with you?”
