“Don’t you want to celebrate?” I ask, voice low and smooth as I slide one hand slowly down his chest.
Hendrix looks past me to where Jay sits in the driver’s seat, studiously watching the road. He’d driven us to the game earlier, and Hendrix had spent the entire trip absolutely appalled that I didn’t always drive myself everywhere.
Hey, parking is a bitch sometimes.
Apparently, Hendrix still isn’t over it, which is proof enough when he dodges my advances. Literally swerves so my lips fall upon his cheek instead of his mouth. Hurt, I sit far back onto my side of the car again. “Rix.” I can hear the pain in my tone.
He rubs his hands over his face with a groan. “I’m sorry, T. I didn’t mean it like that. Tonight was just . . . a lot.”
It was. After the game, we had interviews upon interviews, each one asking the same questions with different wording over and over again. Hendrix and I were separated before I could even get a proper hug—much less sneak away for a more intimate celebration—and by the time we found each other again, we’d both showered and changed out of our uniforms. Aleks and I had another interview while Hendrix stood in the back, scowling at everyone because he’d long since been ready to go. Everything was just more today due to us making it into the playoffs as the number one seed.
“Your pick was great,” he says while attempting a smile. “I was so happy for you. And proud. I wanted to tell everyone, ‘That’s my Tahegin.’”
“You should have,” I tease. The ball had practically teleported into my hand in the third quarter, and I’d taken it all the way to the end zone for six points. As soon as I crossed that line, I turned and looked for Hendrix. I wanted to celebrate with him, but he was where he always was, standing at a distance from the rest of our teammates.
And that was okay. I figured we could make up for lost time once we were alone in my car, but . . .
Hendrix sighs. “Look, I’m probably just going to Uber to my apartment when we get back to yours.”
“You don’t want to stay for the party?”
“I need some time away from people.”
“From me?”
“Tahegin.” He shakes his head, breathing another heavy sigh. “It’s not like that.”
Maybe it isn’t, but it sure feels that way. He won’t kiss me, won’t stay for a party where we usually sneak off to be alone together. It’s hard not to think the worst—that he wants to call this whole thing off.
“Okay,” I agree after a moment, but the word sounds hollow between us. “But we can drop you off on the way. No reason to make you pay for a car service.”
Jay clicks on the turn signal at my words, exiting the highway as I spout off Hendrix’s address.
Hendrix quietly thanks me, and we sit in silence for the rest of the drive. It’s tense, though I try to convince myself that I’m only imagining it, that everything is fine. My hand rests on the seat between us, but Hendrix doesn’t make any move to hold it, not even to brush our fingers together.
When we get to his apartment building, Hendrix turns for the door handle. He has one foot outside when he pauses, looking first at Jay, then at me. Quick as lightning, he darts toward me and lands a haphazard peck on my lips. His cheeks are pink as he exits and walks inside, but I’m smiling even bigger than I was when we first got in the car.
He still wants me. He might be nervous around other people, but he put aside his worries to offer me the one thing he knew I wanted, and that’s enough to convince me that everything is okay for now.
✧ ✧ ✧
“Ugh, what year is it?” someone groans.
“The year of the Rubies,” a half-hearted someone-else sheers weakly from across the room.
I chuckle, disturbing something heavy on my stomach. Peeking out of blurry contacts, I spy a messy mop of purple and recall Micah passing out on me sometime during karaoke last night.
The rest of the room looks as chaotic as I remember it being before I ultimately fell asleep, too. Several of my teammates are scattered about the game room in varying stages of unconscious to almost awake. Aleks is beside me, scrolling on his phone. He didn’t drink as much as usual, so it makes sense he’s up earlier than everyone else. Currently, he is googling how to recover from a sore back, and, shifting my body on the floor, yeah, that tracks.
“Mornin’,” I mumble in his direction.
My best friend seems way too awake when he looks at me, and I am immediately on edge. “Hey,” he grunts, sounding distracted. His eyes flicker to Micah, still passed out on my stomach, with a guarded expression.
I raise my hands, careful not to disturb the sleeping man on me. “Nothing happened,” I insist. “I promise I didn’t try anything on your man.”
“No, I know,” Aleks agrees, though he still seems off. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
He struggles with his words for a moment, then whispers so no one can overhear. “Last night . . . Well, everyone got pretty drunk, you know? And Micah, he . . . You saw him give me that lap dance, right? I didn’t know he could move like that, but damn, am I glad I do now.”
Brows furrowed, I nod along, waiting for the problem.
“And then Tank made that joke about Micah giving him one.”
“Uh-huh.” I think I can see where this is going. It’s cute, Aleks wanting to settle down and be all monogamous with Micah.
“And then he did. Micah went over there and . . .”
“You got jealous,” I guess.
“I—” He clears his throat, soft so as not to disturb anyone around us. “No, I . . . the opposite.”
My body unconsciously jerks in surprise as I exclaim a little too loudly. “The opposite?”
With a snort, Micah jolts awake, the crown of his head nearly taking out my nose. “I’m up!”
I pat his shoulder and scoot away as he blinks blearily at us. “False alarm, buddy. Go back to sleep.”
