AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Someone who might understand how it feels. Sympathetic I am, but I haven’t been there. I’m not a competitive athlete.
“Did you discuss therapy?”
“Jesus,” Drew snaps, running a hand through his hair. The golden-brown ends stick up at the top. He falls back against the counter and glares. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
Of course not. He never does. I open my mouth to tell him as much when the door opens.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Gray saunters in with a big bag of groceries under his arm. Oblivious, he sets it on the counter. “You.” He points a finger at me. “Forgot to pick me up.”
I wince. “Oh, hell, Gray. I’m sorry. I got distracted.”
“Yeah, yeah, just leave the poor, defenseless tight end sitting on the curb while you get busy with the QB.”
He grins though before giving me a kiss hello on the cheek.
Over his shoulder, Drew’s scowl deepens as he glares pointedly at my cheek. A prickle of annoyance hits me. So I can overlook his slutty ex rubbing herself against him, but he’s pissy about a kiss on the cheek? I glare back, as Gray turns and gives Drew a pat on the shoulder.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?”
“Great.” Drew sounds like he’s grinding down a tooth.
If Gray notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Cool. But hold up, I’ve got to piss like you wouldn’t believe.”
Drew rolls his eyes as Gray runs off to the bathroom. “Why did you invite him here?”
“Hush.” I give his waist a quick pinch, and he yelps, skirting away from my reach. “He’s here because he’s your friend, you ass.”
“He’s just feeling sorry for me.”
“Well, who wouldn’t when you’ve decided to revert to being five?”
Drew gives me a warning look, which I ignore.
“He’s here because he cares. And since when have you not liked Gray’s company?”
“Since he started kissing my girl?” he offers with false pleasantness.
I gape at him. This isn’t Drew. He isn’t overly possessive or irrational. He doesn’t turn on friends.
“You’re going to regret that statement,” I tell him quietly. “You’re going to realize what a shit you’re being.”
His lips flatten into a line, but Gray’s already walking down the back hall. He eyes us but doesn’t miss a step. “Now, then,” he says as if nothing’s wrong. “Let’s get cooking.”
Drew is sullen, as Gray cooks. He’s sullen when we sit down to dinner. And he’s sullen when we eat it.
My hand clenches around my napkin, the urge to chuck it at his head running high.
All I can do is struggle to keep the strained conversation going with Gray.
“All right,” I tell Gray. “You make an admirable lasagna. It’s not as good as my mom’s, but it will do.”
“Don’t kill me with praise now.” Gray laughs then shakes his head. “I’m not trying to beat your Italian mama in a lasagna cook-off, Jones.”
Drew scoffs. The sound sudden and harsh. “‘Jones’?”
Jones is his nickname for me. But I hadn’t thought he’d be territorial about it.
He levels a look at Gray, and my chest grows tight. “And here I thought you didn’t like my girl.”
