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“Only because you couldn’t stop talking about him the entire summer. Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’m positive. What left nothing to doubt was the raw anger in his eyes as if we were in that King’s Shield’s hallway once again when I blocked his way only to tell him how desperate he was for attention.”

“It happened a long time ago George, we all made mistakes in high school.”

“Not like this. Where did he go?”

“Why? What are you planning to do if you find him?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Apologize.” I shrugged.

Sam snorted. “Yeah, with the anger you just described, you think he’s just waiting to hear your apology. He’s more likely to tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“I have to try, man. I went too far. He quit school, and I think it was because of me.”

“No, Brooks. It was because of fucking Sullivan.”

“I stood by Edwin Sullivan while he accused Santiago. I called him a pretentious little fuck.”

“Pretentious? What?”

“I told you, I went too far. I practically harassed him until he transferred.” I started walking toward the cafeteria, my heart hammering against my ribs. Not just from the anticipation of apologizing for an unforgivable act, but from the way my body had just reacted to seeing him. I knew I liked guys. I'd even gone to a gay club last summer and had an addictive spree of fucks, but I'd never felt a hit of pure, unfiltered desire like this. Not for anyone. And definitely not for him.

I shook my head. “I was just excited,” I muttered to myself as I entered the campus food court. That was the only place he could have headed so fast. I had to find him.

THE AIR OVER BY THE Second Cup felt thin as my eyes searched for Sig’s black hoodie and his long legs in skinny jeans. Just as I thought I’d lost him, a sharp tap landed on my arm. I turned, expecting to see Sam, but my heart nearly stopped.

“Looking for me, George Brooks?”

His striking golden eyes locked onto mine, flickering with a sharp, dangerous challenge.

“Isn’t this my lucky day? Are you here to tell me what a liar I am, or how pretentious I can be? Or do you just want to know how many hours I spend in front of the mirror?” His lips pouted in a smug, practiced taunt. Even with his leaner build, his presence was intimidating. He’d grown taller since the last time I saw him, filling out beautifully, but my massive frame still completely towered over him. I had to look down past his shoulder line to catch the full, venomous heat of his accusing gaze.

I’d said every single one of those cruel things to Sig back when we were in high school. Now, hearing them thrown back in my face, each word felt like a block of lead sinking deep into my stomach. But this wasn’t about managing my own guilt anymore. This was about the absolute wreckage I’d left in my wake, and I had to own it.

“Go on, Brooks. Tackle me. Give me your best shot.”

I lowered my eyes, my voice barely a whisper. “I wanted to apologize.”

“What did you say?” He stepped closer, forcing me to meet his gaze. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, like a glimpse of heaven in the middle of a crowded cafe. He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, waiting.

“I came to apologize. I mean, I didn’t come to this college just to apologize. I go here. I’m on the football team.” His brow furrowed, and I realized too late that the football team was the last thing he wanted to hear about. “Right. Sorry. I saw you, and I thought—”

“You thought you’d apologize.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “By all means, let’s sit down.”

I couldn’t believe my luck. Was Sig really going to listen? I watched as he walked with a confident sway in his hips toward a corner booth. I followed quickly, feeling oversized and clumsy as I slid into the seat across from him.

He looked just like he did in high school, only... more. The makeup was bolder, his eyeliner sharper, and his presence was cold enough to bite. But he was just as beautiful as I remembered.

I, on the other hand, felt like a cliché. I was still the same, broad-shouldered and earnest, wearing a letterman jacket that felt like a second skin.

"I honestly didn't think you'd agree to sit down with me,” I stammered, my hands nervously shredding a paper napkin. "After what I did... after what I said about you just wanting attention. When I realized my mistake.” I exhaled waiting for him to fill the gap, but he didn’t. No one was going to help me here, I had to own up to my sins. “I was a fucking asshole, Sig. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

Sig frowned, then his eyes glittered, as he offered a slow, practiced smile. He reached across the table and placed a hand over mine. The heat of his touch surged through me. His fingers were slender and a shade tanner than mine; they were perfect.

“It was high school, George. You fell for Edwin’s lie just like everyone else. I’m just glad the truth finally came out."

I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since the day the truth about Edwin Sullivan broke. The guilt of what I’d put Sig through had been suffocating. "I want to make it up to you. Anything."