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“How’d you know that?” I asked in disbelief. “It was years ago.”

“Larkin told me.”

I huffed and scrubbed a hand over my face, turning for the door again. This place, seriously. Everyone was obsessed with gossip, and everyone seemed to find out absolutely everything that happened here.

Which meant I’d definitely been smart in deleting that footage. I could just see it getting out somehow if I hadn’t.

It also meant that it definitely, absolutely could not happen again.

And I meant it this time. Really.

Chapter Sixteen

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Crossbody

Our ‘redemption match’ on Sunday went fine.

Better than fine, in fact. It was ‘riveting,’ according to Holt, when he came into the backstage area after the show ended to congratulate us all.

“I think you’ve found your groove,” he told me and Vince, looking far happier and more relaxed than last week. “That was electrifying. Great stuff. We could really feel the tension, like you both had something to prove. Which you did,” he added in a sterner voice. “I’m not going to tell you good job for sticking to the script this time, because that should be a fucking given.”

“They’ve been beyond professional in rehearsals, Holt,” Corey said, shooting us both a warm smile. “Receptive to feedback, efficient and working together seamlessly. I’m very impressed.”

“Fantastic.” Holt looked over expectantly and gestured between us. “So does that mean you’re… you know, getting along better?”

“No,” I said before Vince could answer, even though I knew it would be better to lie. But I just couldn’t bring myself to say that I had any kind of common ground with him. “But I think we’ve proven that we don’t let it affect our work.”

Corey sighed as he exchanged a look with Holt. Vince had his arms crossed as he leaned against the counter beside Dan, staring vacantly at the floor.

His long hair was damp from a shower, dark tendrils sticking to his neck and bare shoulders. He was shirtless, once again wearing only a towel slung low on his narrow hips. My fingers flexed when I found my gaze darting down to the lines of lean muscle disappearing under the knotted towel. I knew that just an inch or so lower there was a patch of trimmed, silky dark hair framing the base of his cock.

Heat crept up my neck as I quickly looked away. I shouldn’t have known that. And I certainly shouldn’t have been thinking about it.

My gaze darted back to him. He looked tired, the smudges that were permanently under his eyes darker than normal. The overhead lighting in the room cast shadows on his lean cheeks, his cheekbones high and prominent. There was a faint furrow between his dark brows, but otherwise his face was expressionless.

We hadn’t really spoken in days. Since that night in the arena. We’re barely talked during our rehearsals, and had both tried to aim any comments or questions we had at either Hogbody or Corey. We hadn’t even really made eye contact unless it was absolutely necessary.

I’d been sleeping terribly, and I didn’t know why. The silence in my house each night as I lay in bed had been pressing on my eardrums, making me tense and restless until I finally got up to distract myself. But now that our match was over, perhaps this restlessness would finally settle and go away. We’d proven ourselves to Holt. We’d done our jobs without any mishaps—at least, none that anyone knew about. Things would surely start going back to normal, and I could write this whole… thing off as an extended lapse in judgement.

Everything would go back to normal now, with Vince and I simply despising each other and nothing more. Nothing else. No other… encounters.

I was sure of it.

—

When I got to work on Monday morning, I walked into the main backstage area and found most of the others gathered around something on the wall.

Vince was among them, so I hesitated before making my way over. I was one of the taller people here, so I was able to see over most heads and spot four new posters pinned to the wall. They looked like the promotional posters for each of us that lined the hallway leading to the arena.

It didn’t take me long to realise what they were.

“Are these the new wrestlers?” I asked curiously, then tensed when I saw Vince’s shoulders stiffen slightly at the sound of my voice.

Usually, if I dared speak among the group, he immediately shot a snarky and sarcastic remark back at me. Even when it was a simple, innocent question.

He made me feel like an outsider here more than anyone else.