I try to explain, but she’s already springing forward and grasping the handle before slamming the door shut with a resounding thud.
A tortured sound of humiliation escapes from my lips. “She thinks we were about to have sex.”
“It does appear that way,” Brayden says, humor replacing the thick desire in his voice.
“I’m, ah, leaving now!” Demi’s muffled voice comes from the other side of the door. “So...carry on with whatever was about to happen!”
Oh.
God.
This is truly horrific. And there’s nothing I can do to rectify the situation. If anything, I owe her for the timely interruption. It’s shocking to realize that there’s a good possibility something would have happened between us if she hadn’t barged in. As painful as it is to admit it, Brayden is like the pied piper of pussy, and I was so damn close to falling under his spell.
“Guess we don’t need to worry about people thinking this is a fake relationship, now do we?”
No.
We certainly don’t.
Chapter Sixteen
Brayden
“That practice sucked ass,” I huff, shoving my way inside the locker room along with the other guys. Everyone is bitching and complaining. The closer we get to the playoffs, the harder Coach works us. After four years, I should be used to it. Sweat is beaded across my forehead, has soaked through my pads, and dampens my hair. A hot shower is going to feel so damn good.
Rowan shrugs, looking no worse for the wear. “What are you talking about? It didn’t seem so bad. I barely broke a sweat.”
My eyes narrow. “You know why that is?” I don’t bother to wait for a response. “Because all you do is stand around like a fucking prima donna waiting to unload the ball. My ass is the one running routes and getting into position.”
Not taking offense to my complaint, a grin slides across his face. “Guess you should have been a quarterback. Best position on the team.”
I give him a one-fingered salute.
In all honesty, I can’t criticize the guy. No matter what conference you’re looking at, he’s the best QB in Division I college football. There’s no way he won’t be a first-round draft pick. And if there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s Rowan. He’s worked his ass off to be the best.
That being said, I enjoy giving him shit from time to time. Can’t have him getting too big for his britches, now can I?
By the time I peel off my pads, Rowan is already out of the shower. It’s like his damn ass is on fire. What’s he in such a hurry for?
Never mind. It probably has something to do with Demi. Those two went from spending as little time as possible together to practically being conjoined twins.
“Come on, man. Get a move on it,” he urges, grabbing his boxers from the locker and hauling them up his thighs.
Excuse me?
I hike a brow. “Why?”
He shoots me an exasperated look. “The game starts at seven, and I don’t want to miss any of it.”
“Game?”
What the hell is he talking about?
The only game I’m focused on is the upcoming one this Saturday. Thankfully, we’ll have home field advantage. The cheer of our fans always helps to heighten the energy in the stadium. It’s a point of pride to step on the turf and stare up at the ocean of red and black that surrounds us. There’s nothing more that gets me pumped than the excitement of our fans. It’s electric.
“If you’re gonna go out with Sydney, then you need to step up and show some support. Trust me, it won’t go well for you if your ass isn’t in the stands tonight.” Rowan shakes his head as if I’m a complete moron. “How is it that you get all the chicks but don’t know a damn thing about them?”
I almost snort.
Trust me, I know enough to make them happy. I open my mouth to tell him exactly that when it hits me.
“Oh, right,” I improvise with a nod, “the soccer game. Sure, Sydney mentioned it earlier.” Actually, Sydney didn’t utter one damn peep. Why that should send an arrow of hurt slicing clean through me, I have no idea. We might have cleared the air at the diner, but that doesn’t mean our relationship has changed. She holds me at just as much of a distance as she always has. The girl has so many walls up, she’s like an impenetrable fortress.
Rowan waves his hand. “Great. Now get moving.” He glances at his phone. “We’ve got ten minutes. Coach is already there, waiting for us.”
“All right, all right,” I grumble, realizing that my plans for the night have veered in an unexpected direction. Looks like I’ll be checking out women’s soccer. Should be interesting. Or not. “Let me hop in the shower and then we can take off.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re both freshly washed with our asses parked in the bleachers. The game is just about to get underway. Both teams are out on the field, warming up and taking shots at the net. It doesn’t take long to find Sydney. My gaze homes in on her blonde head. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail as she moves through a defensive drill.