Maybe one day, when the dust clears, we can somehow try to make this work… Fuck! I can’t think about this right now. I need to get my shit and leave. I need to protect them. That’s my priority.
I grab the couple items of mine from the office and leave the key on the desk, then head home. Fuck, home. Soon it won’t be my home anymore. I’ll be back to being on my own. The thought makes my heart clench in my chest. Those few years on the road, I missed having a real home. Growing up, my dad was always gone, but Brayden’s family welcomed me into their home, and after my dad passed away, my grandma did the best she could, providing me with a place to lay my head. But nothing felt as much like a home as the apartment I share with Ashton, Mia, and Brayden—might as well say he lives there since most of his shit is in my room and he hasn’t slept in the dorms since we got together.
Body numb, I make the quick walk to the apartment so I can pack my shit. I didn’t come here with much, since I wasn’t sure if I was going to stay, so there isn’t much to pack. When I get home, the apartment is thankfully empty. Brayden’s right, I’m taking the coward’s way out by running, but it’s the only way.
I stalk through the living room, trying not to focus on the little things, like the plates in the sink from breakfast this morning, where Ashton made us all pancakes and then proceeded to lick the syrup off our bodies. My dick—and heart—swells at the memory. I’ll never be able to look at syrup the same way again.
I step into my room and glance around, my stomach bottoming out when I notice all of Brayden’s stuff mixed in with mine. His Ice Hawk’s hoodie hanging over my desk chair. His beanies tossed haphazardly on the bedside table and dresser. His schoolbooks splayed out across my desk.
I get choked up as I remember the way he lay across my bed last night studying with Mia for their finals while I worked on plays for our upcoming game. My eyes go to the floor where Ashton’s Xbox rests. Since I have the desk and told them I needed to work, they all piled in here. I only got a little bit of work done before they lured me to bed and we made love.
Raw emotion claws at my throat, knowing there’s a chance I may never lie in bed with them again. If I had known this morning would be the last time the four of us would be together, I would’ve kissed them harder, held them tighter. I would’ve made sure to tell them how much I love them.
I grab my duffle bag and make quick work of stuffing my clothes inside. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, making it hard to breathe. Every second in here with my memories is making me weak. I throw my toiletries inside and figure anything else I might need I can buy once I get to where I’m going.
Hopefully this is just temporary…
As I’m zipping up my bag, my breathing becomes labored. I take several gulps of air, but I can’t catch my breath. Fuck, my heart hurts.
I reach for my phone to try to call… someone.
“Drew!” Ashton barks, the door slamming closed. “I know you’re here and Brayden told me the shit you’re trying to pull.” He steps into view as my vision goes blurry. “Sorry, man, but we’re not letting you… Drew.” He eyes me with concern. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“My…” I stumble forward, dropping my phone. “I can’t…” I gasp for air. “My heart.”Twenty Minutes AgoPointing. Laughing. Pitying looks. Whispering.
I reach the end of the pool, launch myself out of the water, and stalk over to Travis, who sits on the bleachers wearing a shit-eating grin.
“What the fuck did you do?” I growl, flinging off my goggles and yanking off my swim cap.
He sneers at me. “When you point at someone, you have four fingers pointing back.”
“Three, you fucking moron,” I growl.
“It’s a figure of speech, not literally—”
“I don’t give a fuck. Tell me what you did.”
He smirks, shrugging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
As some kid passes, I grab his phone out of his hand. Just like I suspected. The video that was sent to me has now apparently been sent everywhere based on the looks I’m getting.
I toss the phone back at the kid. “Delete that shit.”
“Sure, man,” he grumbles.
Swiveling around, my hands fisted, I snarl at Travis. But he’s gone. Took off like a fucking pussy. I’m going to destroy him. I stalk over to my bag and throw my hoodie and sweats on over my soaked body. By the time I locate my phone, I have a million missed texts and calls from Mia, Brayden, and Dad.