Torn Apart (Torn and Bound Duet 1)

Am I willing to destroy our friendship to use her to test out new avenues regarding my sexuality?

Absolutely not.

Why?

Because I love her.

Back to square fucking one.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” I grumble.

“I brought food. Overheard that you were hungry and that Mia was bailing on you,” Drew says as he opens my door. “Hope you like peanut butter and jelly.”

Under any other circumstances, a hot half-naked coach bringing me food in bed would have me giddy and blow-job ready in three seconds.

This isn’t under normal circumstances, though.

I’m in the fucking Twilight Zone.

“You okay?” he asks, approaching the bed, a frown on his handsome face.

“Not really.”

To my surprise, he hands me the plate and sits down on my bed beside me. With our backs against the headboard and legs stretched out in front of us, I eat my sandwich in silence, pouting. When I finish, he lets out a sigh.

“Spill. Your thoughts are loud and you clearly need someone to talk to. I’m here. Ready and waiting.”

I can’t help but glance over his broad, sculpted chest. Heat prickles across my flesh, only further reminding me that I like guys, not girls, and this whole Mia thing is a mess.

“Mia left in such a hurry that night with you because she…” I trail off, unable to figure out how to explain this. “She’s my best friend. But…”

“She’s hot?” he offers.

A laugh barks out of me. “Yeah, if you’re into girls.”

“But you’re not?”

“Nope.” I set my plate down on my end table and start fidgeting with the drawstrings of my sweats. “But she’s not like other girls.”

“That, I can agree on.”

“Sorry,” I grumble. “This is weird for you.”

“Weird, sure, but nothing I can’t handle. My whole life’s been weird and fucked-up. At this point, I roll with the punches.”

I study his sad, forced grin. It makes my chest tighten. If I wasn’t feeling selfish and sorry for myself, I’d pry into the mystery that is Drew. One day, whether he likes it or not, I will.

“She came onto me. Kissed me. It got hot. You walked in on the tail end of it.”

“Not awkward at all,” he deadpans, making us both laugh.

“I’ve never felt that way about a girl. She consumed me in that moment…”

“But?”

“But then reality hit. I reminded myself I was gay.”

“So you’re a labels guy then, huh?”

I frown at him. “What?”

“The kind of guy who sticks everyone into a category. Mia: best friend and a girl. Brayden: asshole jock. Me: dad’s live-in spy.” He smirks at me. “You: openly gay, sarcastic little shit.”

My lips curl into a wicked grin. “You forgot to add hot for me.”

“And hot,” he indulges, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. “Sound about right?”

“It’s why I love psychology. Everyone has a warning label.”

“Warning labels, huh?”

“Yep.”

“What exactly are you protecting yourself from, Dr. Carter?”

I bristle at his words. “I just like knowing what people are so I can deal with them.”

“What if people are more than one thing? What if they’re not bad?”

“You’re starting to sound a lot like my therapist.”

“You deflect with jokes and sarcasm. You’re cynical and standoffish. People want in, Ashton, but you won’t let them because you’re a pussy.”

“Fuck off. Is this the shitty pep talks you give your players? If so, you should rethink your methods.”

“If you like Mia, then go after the fucking girl, man. Ignore the labels you’ve placed on each of you and just let your feelings guide you.”

His words burrow their way deep inside me.

“Too late,” I tell him bitterly. “Already let her go off on a date with your bestie Brayden.”

He tenses at the mention of Brayden, which only makes me want to pick at that scab more.

“What’s your story with him anyway? No offense, but I like you. How were you two ever anything that would require you to be protective over him even when he’s a total dick to you?” I ask, frowning at him. “I’m not blind. You want to be in his life in some capacity and he blocks you out.”

Drew drags his palm down his face before turning his icy blue eyes my way. “He was my best friend. We were competitive as shit, but when it came down to it, we had each other’s backs.”

“Until?”

He searches my eyes for a long moment before putting it in a way I completely understand. “I was a labels guy too.” He shakes his head in frustration. “I’m trying like hell to get my friend back. It’s probably too little too late, but I’m going to damn well try.”

“Need me to run interference?”

He frowns.

“Whatever. I don’t know jock sports jargon. I’m asking, do you want me to help? Not that I can talk to him, but I could probably terrorize him enough to send him your way needing a friend.” I chuckle darkly. “It’s the least I could do for him stealing my girl.”