Bound Together (Torn and Bound Duet 2)

Drew.

For most of my life, it’s been Drew.

A beautiful, sweet girl and a hot, sarcastic asshole aren’t going to change that.

“Drew,” I mutter, wanting nothing more than to close this divide between us.

He uncrosses his arms and starts to turn to go back inside. On impulse, I grab his hand. It’s warm and strong in my own. He doesn’t pull away, which feels like progress.

“Tell me we’re okay. Say it again,” I plead.

His jaw clenches, but his thumb is gentle as it strokes my hand. “We’re okay.”

Uncertainty flickers in his blue eyes, unsettling me.

“Bye, Bray.”

I reluctantly release his hand, hating how cold I feel when our connection is severed. “Bye, Drew.”

I’m still staring his way when the door closes in my face. Resolve begins to build up inside me, fiery and hot. Sure, over the years Drew and I have danced around this thing that has always seemed inevitable between us. At certain times, our grief only stirred up the messy emotions, never letting them settle. Anger took the wheel more often than not.

But now?

Now we’re back on the path to an us.

I can feel it with utmost certainty.

It’s going to be rocky as fuck, but our path so far has been that way.

Who wants a smooth road when they could take the bumpy, frustrating road with Drew Thompson?

I’ve fought tooth and nail to get to where I am with hockey.

I’ll do the same for him because I’m tired of pretending like he doesn’t mean the entire fucking world to me. I’m tired of this push and pull. I’m going to fight for him rather than against him. It’s about damn time, too.

We’re going to be okay, Drew.

Just wait and see.“He said he’s sorry,” Drew says, closing the door. He glances at me with the saddest eyes and I hate that I’m being a coward and forcing him to run interference. I might’ve been hurt by what Ashton and Brayden did, but so was Drew.

I bring my knees up to my chest and encircle my arms around them. “I heard… Thank you for that.” I nod toward the door. “I know eventually I’m going to have to talk to them.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Drew says, sitting back down and wrapping his comforting arms around me. “And you don’t have to rush to see or speak to anyone. They’ll both be here when you’re ready.”

“Have you, um, spoken to either of them?” I look up at him and he nods solemnly.

“A little. I saw Ashton this morning when I went home to get ready for practice.”

“How is he?” I shouldn’t care how he’s doing, but I can’t help it. I know how my best friend is, and he doesn’t handle shit well.

“Not good,” Drew says truthfully. “Beating himself up in typical Ashton fashion. Blamed himself and called himself a fuck-up.” The thought of not being able to hug my best friend makes me sad. One of the reasons Ashton and I clicked was because we’re the same: both natural loners. Right now, I have Drew, but who does Ashton have? Who will be there to talk him down, to hold him the way Drew is holding me? He’s not a fuck-up. He’s just confused, the way we all are. The only difference is, where I think through every decision I make—from years of my mom berating me over every bad choice—Ashton flies by the seat of his pants. It’s one of the things I love about him… and it’s also what led to him hurting me.

“Saw Brayden at practice,” Drew adds, snapping me from my thoughts. He’s quiet for several seconds before he continues. “When we were younger, the reason we stopped talking was because Brayden kissed me.” My mind goes back to the night Brayden and I talked while he was visiting me in California. He told me about this, and I couldn’t help thinking how similar our situations were. Best friends torn apart all because of a kiss—an act of love. Something that should bring two people together, instead tore them apart.

“I ran because I was scared of what that kiss would mean,” he says, looking down at me. “We were best friends and with one kiss, everything changed. I just kept thinking, if I reciprocate, will that make me gay? Or bi? Back then athletes weren’t gay… well, at least not publicly, and I was scared of what my dad and the kids at school would say.”

Drew releases me slightly so we can face each other. His features are etched with pain, and I can tell he’s been holding this all in for years.

“You were young,” I tell him. “And being different is scary.”

“Maybe, but Brayden put his heart on the line twice for me. Once when we were thirteen and again when my dad died. He kissed me twice, not giving a shit about the consequences or what people might think. We both felt it, this pull between us, but he wasn’t scared to act on it. And I ran like a fucking coward.”