Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

I think Kendrick’s fine, but Blake has been in the game longer than any of us have—although he doesn’t measure up to Kendrick or me in the ring. If Blake says to rest, Kendrick rests. It’s slowly eating at my sanity. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Blake is betting against us.

“You should do the same. Take a shower so you don’t smell like ass tonight,” Alex advises.

“Why? What’s tonight?”

“Are you shitting me? You were there when she invited us.”

I frown. “Who?”

“Zoey.”

It clicks in my mind.

“Zoey… as in Kass’s friend?”

“Yeah. It’s her birthday. She’s got an entire club waiting for us. She knows the owner.”

Right. She came up to us in the hall earlier. I didn’t listen to a single word coming out of her mouth, lost in my head.

“Who’s going to be there?” I ask.

Alex begins listing people I couldn’t give less of a shit about. Then he says the name I’ve been secretly waiting to hear.

Kass’s.

It may sound stupid, because of course she’d attend her best friend’s birthday, but I needed to hear him say it.

“Between us, you could stand to get laid, dude. You’ve been training twice every day this week. Get a life,” Alex mocks.

Oh, the irony. He has no idea I’ve been training every single day precisely because I need to get laid.

Jesus Christ, I’m horny.

Going from having sex regularly to not at all will do that to you. Had to find an outlet for all that frustration. Fighting seems to be the only thing that takes my mind off it. It’s more a temporary fix than a cure, really, but I’ll take anything I can get.

To my surprise, I didn’t hit up Callie—or any of the other girls who could’ve easily helped me with my blue-balls problem. Tried to scratch the itch myself, hoping it’d do the trick.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

The way I left things with Kass hasn’t exactly been helping. This fucking girl could give me blue balls for weeks.

“So, you coming?” Alex questions, slinging his gym bag strap over his shoulder.

I shrug. “Meh. I’ll let you know.”

I highly doubt Kass wants me there, if her ghosting me is anything to go by. Alex nods, walking out of the crass building I’ve grown to know like the back of my hand.

I wait for the roar of his car to fade into the distance and hurry toward the old gym’s showers. The plumbing screeches a high-pitched, hissing sound when I flick the faucet on, leaving me to wonder if this is the day a pipe finally bursts in my face.

I could probably shower at Alex’s, but I’ll die before letting the guys find out about my situation. Before I let anyone find out. I don’t need them. I’ll figure it out on my own.

I always do.

I strip naked, my muscles sore from the five hours I spent wiping my hands with Blake, and toss my phone onto a nearby bench before entering the water.

She hasn’t texted me today.

Or yesterday.