So This Is War

Levi: She knows that I know that she knows.

Penny: That strangely makes sense.

Ollie: How do you know?

Levi: Not much time. Out to dinner with her, she scuttled away and is talking on the phone. Probably to her friend. She keeps looking over at me. No doubt she knows.

Winnie: Think she’ll confront you?

Levi: No, I think she’s going to bring it.

Blakely: What do you mean?

Penny: Like fight your fire with her fire?

Levi: Yup. Queens, prepare yourselves because I think this is the climax. We’re about to walk into dangerous territories.

Ollie: Why am I excited?

Winnie: I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wishing I was a fly on the wall.

Penny: Are you going to hold strong?

Blakely: Or are you going to fold?

Levi: What do you guys think?

Ollie: Hold strong.

Winnie: Don’t cave.

Penny: Do whatever you can not to fuck her, but almost fuck her.

Blakely: This is your moment. Prove to us that you can handle this!

Levi: I will. I can. I shall not break.

Penny: That’s our boy!

Blakely: Make her sweat!

Winnie: Make her yearn.

Ollie: Spank her!

Penny: No spanking, Ollie. But . . . maybe a little accidental choking could work.

Shaking my head, I put my phone in my pocket just as Wylie approaches, and from the gleam in her eye and the smirk on her lips, my assessment is confirmed. We’re in this game together, both aware of what we’re after and ready to play.

And there’s a voice in the back of my head that’s saying, don’t.

That’s reminding me of the repercussions.

That’s telling me this is a bad, bad idea.

But fuck . . . just look at her.

Look at the way she’s strutting toward me, full of confidence.

The grin that tugs at her plump lips.

The sway of those tempting hips.

How could I not play the game?

At least for a moment in time.

A moment when I can forget about what would happen if I took one simple taste.

Who am I kidding? Nothing about this woman is simple.

When she takes a seat at the table, I ask, “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great.” She puts her phone face down and then adjusts her napkin on her lap. “I hope I wasn’t gone too long. A craving of bagels didn’t happen upon you, did it?”

I smile. “Not yet, but I’ll be sure to let you know, maybe around two this morning.”

“I can’t wait. I love getting up in the middle of the night to fetch you breakfast carbs.”

“You know”—I cross my arms over my chest—“I knew you liked it. It was a guess, but that’s why I kept sending you because I thought it fulfilled something within you.”

“Oh, it does. Nothing makes me happier than making you happy.” And then, her foot rubs up against my leg under the table.

Yup.

She’s playing, and I’m all fucking in.

Consider my will being snapped.

My strength weakened.

My need for her too strong.

The question is, who will break first? Because it sure as hell won’t be me.

And just like that, this agony I’ve been living through just got a touch more fun.

“Besides making me happy, what brings you joy, Wylie? What are your hobbies? What do you like to do when you’re not fetching bagels for me?”

She shrugs but continues to rub her foot over my leg under the table, and I just allow it. “Hobbies . . . I like trying new things.”

“What kind of new things?” I ask.

Her foot runs up to my knee. “Experiences, going out to clubs, things like that.”

“What kinds of clubs?” I wet my lips, letting my eyes flash to her mouth and back up.

“I think you know what kinds of clubs.”

I smirk. Look at her turning on a dime. She was a bumbling mess before, and now she’s ready to battle. Let’s see how far I can push her because if anything, I’m a competitor, and I’ll be damned if I don’t win . . . whatever the hell this is.

“Yeah, have you ever fucked in one?”

She twists her lips to the side and shakes her head. “Just watched.” Her eyes meet mine as she asks, “Have you?”

I rub my hands together and lean back in my chair. “What do you think, Wylie?”

Even though she’s putting up a façade, her cheeks blush a pretty shade of pink. “I think you have.”

I lift my glass of water to my lips. “You would be right.”

“Do you prefer it that way? Keeping it at the club?”

I shake my head. “I have no preference as long as I have a good time and so does my partner.”

She nods. “Well, if you ever need someone to go to one with you, I can go.”

“Yeah. Maybe have a little company party?” I wiggle my brows. “Help your boss pick someone up?”

“I don’t think you need help.”

“Very true, but I’d love to see what your thoughts are on who you think I should be with.”

She pauses for a moment and glances around the room. “You know, I think Jessica on the airplane was a very good option for you.”

“Like I said, she’s not my type.”

“Then why did you take her number?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It’s called being polite,” I answer. “I’m not about to be a dick to her and say no thanks.”

“Instead, you’re going to get her hopes up and make her wait by the phone?”

I shake my head. “No. I already texted her.”

Wylie sits taller as her expression changes to surprise. “Wait, really?”

“Yup.”

“So . . . uh . . . that means that you’re going to meet up with her?”

“What makes you think that?” I ask.

“Well, you texted her. I’m assuming that means you plan to meet up with her.”

I shake my head. “No, I texted her to tell her I was flattered, but I’m into someone else at the moment.”

Her mouth slightly falls open, but then she masks her reaction and glances down at her silverware, quickly moving to look busy.

“That was, uh . . . that was nice of you to let her down like that.”

“Yeah, thought it was the decent thing to do.”

Her eyes meet mine again when she asks, “So if you’re into someone else, then why do you want me to help you find someone at a club to fuck?”

“Because the person I’m into can’t offer me what I want. What I need, therefore, I need to expel this energy somehow.”

“Oh . . . makes sense.”

“Don’t you ever get so incredibly horny that you just need someone, anyone to fuck?”

She wets her lips softly. “I usually resort to my vibrator.”

“A viable option, but sometimes, Wylie, that just isn’t enough,” I say just as our food arrives at our table.

Perfect timing.

LEVI: Reporting in. I’m going full force. I jacked up the AC in the hotel room to force her into my bed.

Ollie: Clever.

Penny: What’s the plan for sharing a bed?

Winnie: Levi, you realize her nipples are going to be incredibly hard. Can you handle it?

Levi: I want her nipples hard so they’re more sensitive. And the plan . . . to tease the ever-living fuck out of her. I want this over by tonight. I want her begging me, so I can win and it all be done.

Ollie: Well, I just got horny.

Penny: You’re always horny.

Winnie: I’ve never met anyone hornier than you, Ollie.

Levi: I’d agree with that statement. The horniest.

Ollie: I wear the label with pride.

Penny: Well, good luck. I approve.

Winnie: Approved.

Ollie: Go for it!

Levi: Where’s Blakely?

Blakely: Trying to have phone sex with my man, so stop texting!

Chuckling, I set my phone down on my nightstand and am plugging it in just as Wylie exits the bathroom. She’s carrying her clothes from tonight and strutting around in a pair of tiny silk shorts and a tank top.

Her legs and ass fill out the shorts so when she walks, they ride up. Her shirt clings to her chest and stomach, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Fuck, she’s so fine.

And I like her especially like this. No makeup, hair in a messy bun, casual. She looks cuddly and like I could wrap my entire body around her to keep her warm and protected.

“My goodness, it’s chilly in here,” she says as she sets her clothes down and looks around to find the thermostat. Her eyes zero in on it, then she glances over at me as I lie casually on the bed, the blankets barely covering my torso. “Did you want it to be an icebox in here?”

“Yeah, I was too hot in our last hotel room. I prefer it to be cold.”

“Okay, well, it’s freezing.” She turns toward me and points at her chest. “Look at my nipples. They’re hard as stone.”

I wet my lips, very satisfied with looking at her nipples that I can nearly see through her shirt.

“Nipples look great to me,” I say. “No complaints.”

“Says my boss,” she says.

“Hey, you’re the one who told me to look at them. I’m just doing as I’m told.”

She rolls her eyes and walks over to her cot where she slips under the covers. I turn out the light and sink into the mattress, just waiting for my moment to pop the question.

I listen as she moves on her cot, trying to get comfortable.

After the third jostle, I say, “Everything okay over there?”

“Fine, just trying to get warm.”

I smile and place my hand behind my head as I stare up at the ceiling. “You know, you can always join me in my bed if you’re cold. I run hot.”

I hear her still, and I can’t contain my smile. She comes off tough, like she can hang in this sexual warfare, but I think it’s all show. I don’t think she can hang at all. I think she’s trying to grasp anything to make it seem like she can hang, but in reality, I own this battle.

“You want me to sleep in your bed?” she finally asks.

“I don’t want you to do anything. I’m just offering since you’re so cold,” I answer.

She’s silent again, and I know she’s thinking about it.

I hope she says yes because I want nothing more than to be able to sleep next to her, to hold her, to fucking drive her mad with need.

After a few seconds, she says, “If I go in your bed, I’ll need to use your body warmth.”

“Use me any way you want, Wylie,” I say.

After another bout of silence, she leaves the cot and moves over to my side of the bed. Her silhouette comes into view, so I lift the bed sheets and let her in. She slips under the covers and then curls away from me and into one of my pillows.

Not even wanting to give her a second to reconsider, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into my bare chest, exposing her to my body heat.

“Warm?” I whisper into her ear.

I can feel her breathing hitch as she says, “Yes. That’s, uh, that’s better.”

“Good,” I say. “Can’t have my assistant cold.” I keep my arm around her as I press my chin up against her head, loving how she so easily fits right into the little spoon position, like she was made for me to hold her.

And hell, I know this was my choice, that I thought this was a good idea, but having her this close, feeling her in my arms, I fear that I might be the one who breaks.

But what does breaking even mean?

Because if I graze her boob, is that breaking? Or is that teasing? In my mind, breaking would be a kiss or going full throttle fucking. I think a graze here and a tease there never hurt anyone. That’s all part of the game, part of the strategy, right?

My question is, what’s going to be her move?

Sure, she’s here in my bed, but she can’t possibly just be here. She has to have a move. Any kind of move, something that’s going to⁠—

She wiggles her ass right against my crotch, getting comfortable.

And yup, there it is.

That’s her fucking move and what a great one.

Because my dick immediately wants more.

My dick wants that to happen again. Multiple times.

“You good?” I slide my hand to her stomach.

“Yes,” she says as her stomach contracts from my touch.

“Good, because I can’t have you uncomfortable.” I move my hand up her stomach to rest just below her breast. “Can’t remember the last time I cuddled with someone,” I say. “And I know I’ve never cuddled with an employee before.”

“Would you consider this cuddling?” she asks. “I thought it would classify under trying to stay warm.”

“Hmm, perhaps,” I say. “But the ass wiggle against my dick, that wasn’t keeping warm, was it?”

“It’s called friction, Levi. We need some to stay warm.”

“Hmm, okay, so then if I were to, I don’t know, graze the underside of your breast like this”—I glide my hand under her heavy breast, causing her to inhale sharply—“that would be friction, right?”

“That, yes, that would be friction.”

“Good to know. Well, I can offer you many types of friction, then. I can use just my thumb.” I drag my thumb over the underside of her breast causing her to lean her head back against my shoulder. “I can use my whole hand.” I drag the back of my hand under her breast. “Or I can use my palm,” I say as I cup the underside of her breast, wanting so much more than these little teases. “You just let me know what you want.”

I bring my hand back to her stomach, despite wanting to do so much more than that.

If I had it my way, I’d strip her out of her shirt, flip her to her back, and play with her tits until she came, then I’d tuck her into my chest and sleep like that for the rest of the night.

“Which was your favorite?” she asks.

“The thumb drag,” I answer. “Not too much friction, but I enjoyed the way it made your body heat.”

“How do you know I heated?” she asks as she presses her ass against my hardening dick. It’s going to be a long fucking night.

“I could feel it,” I answer as I run my thumb along the sensitive flesh of her breast again. She lets out a low breath as I graze her back and forth. “Your entire body stills, and I know in your mind, as your blood boils with need, you don’t just want my thumb playing with your breast, but you want it passing over your nipple.”

“You think highly of yourself,” she says. “I don’t think a nipple pass is creating that much friction.”

“Friction, no, but will it skyrocket the heat level in your body?” I lean in close to her ear. “You’ll be a fucking inferno.” Then just to test her, I run my thumb just below her nipple, so close that I nearly groan.

“Fuck,” she whispers as she tenses.

And I wait.

I wait for her to snap. For her to flip to her back, wrap her hand around the back of my neck, and pull me in for a kiss.

But when she doesn’t move, when she doesn’t do anything but rest against my chest, I realize that I’m going to have to do a hell of a lot more to get her to crack.

I’m impressed. I thought this would have done it.

Maybe . . .

Pulling on my bottom lip, I decide to try one more thing.

I slip my fingers under the hem of her shirt. I pause for a moment, wanting to make sure she’s okay with this. When she doesn’t say anything, I slip my entire hand under her shirt, letting my palm rest on her soft yet heated skin. There’s no way in hell she’s cold anymore.

“Now if you’re still cold,” I say quietly, “I can try doing some skin on skin.” I drag her shirt up so it’s just under her breasts, and I bring her bare back against my chest.

She’s silent for a second before bringing her hand to her shirt. She sits up momentarily before dragging her shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor.

Holy.

Fuck.

She leans her back against my chest and says, “You’re right, skin on skin really does make me warmer.”

Now it’s my time to pause.

To assess.

To tell myself to breathe and not freak out.

Not twist her to her back and take her tit into my mouth.

Have control, man.

Keep steady, don’t fucking lose grip now.

But fuck, her skin is so soft.

So warm.

“Levi?”

“Hmm?” I ask as my palm presses against her stomach, bringing her in even closer.

“You’re really hard.” She rubs her ass against my erection.

“I know,” I say.

“Do you need to take care of that?”

Yes, if you could sit on it and bounce up and down while I stare at your delicious body, that would be amazing, thanks.

“I’m good unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No,” she says softly. “I think it’s hot.” She twists just enough so she’s looking back at me. “Incredibly hot.”

And then she stays there, staring up at me.

I stare down at her.

My hand perched on her stomach, her bare breasts inches from my hand.

Her tongue peeks out and wets her lips.

I inwardly groan as I wet my lips as well.

And when neither one of us makes a move, neither one of us breaks for the kiss, feeling desperate for this to end, I let my thumb caress her bare breast.

Her eyes squeeze shut, so I do it again.

She twists just a touch more, and I curse that she’s under the blankets covering her up.

When her eyes fall to my mouth, I push it a bit farther, then move my thumb just a little higher and stroke the underside of her hard nipples. I need this to be over.

“Fuck,” she groans as I hold my breath, waiting for her to snap.

When she doesn’t move, I do it again.

And again.

And fucking again, but she leans into it.

She pants.

Her chest fucking heaves, but she doesn’t crack.

Instead, her teeth pull on her bottom lip as her hand moves between us and, to my surprise, presses against my cock.

Mother of fuck.

My eyes roll to the back of my head, a groan on the tip of my tongue.

With her palm flat on my length, I shift my pelvis into her hand where she squeezes me just enough to nearly make me choke on my own saliva.

And that’s when I feel it, my will slipping.

My focus draining.

My mission failing.

Because I want more.

I want her to make me lose control.

I want to get lost in her.

I want to straddle her and play.

Play with her chest.

Her mouth.

Between her legs.

Fuck, I want this so bad.

I want it so bad, that my legs quiver, my cock swells, and I lose control.

I let out a deep breath, ready to take what I want just as I feel her slip out of the bed.

Nooooo . . .

With one arm, she covers her breasts as my cock pulses under the sheets. She stares down at me and says, “I’m warm now. Thank you, Mr. Posey.” And then she grabs her tank top from the ground and goes back to her cot.

My cock is throbbing with the need of release . . . while failure consumes me.

How did that not break her?

Because it sure as fuck broke me.

“YOU’RE eager to get back to your hotel room,” Eli says as I jam my finger against the floor number.

“I’m not eager,” I say even though I’m really fucking eager.

After a horrid loss tonight against a team we should have easily beat, everyone is pretty much on edge. Including myself.

I went to bed last night in so much fucking pain from no release that I woke up this morning hard as a goddamn stone. Thankfully, Wylie wasn’t awake yet, so I nearly sprinted to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stroked myself for a measly twenty fucking seconds before coming all over the shower tile.

Yeah, twenty seconds.

Fucking pathetic.

And my mind was so fucked from the night before that I felt like my head wasn’t in the game today. Although, none of us played well so thank fuck it wasn’t only me. And now that the game is over, I have one thing on my mind—breaking Wylie so we can end this fucking torture.

A smart person might say, hey, why don’t you just break it yourself. End your own misery, but that would mean that she would win. Losing is not an option. Not when we’ve come this far.

No fucking way.

“You seem very eager,” Eli says. “You sprinted off the bus.”

“Sprinting is a bit of an exaggeration. And if I was sprinting, how the hell did we end up sharing an elevator?”

“Because I was sprinting too.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re really fucking annoying, you realize that?”

“You’re calling me annoying? You’re the most annoying person I know. The most annoying person the entire team knows.”

“I beg to differ. You all obviously don’t know how to look in the mirror.”

“Denial is an ugly thing, Posey,” Eli says in a scoff.

“Which is why you shouldn’t be denying the fact that you’re annoying.” I pat him on the cheek. “That pretty boy face is going to turn into an ogre expression. Might even grow a single black hair on the tip of your nose.”

Eli’s expression falls flat. “My case in point.”

“That’s not annoying. That’s just stating facts.”

The elevator doors part open and I bolt out of the elevator and down the hall.

“Some might think you have a girl in your room,” Eli calls out, but I just ignore him as I reach my room, open it with the key card, and then let myself in, only to find the room blistering hot.

“Jesus fuck,” I say. “It’s hot in here.”

Wylie takes that moment to walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a pair of underwear and a white tank top with the hem tied up around her breasts.

What in the fuck is she doing?

“You’re back,” she says as she walks behind me. “Let me take your jacket for you.”

“Why is it so hot in here?”

“I watched the game, and you know, I just thought you looked a little stiff. So I came up with an idea to help with that.” She hangs my suit jacket in the closet, then guides me over to the bed. “I’m going to need you to strip out of your pants, though.”

Oh, she has fucking plans. I can see it in her eyes. There’s an evil gleam, and I realize that whatever is about to happen will be absolute hell.

“You seem a little shocked by the heat, so let me help you.” She walks up to me and, before I comprehend what she’s doing, she undoes my pants and leaves them open, then starts unbuttoning my dress shirt.

Her fingers play against my chest as I stare down at her deliciously curvy body. I take that moment to observe her as she works on my buttons. The way her body curves dramatically at her hips, giving her that hourglass figure is sexy as fuck. She’s not model thin, something I love about her body. I want nothing more than to turn her around, bend her over, and grip those hips, that ass, and claim it as mine.

When she’s done with the buttons, she pushes the shirt off and then brings me over to the bed where she sits me down. Hands on my knees, she kneels in front of me, causing my cock to jolt as she removes my shoes.

“Don’t think I’m paying you for this kind of service,” I say as she sets my shoes to the side. I lift so she can pull my pants off as well.

“This is something special.” She winks, then lays me down on the bed, flat on my back.

“Does it have to be this hot?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers as she walks away.

“Where are you going?”

“Just rest there for a moment. Let the heat sink in.”

“Wylie, it’s already sunk in. I’m sweating.”

“Good,” she says as she reappears from the bathroom, but this time, she has the ice bucket in her arm.

She sets the ice bucket next to me.

“Like I said, you were quite stiff throughout the game, and I thought that maybe you needed some help relaxing your muscles and working through any tension you might be keeping in your shoulders.”

And then, to my fucking surprise and joy, she straddles my lap and rests her center right on top of my now hardening cock.

She has to feel it. She smiles before picking up some ice and bringing it to my chest.

I suck in air as she moves the ice up my chest and around my pecs.

“Relax, Levi,” she coos as I stare right down her shirt.

Hard to fucking relax when her hips are lightly rocking over my cock, I have the perfect view of her cleavage, and she’s rubbing ice against my chest.

Nothing about this is relaxing.

And she fucking knows it.

She’s had all goddamn day to plan this, and fuck has she outdone herself. This . . . this will make me break.

“God, your chest is incredible,” she says as she brings the ice over my nipples. “You are so impressively large, Levi.”

In what area?

Because right now, I know for a fact I’m getting impressively large in my boxer briefs.

She leans back, completely resting on my cock as she slides the ice down my abdomen, playing with the divots.

“Easily one of the hottest bodies I’ve ever seen.” She lifts off my cock, leans forward, and places one hand on the mattress while the other runs ice over my left pec. She focuses entirely on that area, every once in a while moving the ice over my nipple and causing it to harden.

She sits back down and rubs her center over my length for a mere second before lifting back up and moving over to the other pec.

She continues this torture, slowly and methodically dry-humping me without actually dry-humping me.

It’s one slow stroke after another.

One torturously slow stroke.

It’s so fucking bad that I realize if I don’t do something soon, if I let her take advantage of the situation, I’ll snap, so I grab some ice from the bucket as well, and when she leans forward, I bring the ice to her chest.

She pauses in surprise. “You looked really hot, Wylie, so I thought I’d cool you down as well.”

“Oh, no need. I can do that myself,” she says as she sits back on my cock. Bringing the melting ice straight to her covered breasts, she rubs them a few times, dampening the fabric to where it’s almost see-through.

Fuck . . .

Me . . .

Like a voyeur, I stare.

I watch as the gorgeous nipples harden from the cold of the ice. I watch intently as her head moves side to side and the way she gets lost in the feel of turning herself on.

I revel in the way she slowly rotates her hips over my cock, seeking her own pleasure.

And I nearly drool over the drop of her mouth when I lightly thrust my hips up into her.

Her eyes pop open as she realizes she’s been seeking out her own pleasure. That’s when I grip her hips and lightly guide them over my cock, up and down, up and down, showing her how hard she makes me but also tempting her. Giving her something that will tip her over the edge.

This has to do it. I know her clit is riding my length right now. I can feel how turned on she is. I can see it in her eyes. So I take more ice, slip my hand under her shirt, and as she moves forward to rub over my pecs again, I bring my palm to her breast, where I cup it with the ice.

She lets out a hiss and rotates her hips hard on my cock, causing me to buckle at the waist ever so slightly.

The ice falls from my palm to my stomach, leaving my hand on her bare breast. At this point, I don’t fucking care. I squeeze her, feeling the weight of her in my palm, running my fingers over her hard nipple.

She curls in, her hands no longer gripping my stomach as her hips start moving faster over my cock.

Her eyes squeeze shut, and her fingers dig into my skin as my body lights up, my cock growing impossibly hard with every stroke, every rub.

“Fuck, baby,” I say, unable to hold back, but it must snap her out of it because she pauses.

She stares down at me, and the hunger in her eyes morphs into realization.

“Jesus,” she whispers before she scoots off me, leaving my cock nearly poking past my briefs. She hops off the bed, walks over to her suitcase, and doesn’t even hide it as she takes her vibrator into the bathroom and shuts the door.

I stab my hand through my hair, pulling on the strands just as I hear her vibrator turn on.

And I don’t have to listen intently as she starts moaning because it echoes against the tiles.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she calls out. “Oh my God.”

Not a chance I’m going to withstand this, so I push my briefs down, grab the base of my cock, and start pumping, using my precum as lube.

“God, Levi,” she calls out. “Oh God, I’m going to come.”

I bite on my bottom lip, my mind swirling, my body buzzing, the need for this woman so fucking strong. I squeeze tightly and pump hard, rocking my own goddamn world as Wylie gets off in the bathroom.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, yes, oh God, I’m coming,” she shouts. “I’m coming, fuck yes. Oh fuck!”

My brain goes dizzy, my legs go numb, and my balls tighten right before my orgasm shoots through my body, and I’m pumping my cock, coming all over my goddamn stomach.

I take a few seconds to catch my breath before I grab a tissue from the desk and wipe up my stomach . . . just as Wylie exits the bathroom.

She walks up to me, pats me on the chest, and says, “Relaxed now?”

Not even a fucking little.

I GLANCE behind me and spot Wylie talking with Jeremiah, one of the rookies. He sat across from her on the plane, and on occasion, she’s laughed at something he’s said. And let me tell you, Jeremiah is not that fucking funny. I’ve heard him tell a story before—it’s dragged out with barely a punchline. She’s doing this on purpose, and I can tell you right fucking now, I don’t like it.

I don’t like anything at all. I’m in the worst fucking mood as we head back to Vancouver after a long-ass away trip. Thankfully, we won tonight’s game, which means I can take a breather and collect myself, especially after last night. I’m still confused. Did both of us break? Technically, no. She dry-humped me for a few minutes, I grabbed her fucking spectacular breast, and then we both got off, separately.

And now, we haven’t really said anything to each other, other than pleasantries. I don’t think either of us knows where to go from here. But every time I hear her laugh, all I want is to take her somewhere and show her how into her I am.

“You look tense,” Pacey says as he takes a seat in front of me but turns around to face me.

Silas joins him. “Very tense.”

“Can we not do this?” I ask as I open my book of Washington state that I’ve somehow gotten into. Did you know that Washington has the largest ferry fleet in the United States? Found that fascinating. Also, it grows the most apples in the United States. I wonder if Eli knows that. It’s a fun fact he could text Penny.

“Not do what?” Eli asks.

Speak of the devil.

“Posey doesn’t want us bothering him apparently,” Silas says. “Even though he bothers us all the time.”

I study a picture of Mount Olympus. Just over seven thousand feet in elevation. Huh, seems like it would be taller than that.

“Posey isn’t talking to us?” I hear OC say as he comes up from behind. “What did we do wrong?”

“I think we’re annoying him,” Pacey says.

“Even though he annoys us,” Eli adds.

“Well, that doesn’t seem like a reason not to talk to us,” OC says. “We’re friends. We should communicate.”

“One would think, OC,” Pacey says. “But it seems as though there has been a lack of communication lately with our good friend Posey. As Eli pointed out, he’s very quick to flee the bus and get back to his hotel room.”

“And he hasn’t been hanging out with us as of late. The only time we see him is when we’re getting ready for games,” Silas points out.

“And there isn’t an ounce of interest in our personal lives when usually there is,” Eli continues.

OC leans in close and says, “And despite the write-up I did about Grace and me, I haven’t heard a response.”

That causes me to lift my head and pull away from my fascinating yet informative Washington book. “I didn’t get a fucking write-up.”

“Ha.” OC points at me. “That’s because I didn’t turn it in yet, but I got you to look up.”

I look him dead in the eyes and say, “That’s going to be a mark against your name, good luck erasing it.”

“Be serious for a second,” Pacey says. “Something’s going on and you’re not telling us about it. For fuck’s sake, you’re reading a book, and that’s very unlike you.”

From the back, I hear Wylie laugh again, and it nearly makes me crumple this delectable book in my palm.

“I can read books,” I defend. “Halsey does it all the time, and you don’t say shit to him.”

“Because he’s been doing it for a long time, and he reads fiction. You’re reading a book about Washington.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask. “What’s wrong with wanting to gain knowledge about our neighbors, or just knowledge in general? Not everything is about living in a fantasy world like Halsey lives in. Books can be for both pleasure and knowledge. Don’t make me feel bad for wanting to better myself.”

“By learning about Washington?” Silas asks.

“It’s a beautiful place,” I practically yell. “Now get off my case and let me get back to learning about these goddamn apples they grow.”

They all stare at me while I try to focus on the words in front of me, but they all jumble together.

“What if we don’t try to involve ourselves in your life even though there’s clearly something going on and instead, we just talk?” Pacey says. “Like we can talk about how Winnie wants to get married this Christmas Eve.”

I glance up at him. “She does?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’m not sure about it, but she’s dead set on the idea.”

“Or how about how Penny wants to get married next summer?” Eli says. “When Holden is a little older and can be the ring bearer.”

“Well . . . that’s fucking adorable,” I say.

“Or how about that I plan on proposing to Ollie soon?”

“Really?” I ask, feeling myself getting excited. Oh, the queens are making moves on their men, and I’m fucking here for it. “When do you plan on proposing?”

“Still trying to figure that out, but you would have been part of those discussions if you hadn’t been ditching us. You don’t even respond to group texts like you used to,” Silas bemoans.

“I know.” I drag my hand over my face. Guilt consumes me because unfortunately, they’re right. I’ve been MIA when it comes to our friendships. I should really be better, but I’ve only been able to process so much. The queens take up a lot of my texting headspace, especially since they run rampant during some conversations, and it’s really hard to pull them back. “I’m sorry,” I say to the boys.

“We won’t ask you why,” Pacey says. “Because it seems like it’s something you’re not going to talk to us about, but we do want you to know that we miss you.” Crap. Talk about guilt. But it’s not only that, it’s almost . . . sadness I feel. Understandably, there’s been a slow shift in the dynamic of our relationship as each of my friends have fallen for their women, but it has meant that we spend less time with each other. It’s been strange. Lonely at times. Dare I say, life had been simpler before the girls came along. Yet I’m also happy for my friends.

“And we made you this,” Eli says, pulling a sandwich from behind him. “And when we say made, we mean we bought it for you.” He sets it in front of me, and I don’t even have to open it to know that it’s a bologna sandwich.

I glance up at my friends and press my hand to my heart. “You did this for me?”

“We did,” Pacey says. “Even Halsey, but he’s reading in the back and told us not to disturb him because he just came to a plot twist. But he sends his love.”

“Wow,” I say, glancing down at the sandwich. “This means a lot. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Eli says. “And you know, you can always talk to us if you’re going through something. You don’t have to hide it.”

“Dude, we said we wouldn’t pressure him,” Silas says.

“I know, but just reiterating that we’re here for him.”

I open the sandwich and take in the beautiful smell of bologna on white bread. God, they know me so well. The gesture almost, and I mean almost, makes me want to open up about what’s happening, but at the moment, it feels way too complicated to even explain.

I’m not sure I even know what’s going on, but what I do know is that it ends tomorrow.

This bullshit is over.

I lift the sandwich to my mouth and take a bite. I give it a few chews and look at Silas. “Tell me about the proposal. I want every detail because I know you’re going to fuck it up, and Daddy Posey is going to have to clean up your mess for you. So before that happens, let’s make a plan.”

“Don’t refer to yourself as Daddy Posey,” Silas deadpans.

“Don’t make me, then,” I say with a snarky bite of my sandwich, causing Pacey to laugh.

“And he’s back . . .”