Page 36 of Endgame

He knew very well that the shirt hit mid-thigh, her ass completely covered, because she’d worn similar shirts of his in the exact same size. Plus, he had eyes and could see it for himself. Regardless, she could and would wear whatever the hell she wanted. Getting harassed was on the harasser, not the harassed.

“Ooh, let’s add slut shaming and victim blaming to tick off all of those toxic masculinity boxes, shall we? It’s a toxic trifecta. Well done, Solomon.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Dammit, Lila.

King reared back, the pain evident on his face. Lila sighed, suddenly so, so tired, and held up her hands in surrender.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, King. So sorry.” She sighed and rubbed the skin of her forehead between her brows before looking him in the eye. “I shouldn’t have used that name. Ever. I know the pain it causes you, and it doesn’t matter what you’ve said to me or how you’ve treated me. There’s no excuse for what I just said. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

His face twisted into a remorseful expression, and it was just too much. “La…”

“Just don’t, okay? Please just leave me alone. Before either of us says anything else we regret.”

His jaw popped as he clenched it tight, and he nodded before turning to leave. Lila didn’t watch him walk away.

She shot Vicky and Dani a text so she could hitch a ride home with them. After they got back to the apartment, she bid them goodnight and shot Wren an “I’m home” text before stripping off her boots and shucking off her bralette. She was too drained to manage anything else. Lila sighed tiredly as she crawled into bed, unwillingly subjected to Becky’s weird white noise machine playing what was allegedly supposed to be “womb sounds.” Unlike other nights, however, she eschewed her earplugs and let the sheer exhaustion of the night’s events pull her under.

Later, Lila awoke to the sound of shoes hitting the floor and the sensation of someone sliding next to her in her college-issue twin bed. Womb sounds officially off, she figured it was at least 6:00 in the morning, which was the time Becky always woke up to do her second Saturday morning run. She turned to face her best friend, who was still dressed in her outfit from the night before.

Wren’s face was streaked with mascara, the tip of her nose pink, her expression weary.

“Want to talk about it?” Lila whispered.

“Not right now,” Wren murmured.

“Okay.” Lila put a comforting arm around her friend, and then they both fell asleep.

Chapter 19

It had become obvious throughout the week that Knight was not doing okay. Whatever had happened the night of Jock Jam had left the normally amiable Knight moody and reclusive. And since Knight was always there for King, even when King was acting like a jerk, King was there for Knight, no questions asked. He waded through the empty beer cans, pizza boxes, and takeout containers that littered Knight’s room as he yanked the covers down off of his friend.

“Rise and shine, gorgeous. We’re going to be late for our final if you don’t get your ass in gear.” King sniffed. “And take a damn shower. You stink.”

Knight groaned and tried to pull the covers back over his head. “Fuck off, Spencer. My head is killing me.”

King ripped off the covers in response, thankful that his friend didn’t sleep in the nude. “Seriously, man, do you not care about athletic eligibility? You miss this final, and your ass is grass next year. The final is half the damn grade.”

“Fuck! Fine.” Knight finally sat up, slowly, and rubbed his eyes. King thrust some Advil and a glass of water into his hands.

“Take these and jump in the shower. I’ll make you some coffee. It’s a damn good thing you have a photographic memory, or you’d be screwed.”

Knight grumbled and headed toward the bathroom. As soon as King was satisfied that Knight had actually started the shower, he headed downstairs to make some coffee. Based on what he’d heard from the other guys, the night of the party, Knight and Wren had gone upstairs together, and no one was sure what had happened after that.

A few minutes later, Knight staggered down the stairs, dressed and smelling a hell of a lot better. King slid a cup of black coffee in Knight’s direction then took a sip of his own. He cleared his throat, unsure of how to play it. Knight had always been like a brother to him, including kicking his ass when his ass needed kicking, and King wanted to reciprocate.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk about what happened, I get it. But I’m here if you need to talk to somebody.”

Knight grunted, and King could see the naked emotion on his face. “Thanks, man. I…uh, shit.” And then he started crying.

King was around the island in a flash and banded his arms around his friend. He held him while he cried, his large body shaking the both of them. “I’ve got you, okay? Whatever’s happened, I’ve got you.”

Knight calmed and stepped back, swiping a hand over his eyes. “Thanks, King. I appreciate that. I just… A lot happened that night. I thought that maybe things were finally falling into place, but then…”

“Then, what?”

Knight rubbed his temples and sighed. “She called me Aaron.”

---