Page 99 of Shattered

His frown deepens. “Back from where?”

“It’s a surprise. Now hurry up.” I grin, even though his questions linger. He backs away, teammates gathering around him, all smiles and laughter. Their joy is contagious.

Denny stands there, bright-eyed, smiling with his teammates. I approach the wall separating us from the benches. His eyes lock onto mine, and his smile vanishes.

“Bohdi.” He nods, gaze shifting back to the players filtering down the tunnel.

“Den, can I talk to you?” I ask. Den huffs, walking over. Fans surround us, clapping Denny on the back. He smiles at them, but it’s strained.

“Congratulations.” I offer a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks,” he grumbles. “Look.” Denny raises his hand. “Kal already told everyone about your plans for Brayden. I know he won’t be celebrating. But I’m sure he’ll love your surprise.”

His words sound robotic, as if we haven’t been friends since freaking school.

“Don’t be like this,” I say, wincing. His eyes bore into mine. He hasn’t answered my calls. I’ve tried going round to him, but his wife tells me he isn’t ready to talk to me. We’re grown men, for Christ’s sake.

“You were my best friend. I trusted you, Boh. Brayden isn’t some damn project for you to fix.”

I reel back. “What the hell do you mean, project?”

“You’re a fixer, Boh. Always have been. Moving here? It was your escape from grief, from yourself. You found someone who needed fixing, channeled all your pain into him. It didn’t matter who—it was your lifeline.”

His words stab like glass, tearing through my heart. “You think Brayden’s just someone I want to fix?” My voice cracks. “I fucking love that boy. I don’t know how I survived without him.”

“Well, he wasn’t born when we were in college, Boh. Maybe that’s how.”

“Fuck you, Denny. Screw your stuck-up views. I don’t care what anyone thinks. Brayden’s mine, and I’ll make him happier than any damn college kid could.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Denny walks off, leaving me raw. His words echo, but all I can think is I wonder if that is what people think.

Well, there’s nothing I love doing more than proving people wrong.

In the car, Brayden buzzes in his seat with excitement. “Please, can you tell me where we’re going?” His eyes move to the backseat as he stares at our suitcases again. “I can’t believe you packed for me,” he mutters. “Did you include some hats? You know I can’t go without my hats.”

I chuckle. “And I love seeing you in those hats.”

Brayden’s eyes darken, no doubt remembering the other night when he was naked, and I went and put one of his beanies on his head as I fucked him over the arm of the couch. Something about Brayden in a beanie or a baseball cap does something to me and my dick.

In the moments after we pull up at the airport, Brayden’s grin is intoxicating. I know he’s never been on a plane before; every away game, they took the school coach, even if it meant hours of driving. But a few months back, I told him that Cash and Rylee wanted us to visit them once the season finished. He already asked me earlier if that’s where we were going. I grinned, making him think it could be, but it’s not.

“We need to hurry; we’re a bit late,” I say as we grab our suitcases from the luggage carousel. Inside the airport, the departure screen displaysChicago. His eyes light up.

“I’ve never been to Chicago,” he grins, his smile bright. I think he’s going to figure it out because yes, it says Chicago, but there’s also another name underneath it.

“Chicago is just the layover.” I grin, pointing back to the screen. His eyes dance over the display, then widen. Tears linehis eyes, and I clench my jaw to stop myself from getting emotional.

“London?” he gasps. I nod, swiping under his eye before the tear falls.

“London,” I smile.

“Boh.” His voice cracks.

“Please don’t cry, Bray. Two men can’t stand in an airport crying.” I chuckle.

“I can’t believe it. You’re taking me to London.” His eyes move to the screen again, as if it’s playing tricks on him.

“I want you to experience it all—for Bexley,” I say, pulling a small bag from my carry-on. “I brought you this.” I pass it to him, and he frowns down at it as he unwraps it. “It’s a new diary. Write messages to Bex while we’re on this trip, and when we’re back, sit with him and tell him all about it.”

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