Page 7 of Fragile

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, as your captain, don’t go crazy.”

“It’s all good, man. Just a drink. This is my first one too. Chill.”

He doesn’t bring it up again. I know what he’s saying; during the season, we all try not to drink. I saytrybecause, evidently, Hudson thinks that doesn’t apply to him. And maybe I think it doesn’t apply to me either. But our coach is keen on us treating our bodies with respect so they perform well for the team. The number of times I’ve heard him say ‘your body is a temple’ should stop me, but it won’t. Not tonight.

An hour later, my body hums with a numbness that can only be achieved with booze. I didn’t listen to Seb’s advice, and I’ve lost count of how much I’ve had to drink. One of the guys who lives here, Levi, is sitting next to me on the uncomfortable sofa with a girl grinding on his lap, making all kinds of slurping noises as they eat face. She moans and whimpers, and I can’t help but chuckle as I stand. “Get a fucking room.”

His hand snaps out and grabs my wrist, stopping me from moving as I sit back down. He leans away from the girl, lowering his voice to whisper, “Are you needing my services again this season?”

I hesitate, glancing at the chick leaving marks on his neck. When I give him a warning look ofwhat the fuck?,he doesn’t seem to get it. “You look stressed is all. Thought you could use something. And hey, because it’s you, the first one’s on me.” He gives me a knowing look and stands up, taking the girl with him.She sways on her feet and reaches out for Levi’s hand. “Find me before you leave, yeah?”

I tilt up my chin, anxiety spiking through me. “Yeah, man.” But I hesitate. What am I doing? “I’ll let you know.”

His offer rings in my head as I sink back to the couch.Something. That word feels too tempting because I know whatsomethingcan do for me. I never claimed to be a saint, far from it. But last year was the last time. I’d promised myself I’d do better, and then we got to the championships, and I needed that edge again. Winning that game was the closest thing to pride I’d ever seen on my dad’s face, even though it was reckless. Do I want to risk it all again?

“Hey, you.” A feminine hand wraps around my bicep, her thin body dropping beside me, chest pressing against me. Madison and I messed around a few times last year, but I never wanted anything more.

“Hey,” I reply, giving her the once-over, staring at her body she always puts on display like a trophy. She’s all big boobs, push-up bras, over-filled lips, and dark hair. She’s pretty and exactly what I needed last year—a distraction. But it doesn’t hit the same anymore. As her lips graze my cheek, her usual scent of cherries seeps into my space.

“I haven’t seen you around much,” she purrs, her red nails tracing circles on my chest.

“I’ve been around. Just busy with practice, school, and games starting back up.”

She nods, even though I know she hates football. My ability on the pitch never impressed her, and maybe that’s why I kept her hanging on last year. She didn’t even try to talk sports with me, it was just physical. A quick release for both of us and nothing more.

“Hmm, sounds stressful.” Her eyes sparkle, filled with a look I know all too well as her fingers linger over my pec. “Maybe I can help with that?”

Peeling her hand off me, I place it in her lap. “Mads, I’m not feeling it tonight.”

Her features pinch, brown eyes darkening as she tries to hide a scowl. “Oh yeah, sure. I was just coming over to say hi.”

She pushes up from the couch and walks away to a group of girls over by the corner, leaving me feeling like an asshole. But the thing is, I’ve always been one. I’m the one you can find at all the parties, the easy hookup, the one who will give you the best night of your life but won’t be around in the morning. I’ve created that persona for myself, and it’s always been intentional, because not many people know the real me and that’s how I intend to keep it. Hiding in plain sight is easier with everyone expecting the same from me.

I jolt to a stand, stalking toward the group. Grabbing Madison’s shoulder, I thread a hand into her hair.

“Mil—” She doesn’t finish my name as I smash our lips together, swallowing the sound of surprise that quickly morphs into a moan. It doesn’t take her long for her hands to wind around my neck, kissing me back and sticking her tongue down my throat.

This isn’t exactly what I need, but at least this way I’m not thinking about the phone call with my dad or Levi’s offer.

Chapter three

Quinn

Watching Miles suck facewith someone else... It really sucks. I’m not a fan. But it’s also something I’ve seen before. Many times.

Does it make my heart feel like it’s going to explode?Yeah. Am I going to do anything about it?No. I’ve only got myself to blame. I don’t need to watch it happen, though, so I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing I was anywhere but here.

“You’re out of it tonight. What is going on?” Indie asks, nudging my toe with hers, as she stands across from me in the tiny kitchen. Opening my eyes again, I see her bright blues assessing me with curiosity and concern.

I shake my head, breaking away my focus from her, and stare into my full cup of vodka with some kind of bright red mixer that tastes like pure sugar. I wince at the thought of taking another sip. “Just…adjusting to school again, that’s all.”

Indie moves to lean against the same counter as me so we’re side by side, close enough that I can feel her reassurance, butnot so much that I feel stifled. “Wanna talk? Vault, remember?” I look up just as she taps the side of her head, and I smile.

My gaze goes back to my drink as my lungs inflate to the fullest, collecting all the thoughts inside my head about the boy I’ve spent my whole life loving. I hold that breath in my chest until my lungs burn with the need to release.

No, I can’t talk about it. Talking won’t change anything. My brother’s best friend will never know. I’ll never tell him for two reasons. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, and absolutely shouldn’t get in between my brother and Miles like that. They have the kind of friendship that’s brotherly, and if Miles and I didn’t work out? Seb would pick me over him, without question, and I’d be responsible for being the wrecking ball in destroying their relationship. That kind of hurt is what my girl, Taylor, writes songs about, and I could never be the source for anyone.

Secondly, and probably the point that makes my heart feel like a used soggy tissue, is that Miles does not see me as anything more than a friend. Some might even say a sister. Which makes me feel like an absolute creep, so I’m going with friend. We’re a little group, have been ever since we were in diapers together, and I keep all these feelings inside because it’s for the best.Yay for me.

---