Page 68 of Unsteady

“Whatever you want, hotshot.”

I should tell her to climb on top of me and sit on my face in the way I’ve been thinking about for weeks.

Instead I say, “Stay the night with me?”

She freezes for a second, her body still as she settles straddling my abdomen. I can feel the heat of her against my skin and for a moment I want to saynevermindand drag her body up to devour her.

But I wait, and she finally huffs a breath.

“Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll stay tonight.”

I make her come three more times—like a reward for her answer, or proof of why I’m worthy of her time—before we fall asleep naked under the sheets of my bed.

But when my alarm goes off the next morning, she’s gone and the sheets are ice cold.

TWENTY-TWO

RHYS

Nothing is helping the tremors in my hands as I sit on the bus for the last hour of our trip.

I fake slept for the majority of the drive to Vermont, avoiding conversation with Freddy to my left. Growing up, Bennett had always been my seat partner, which was perfect for my focus.

That didn’t change at Waterfell, despite the slight discomfort of our oversized bodies shoved into the chairs. I don’t think Bennett could change a ritual if he had to.

Freddy cranks the volume on the Bluetooth speaker in his hand after Coach gives him the nod, which means we are close enough to the arena for it.

Gym Class Heroes starts blaring, “Cupid’s Chokehold” reverberating throughout the bus and gaining everyone’s attention. Smiles on all the upperclassmen, confused interest alighting the freshmen. No one really knows where the tradition started, but music blares on the bus for away games and every locker room—before a game and after a win. A few start to yell and sing along, as Holden and Freddy start rapping back and forth, dancing around the bus.

When I was a freshman, it was fun bonding, a quick hype up. Now, with Freddy and Dougherty it plays out like a full-fledged production.

“He’s getting weirdly good at this,” I mumble to Bennett, running my fingers along the bracelet on my wrist.

He messes with his baseball cap and shrugs. “Not that weird. Freddy loves this.”

“What?”

“Attention.”

I laugh, even though I know Bennett isn’t trying to be funny. It feels good for a minute, like I’m me again.

It isn’t until I’m in full gear and stuffing myself into an equipment closet to hide the signs of an approaching episode that I’m reminded this is my first game back.

Fuck.

The phone in my hand is trembling, shakes wracking my body.

I dial before I can think twice about it.

“Hey, hotshot,” she answers quickly, a smile in her voice that drips through the receiver like syrup. “Miss me already?”

The tightness in my chest starts to ease immediately.

“Hey,” I breathe out.

It’s silent for a long moment, before her quiet giggle sears my skin and shoots goosebumps down my arms.

“Just calling to breathe in my ear?”

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