Page 20 of Beautifully Conflicted

“Don’t look at me. I don’t have the best track record at spotting that stuff,” Jagger says as he hooks a thumb in Cam’s direction. “I didn’t know this fucker was bi until I saw Liam blow untouched and needed him to help me figure out if my dick could do that.”

“Best day of your life.” Cam grabs Jagger by the front of his shirt and tugs him forward until they’re chest to chest so he can give him an X-rated kiss.

“Fuck yeah,” Jagger agrees breathlessly before going in for another.

They’re too busy sucking face to see my eyeroll, but Cruz doesn’t miss it. “Is it a problem if Damien’s gay?” he asks me.

“Why would it be a problem?”

“I don’t know. You’ve just never seemed to care what people are before.”

“Still don’t,” I say with more indifference than I feel. “But if Damien and Aiden are into each other… I could be stuck with him at practiceandat the house.”

I’m not actually concerned about Aiden having a thing for Damien. I don’t think he’d go there knowing how I feel about him. Iamconcerned Liam’s right about Damien being gay. If that’s true, the safety net I’ve relied on for so long never existed in the first place.

I can’t handle this shit right now.

“Pitch me that vase,” I bark at Cam, whose lips are finally unglued from Jagger’s. “I wanna see how many pieces I can break it into with one swing.”

Damien

“What do you think dogs dream about?” I ask Bennet as we jog along the wooded path that’s part of our five-mile route today. Since it's winter, it’s not especially green, but I bet in the spring it would be like those picturesque views you see of Switzerland. Or Scotland. Maybe even dotted with tiny flowers.

Not that I’m a flower guy—I don’t have the first clue how to grow anything—but I do like color.

Blue is my favorite, which may or may not be due to the fact that Bennet has the most captivating cobalt eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s one of those chicken and egg things—which came first; my love of blue or the realization that his eyes are so breathtaking. I honestly don’t know. It doesn’t matter at this point, though. If it’s blue I’m drawn to it. And if he’s wearing something to compliment his eyes… I’ve forgotten how to breathe before. True statement.

“How the fuck should I know?” Bennet’s growly answer reminds me that I’d asked him a question about dogs.

I’ve always thought running would be more fun with a dog. Their cute little tongues hanging out the side of their mouths never fails to amuse me. Plus, it’d give me someone to talkto. Even if they don’t know what I’m saying and can’t respond, you don’t look crazy talking to a dog.

Honestly, I probably look more crazy trying to talk to Bennet, who glowers so much I second guess everything I say.

That’s probably because he warned me not to say anything at all and I didn’t listen. Twice.

It’s only the second day of training with this newpartnerarrangement Coach came up with, and I’m honestly surprised I’m still paired with him. I was convinced he’d lobby for a change the second our last practice ended, or after I showed up and told him Aiden wanted to see my COC. So, that lack of announcement about a partner change has me downright giddy.

Chances are, I’m still on borrowed time though. And instead of being sad about that, I plan to take advantage of every second we’re forced to train together, whether Bennet likes it or not.

“You called your roommates dogs the first time I came over. I thought maybe you were a dog person.”

“I didn’t call them dogs.” The firm set of Bennet’s jaw is so sexy I have to force my eyes back to the path, so I don’t trip.

“You said they mark their territory.”

“Because their dicks are always flapping around where they shouldn’t be. I had to make a rule about it, so they don’t whip them out all the time.”

“Marking your territory means peeing, not waving your dick around.”

“I know what it means. I don’t want to see dicks all over my house.” I think his eye might twitch as he barks at me—that’s new—which I’m sure I should take as a warning, but we’re talking aboutdicks now so… No.

“The peeing part I get, it’s an impossible odor to get rid of, but why wouldn’t you want to see dicks?”

“I’m not gay,” he grunts as we round a corner and jog over a narrow bridge that’ll be handy in the summer when the snow runoff turns this little ditch into a gurgling stream.

“You don’t have to be gay to like them, Lucy. I love mine, but I’ve seen others I like just as much.”

From the corner of my eye, I’d swear Bennet’s step falters, but since he doesn’t break stride, I figure I must’ve imagined it.

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