Page 90 of The Trade

His reassurances were earnest when I offered myself to him later, and he turned me down. “I want you. Always,” he said, his voice a tender whisper against the shell of my ear. “I’m just too tired right now.” But even though his words sounded sincere, they felt foreign.

His behavior was far from the West I’m used to. He’s never turned down sex before, backed away from the raw connection that’s always sparked between us.

Not to mention there was something he’d been wanting to “talk” about. He’d seemed eager, insistent even, about discussing something once we reached the privacy of his place. But once we were comfortably nestled into his bed, he conveniently forgot all about it.

And then there was this morning. Apparently, he was in a hurry to get back to his “studies,” even though it’s a fucking Sunday. His big exam is finally over, and so is the scrimmage.

He’s been more than vocal about how much he missed me over the last couple of weeks, and now that he finally has some time on his hands, he’s choosing to bury himself in his books. It doesn’t add up.

Is he upset about the article? My jealousy? Or is there something else, an entirely different reason, lurking behind his strange demeanor?

If he would just communicate, tell me what’s on his mind, I wouldn’t be stuck playing this guessing game. But the West I’m dealing with right now is a mystery—a puzzle I’m desperately trying to solve, piece by confusing piece.

Lost in my head, the sound of the apartment door creaking open finally rips me back to reality. It’s almost noon, and Shannon’s just now making her way inside.

“Hey, Jade!” she says, her cheerful voice echoing off our thin walls. She flings her keys onto the kitchen counter and moves toward me, settling down on the couch.

“Hey,” I say, kicking my feet onto the coffee table. “Did you stay at the Spirit House last night?”

“Yeah, we all got a little too sloppy,” she says, a sheepish grin on her face. “Did you and West end up skipping the party?”

“Nah, we just dipped out a little early. He was ... tired, I guess.”

“What doesthatmean?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” I say, a sigh escaping me. “He’s just been acting a little weird lately.”

“Weird how?”

“Like ...tense?” I shrug helplessly, running my fingers through my hair, anxiety knotting in my stomach. “We, um, we had sex at the party last night.”

“At the party?” Her eyes blow wide. “Damn, okay.”

I look down at my hands. “Yeah, weak moment on my part. West was getting all this attention, and I was feeling a little insecure.”

“Okay, that tracks.” Her face softens with sympathy. “Jersey chasers always pop up after a big win.”

I groan, resting my head back on the couch. “It was definitely eye-opening.”

“So, you think he’s mad about that?” she asks, puzzled. “That you were feeling jealous?”

“I don’t know, really. He might be upset about me writing an article on the banquet.”

“Why would that upset him?”

“Maybe he just wants me to be there forhimand not for myself.”

My brow furrows at the realization. The banquet is a team event, after all. The premise of me attending should be to celebrate West and all his achievements, but somehow, I’ve made the night about myself.

“That doesn’t really seem like West, though. Maybe he’s just in a weird mood?”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, a sinking feeling creeping into my chest. “What are you wearing to the banquet, by the way?”

“Cam says it’s black-and-white themed, so I’ll probably pick a white dress out of my closet. I assume you’ll be wearing black.”

“Duh.” I give her a tiny smile, my spirits lifting slightly. Aside from my favorite sweatshirt, most of my other wardrobe is black—it’s practically my brand at this point. “Are you excited to go with Cam?”

“Yeah, I think it’ll be fun. He’s a good friend.”

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