Page 57 of Tempting the Teammate
Andrei tensed, and I swung my gaze to the figure stepping out of the shadow. He was a tall guy, all sharp lines and angles, cheekbones so high you could cut your hand on them, eyebrows dark and flat over his knowing eyes, nose perfectly straight, and lips framed by a thin, black mustache he must have trimmeddaily. There was a magnetic aura radiating off him that both attracted me and repelled me. And by the tension in Andrei’s face, I could tell the stranger had the same effect on him.
“You into trash TV?” I asked.
The guy chuckled and dragged a puff of smoke, the cigarette glowing and crackling in the cold air. “I like the gay bits.”
“Move along, buddy,” I said.
“Can’t. Waiting.” He dragged another puff, inhaled, and exhaled a cloud of bluish smoke that caught the light. “You’re too touchy.”
“Let’s go,” Andrei said. “The clown’s trying to provoke you.”
“Swear to God, that’s not what I was doing,” the guy said. His facial tattoos seemed a scary thing all of a sudden. I had never been intimidated by another person in my life, not even when I was six and the playground bully noticed me. I’d always been bigger than most people. Maybe I didn’t have that edgy, mean air around me, but I could flatten a homophobe to the ground if he looked at us wrong.
But Andrei had always been gay. He’d told me all about it last night. He’d always had that sliver of discomfort, carrying it through like a wound that wouldn’t heal.
“Oh, it’s you,” another voice said. This one was familiar, and it raised the hairs on my neck.
Andrei snorted, pieces fitting together before I understood. Easton stepped into the pool of light, slipping into the stranger’s arms for a kiss.
“You put up a good fight, East,” said the guy.
“Thanks, Jace. That’s comforting,” the captain of the Steel Saints said with plenty of sarcasm to spare. He turned to us while the realization still rang through my ears.
The guy wasn’t a homophobe looking for a fight. He was Easton’s boyfriend, the one Phoenix had spoken about, the one Andrei knew of.
Easton cocked his head at us. “Aren’t you celebrating with your team?”
“We don’t make a big deal over easy wins,” I said with a laugh.
“Oof,” Jace said. “Bet you weren’t that cocky last year.”
But Easton laughed. “Fair enough. We can’t always be on top.”
Jace draped his arm over Easton’s shoulders, and I wanted to do the same to Andrei. But if I did, it would tell him more than I was sure I could promise. This irrational fear welled in me with growing intensity. What if I failed? What if I stumbled?
“You did well,” Easton said, settling in Jace’s protective hold. “Congrats on the win.”
“That’s sweet of you,” I said, voice airy as the feeling of inadequacy wrapped itself around my chest and squeezed me tighter. I wasn’t as good as Jace. I wasn’t as comfortable as Easton. I wasn’t as wonderful as Andrei. I was the impostor in this group.
“I was just asking if they were the famous ones,” Jace said. “Guess I stepped on some toes.”
“Yeah, they’re the ones,” Easton said. He looked us over. “We’ve seen the show.”
Andrei cleared his throat, a little more relaxed now that he was in a safer space. “You do know it’s all fake.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to go around telling people that,” Easton said with a cheeky smirk. “Ruins a fantasy.”
“Don’t tell me you’re writing fanfics,” I chuckled, discomfort lessening, but still there.
“SmutWriter, is that you?” Andrei laughed.
“They do that, don’t they?” Jace asked, a spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. He tossed the cigarette butt in the parking lot. “Can’t keep a secret if you wanted to.”
Andrei slouched a little more and shook his head. “But we’d like to, anyway.”
A knot untied in my chest. “For a while longer, at least.”Until I figure it all out, I thought. I was waiting for that special day when it all made sense. Would it ever come? Did such days exist, even?
“Gotcha,” Easton said. He cleared his throat. “Mind if I share some unsolicited advice?”
