Page 15 of Wrecked Rose

“Nope. Griff’s pretty sure of himself, I think. And he was tanked, too—he’d disappeared for a bit with a friend and when he came down to hang with us said he thought he’d had one too many drinks. Then when you rested your head on his chest, he laughed and said he’d be your man pillow, no problem.”

Daph wrinkles her nose. “Pretty sure you were both about as fucked up as I’ve seen either of you.” Eyeing my stiff body language, she pulls me into a hug. “I doubt he remembers any of it either.”

“Well, I woke up on him, and he knows that.”

She gives me ayikesface. “And did he freak or laugh it off? Or both?”

“He looked a little freaked at first, but… I think we’re past it.” Okay. If that’s all that happened, maybe everything is fine. And Daph doesn’t seem aware that I kissed the same guy she’d kissed at homecoming—because, if I’m being honest, that’s more than a little awkward.

Thankfully, it sounds like I didn’t make a complete jackass out of myself. But I’ve got to put him out of my head before I do.

Chapter 10

Griff

I’ve spent the last two days pummeling my body with hard-core workouts. Every time I start to think a little too much, I come straight down to the gym. I’ve run more miles on the treadmill, done more reps on the rowing machine, and lifted more weights than ever before. The effect is a stronger but completely exhausted body. The purpose was to quiet my mind. It’s worked—to a certain extent.

I keep telling myself I’m doing all of this because baseball season is coming… but that’s a big, fat lie. I need to make my mind shut up and shut off.Runaway brain, you don’t get to play anymore. You’re done.

I can’t stop thinking about the bizarre way I’ve responded to Max. He’s flirty. He’s funny. And damn, I like just about everything about him. Except, I know I’m not gay. There’s no way. I definitely like girls. But Max is not a girl, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to fucking do with that. I can’t wrap my head around what’s happening to me. And there’s a tiny seed of doubt that keeps creeping in, because maybe I do notice men more than the average man does. How the hell am I supposed to know?

What I do know is that I’ve never acted upon any of what I’d always thought were errant thoughts. Never before reacted the way I have to Max. I know I need to figure this out eventually. But not right now.

Right now, I’ll do my usual thing and continue to ignore it.

I’m hammering the hell out of a punching bag when Lyla ducks into the gym.

“Hey.” She waves and gives me a grin.

I glance over at her before landing one final punishing blow to the bag, then grab it to stop its motion. I’m sweating heavily and can barely give her a nod.

Her brows lift. “You planning on kicking someone’s ass?” She snickers. “Because from the looks of it, I think you might be ready soon.”

I grunt and throw a few more punches for good measure. “Not really. Just my own ass, I guess. Gotta get ready for baseball.”Liar.

“Well, you’re doing a good job of it.” She gives my body a cursory glance. “You look great. Do you feel ready? You’ve still got a month or so to go, right?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Still breathing hard, I hope she assumes that my short answers have more to do with being interrupted mid-workout than the fact that I’m keeping the actual reasons for this punishment to myself.

She chews on her lip for a few seconds, then says with a sigh, “My season ends soon. I’m kinda depressed.”

Surprised, I meet her slightly sad gaze. “Yeah, but didn’t I hear you have a bunch of universities looking to give you scholarships?”

Her attitude perks up pretty quickly at the reminder, and she winks, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “Yep.”

Good for her. I’m glad. She deserves all of that, just like she deserves her newfound happiness with Beau.

“I knew you had it in you. You’re a badass. It was obvious from the day we met.”

“Thanks. So, I’m curious, Griff.” She taps her finger to her chin, thoughtfully. “You said you’re doing this because of baseball season. Can’t you wait for your baseball coach to hand your ass to you in a few weeks? Or do you always do this before your season starts?”

I smirk at her as I pull off my gloves. “You do realize how ridiculous these questions are coming out of Little Miss Gym, right?” I quickly unwrap my hands and flex and contract my fingers for a few seconds while I debate if I need to say anything else.

“Griff—” She stops with a little huff. “If you need someone to talk to, you’d say something, right?”

I side-eye her as I sit down to work my quads on the leg press. I make a show of adding weights to it. Once I’ve gotten settled on the seat, I take a deep breath and exhale as I push to extend my legs. “I’m good, Lyla.” Gritting my teeth, I glance at her once more to see she’s planted her hands on her hips and is studying me with a single-minded intensity that makes me wonder if she can see into my head and knows exactly what I’m thinking. What I’m feeling … or rather, trying not to feel. I ease the weights back to starting position before I push them away from me again with a grunt.

“Mm-kay. You’re not talking. When you’re ready, you know where I am.”

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