Page 58 of Wrecked Rose

A few minutes later, I’m still standing in the middle of my room in a daze when there’s a quick knock and the door flies open.

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline when it registers that it’s Callum and Jack standing in the doorway.Holy shit.I hadn’t locked the door. If they’d been five minutes earlier… My heart slams around inside my rib cage just thinking about what would have happened.

My eyes flick to the bathroom, and I feel a little sick when it occurs to me that this could still go very, very wrong.

Jack throws his arms up. “There you are! We’ve been looking for you all over to come do shots with us.”

“Fuck, dude. You were hilarious jumping in the snow like that. So fucking funny.” Callum snorts with laughter. “The other three guys were even better, though.”

I give a cautious laugh, wincing a bit when I realize the water has stopped running in the shower.Shit.

“Fucking rolling around, pounding on each other. I’m surprised that fairy, Max, didn’t stay in the snow to roll around with them,” Jack sneers, rolling his eyes. “You know that fudge packer had his eyes on your ass the entire time you were both running around, right?”

I practically choke on air, and my face heats at the slurs.Oh, Max, please don’t walk out of the bathroom anytime soon.I recover as quickly as I can.“He can look all he wants. Can you really fucking blame him?” I shrug, putting my hands on my hips.

Callum laughs, oblivious to my discomfort. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

“Speaking of,”—Jack flips his thumb toward the bathroom—“sounds like your pussy is ready and waiting for you to bang her. I guess we’ll catch you later if you ever come up for air.” He holds up his hand, and I give him a rather unenthusiastic high five back. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. Probably too damn drunk, thank goodness.

“Yeah. Can’t keep that pussy waiting, man.” I grit my teeth, instantly regretting my words as Callum and Jack stumble out. I whip the door shut behind them and throw the lock. Leaning back against the door, I shut my eyes.Fuck.That was close.

The bathroom door opens and warm, steamy air billows out into the room. The distinct sound of a throat clearing puts me on edge.

“Well. That was interesting.”

My eyes spring open to find Max, arms folded, shoulder leaning against the side of the doorway. He stands there with a towel wrapped around his hips looking anything but happy.

“Max. You know I—” I step close to him, tentatively touching his arm, my fingers grazing over his shower-heated skin.

“Don’t.” He pulls away from me, pushing to stand upright. “I totally get it. You aren’t even out to your friends yet, so saying something to an ignorant fucker like Jack isn’t going to happen.”

I swallow hard. Fuck. He’s not wrong. “I—”

Max shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop me. He glances at his wet boxer briefs where I’d tossed them on the floor and gives a little sigh as he picks up his jeans from his pile of clothing and struggles to pull them up his still-damp legs.

“Max,” I growl. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Grabbing his shirt, he yanks it over his head and shrugs into it. “Maybe not, and that’s understandable. But don't deny you didn't just tell them you couldn’t keep your pussy waiting.” His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head a bit as he looks into my eyes. “Griff, last I checked it wasn’t my pussy you were so interested in.” He sits down on the edge of the bed, struggles into his socks and steps into his unlaced athletic shoes. “Oh, and you still need to lose the asshole friends. Jack’s an ignorant dick, and Callum’s acceptance of the bullshit Jack spews isn’t much better.”

Chapter 35

Griff

Tuesday, we’re getting to the end of French class and I’m trying like hell to focus on Madame Donnet’s explanation of the present and past conditional tenses, but my mind is anywhere but on how to properly conjugate verbs.

When we’re finally done with the grammar lesson for the day and are given some free time to practice what we’ve learned, Lyla leans across the aisle, tapping her pencil on my desk. “You’ve been quiet the last couple of days.”

I glance up to see Madame Donnet writing out the homework assignment for us on the board. My eyes flick to Lyla’s, and I shrug. “I’m good.”

Her brows draw together as she whispers, “Is there a reason Max sat clear across the room today and won’t look at you?”

“Later, Lyla.”

She huffs out a breath and crosses her arms. Her gaze moves from me to Max and then back, her brow furrowing. “I’m worried about you. I thought—”

“I kinda fucked it up already. Just leave it.”

Beau leans around Lyla to pin his concerned gaze on me. “What did you fuck up?”

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