Page 35 of Two days, One Pucking Night

He drapes another kiss over my forehead, seemingly satisfied with my response.

“In your family, who is your person?” There is a silence, a stillness that follows my question.

Xavier’s nose flares, his heartbeat accelerates against my chest, and his muscles tighten.

His phone ringing breaks the silence.

The question that now lingers as a whispered ghost over our heads. Xavier rushes to his feet, tugs at his pants on the floor, and pulls out his phone.

“I’m going to shower,” I mouth when the phone is pressed to his ear. I quickly pick up the scattered remains of my clothes.

“Coach,” I hear as I head back into my room.

My phone lights up, and I see several messages from Zayn, but one, in particular, catches my attention.

Remember he is a brother to me.

My heart skips a beat, and without even reading the rest of the thread, I tap the Call button next to his name.

An unease settles in my chest, and a flurry of thoughts passes through my mind. I’m grown, and yes, I can sleep with whoever I want. Zayn doesn’t have a say over that. But I understand optics and semantics. It won’t look right if I sleep with one of his teammates, especially his best friend.

“Sof.” It’s daytime in San Francisco. I can hear the roar of Zayn’s car as he answers.

“Hey, Zee. Are you alone?” I have to ask because I’m not a friend of his long-time girlfriend, and I don’t think she particularly cares for me either.

He exhales a frustrated sigh, one I’ve become familiar with, especially since I became vocal about my dislike of her. “It’s just me.” Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were tailing me?”

“Sof, anything could have happened,” his voice rises an octave, and his tone irks me.

I’m twenty, not twelve. I’m grown enough to travel and do what the hell I want without having to report my every move. “And you invaded my privacy, Zee. Would you have done that to Bree?”

“It’s not the same!”

“Because you’re fucking me?”

“Sof.”

“What?” I raise my voice, too, because for too long, I’ve allowed a lot of things to pass without expressing how it makes me feel.

”Okay,” I can hear the resignation in his voice.

“Okay?”

“You’re right. I should have told Mom no.”

I can feel his sincerity, but I know my brother—he tries to avoid conflict so he doesn’t have to deal with the bigger issue.

“Can we go back to being normal now? What did you do today? Did you go sightseeing?”

“Something like that,” I reply blandly, still pissed about what he did and how he’s trying to swipe it under the carpet without explicitly calling my mom out on her bullshit.

“Where’s Xav?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since I left this morning. I’m sure he’s out with a groupie or whatever you guys do in your free time.” I’m babbling, but I can’t shift the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Zayn suspects something. “Why, what’s up?”

“I’ve been trying to reach him all day. It isn’t like him not to respond,” He’s mumbling, distracted.

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