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I dodge his next punch and land a solid hit on his ribs, making him stagger. “Maybe I just wanted to kick your ass today,” I say, a smirk tugging at my lips. Xav recovers quickly, his expression serious.

“Yeah, right. Spill it, Brad. What’s really going on?”

I sigh, throwing another punch. “Just... stuff. You know how it is.”

Xav blocks my punch and lands a quick jab to my side. “Yeah, I know. But it’s better to talk about it than let it eat you up.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Regret tugs at me for asking him to come.

“But you need to. You can’t keep shit bottled up. Something’s bothering you.”

“Just need to let off some steam. Shut up now,” I say through gritted teeth.

I throw another series of jabs, putting more force behind each one. Xav doesn’t move quick enough, and I land one on his chin, but he recovers fast, grabbing me around the midsection and shoving me to the ground with an oof. He pins me down with his elbow, all upin my personal space, feeling like dead weight on me. The restrictive hold makes my blood boil, and I’m seconds away from kicking him in the balls if he doesn’t get the fuck off me.

“Nah, I know you better than that, bro,” Xav says, his face too close for comfort.

“Get. The. Fuck. Off. Me.” My annoyance reaches a peak. With a grunt, I shove him off me with all my strength, and he falls to the floor beside me.

We both lie on the rubber mats, breathing heavily. The ceiling lights above us seem blindingly bright in the silence that follows. Xav breaks the silence first.

“So, is this about work?”

“No.” I let out a frustrated sigh.

“Dad again?” he tries, turning his head to look at me.

“No,” I mutter again, staring at the ceiling.

“Well, fuck. Give me something, mate,” Xav sighs, exasperated. “Does this have anything to do with a girl?” I stay silent, my fists still clenched at my sides.

“Ah. I see,” he says, a knowing tone in his voice.

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.” The words spill out before I can stop them.

Xav turns onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me better. “This is about Amelia, isn’t it?”

I look at him in disbelief. “What? No,” I say quickly. Then I pause, feeling the weight of the words I’m about to say. “Wait. How do youknow?”

Xav snorts. “This all sounds way too familiar. Like déjà vu or some shit.”

I frown, turning my head to look at him. “How?”

“Mate, you’re acting just like I did when I first met Isla—confused, conflicted, scared shitless of messing it up,” Xav says with a smirk.

“I don’t know what it is,” I sigh. “All I know is its confusing as fuck.”

Xav chuckles. “Yeah, love’ll do that to ya.”

“This isn’t love,” I protest.

“Yeah, maybe not yet.” He shakes his head. “Look, whatever it is, I think you’re overthinking it, mate. If you like Amelia, then go for it.”

I shake my head, frustration creeping in. “I shouldn’t, though. She’s Liv’s best friend.”

“So fucking what? She’ll get over it,” Xav exclaims with a frown.

“It’s not that simple,” I argue.