Page 106 of Burn

Thank you for what? Lying, manipulating, and violating my basic privacy?

Nothing seems to fit the situation, so I open the door and settle on silence. I step into the hall, and the tension in my chest starts to lift, illuminating how bad my heart aches. It’s a flash decision, I think. I was so determined not to see him before leaving, but now, as I stand on the cusp of escape, I can’t let the last image of him in my mind be him unlocking the cuffs on my battered wrists.

My mind chastises me, ‘You’ll regret this.’

My heart is a weak bitch and as it tears apart, it cries, ‘You need this.’

I spin around and steal one final glance as the door closes. Adrian sits, hunched over on the couch, his head in his hands. He doesn’t move; he barely breathes. He’s a physical replica of a Van Gogh drawing I learned about in art history, a drawing I’d forgotten until this moment. His body radiates despair, exhaustion, and complete sorrow.

My mind was right.

I absolutely regret looking.

Coils

Adrian

Two Months Later

“And action!” Brittney shouts at us from behind her cell phone.

Cally clears his throat and sits up straight. He’s in the middle of the team, and we’re sitting in the stands of our home arena. It’s our home opener tonight, and the game starts in a few hours. “I just need to preface this with, I’m doing this against my will,” Cally grumbles.

Brittney sighs and rolls her eyes, pausing the recording. “Colton, please! Let’s go. We don’t have all day. You want to warm up, right?” Her eyebrow quirks up. “Well, this will get you guys warm, but you know what I mean.”

The guys are in their gear and fidgeting in their seats. This is the last thing I want to do, but when I objected, Brittney not so casually reminded me that it’s part of our player agreements, not to mention our brand sponsors. A local bookstore is paying for this video, and when Britt told us the amount they forked over for us to sit here and listen to our teammate read literary sex scenes to us, I almost fell over.

Cally groans and lifts the paperback, but Brittney jumps in with one more thought before he can start. “Don’t forget to say the name and author of the book. The store wants to ensure credit is given.”

I can’t bite my tongue anymore. “Oh, of course. Wouldn’t want to forget that critical part of the video.”

“Shut it, Adrian,” she spits, firing an irritated glare my way.

I lean back and cross my arms over my chest, heat rising in my chest over this idiotic situation. This is my last year. I can’t keep doing this shit. It was bad last year, and she’d mentioned doing this then, but it never happened. Cally, Ronan, and I assumed she forgot about it and promised we’d never mention it to her again.

Turns out she was negotiating sponsorship in exchange for this video of us humiliating ourselves. She signals Cally to proceed, and he flips the page marked with a tag. He reads quietly, and his eyes go wide. His attention shoots back to Brittney.

“Come on, Britt. You gotta be kidding me?!”

Based on that reaction, I assume we’re in for something ridiculous. She smiles brightly and nods with excitement.

Cally sighs, and says, “I better not catch shit for this in the locker room later.” With one final inhale, he starts. “The book is ‘The Sacrifice’ by Shantel Tessier.” He holds up the book, flashing the cover at the camera. “His thumb runs along my upper lip before tracing the bottom,” One of the guys snickers, and another makes an ‘oooh’ noise. “I can’t wait to see you on your knees,”

Ronan interrupts, “Same!”

Cally flashes him a grin and repeats, “I can’t wait to see you on your knees, crying for me while you…” He hesitates. “Choke on my cock.”

In the middle of taking a swig from his water bottle, Anton coughs and sprays water all over the back of Wes’s head.

“Jesus Christ!” Anton sputters. “Why is it always choking?! Whatever happened to some good, old-fashioned cuddling?!”

Wes spins, wiping the water off the back of his head, and says, “I’ll cuddle with you. You’ve got a pretty mouth.”

The guys erupt into a series of laughter and shocked commentary.

“Fuck, Britt! My grandma follows our socials!”

“I think I need a shower.”