Page 33 of Don't Say You're Sorry

After practice, Carter and I all but stumble over each other as we head to the locker room to join our teammates. Coach thought we weren’t close enough to our deathbeds yet, so he made us keep running suicides even after the others had been told to hit the showers. It’s only when Carter and I fell to our hands and knees that he clicked his tongue and dismissed us with a wave.

Lost in my thoughts, I take a longer shower than I normally do, tipping my head back as the hot water soothes my aching muscles. I’m thinking about Adam again, wondering if he called the number Frankie wrote on his hand this morning. My teeth clench at the thought, but I hope he did all the same. It’ll be fun to play with him. To see who breaks first…

My head lowers as my hand travels down to my dick, but then I hear the shower next to me shut off, and I snap out of it, shutting mine off too.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I walk out to find only Nate and Carter standing at their lockers. The others must have left already. I was so up in my head I didn’t realize how quiet it was in here until now.

Carter’s buck naked, his towel dropped to his feet, and Nate’s fully clothed, typing something on his phone. He’s probably fixing to get home to Xavi, but he’s stalling for some reason. Carter’s not saying a word, which, again, is odd. He usually doesn’t shut the fuck up.

While we get dressed side by side, I ask him quietly, “What’s your problem?”

He snaps his head to mine, a rare glare on his face. When he continues with the silent treatment, I raise my brows at him, not letting him off the hook.

“Say it.”

His glare only deepens. “Why do you seem so…”

“What?”

“Happy? Every time I look at you today, it’s like you’ve got hearts in your eyes or some shit. Did you forget what that guy did to you?”

Nate’s eyes lift from his phone, his gaze bouncing between us. He’s not even bothering to pretend he’s not listening to our hushed conversation.

“No,” I say. “I didn’t.”

“You know he’s gonna leave you again, right?” Carter mumbles as he pulls up his jeans. “You start sneaking around with him again, he’s gonna shit himself and run away. Just like he did last time.”

“I know what I’m doing, Carter.”

“Do you?”

I sigh. “Look, I’m just having a little fun with him while it lasts, okay? The sooner I get him into my bed, the sooner he leaves. For good this time.”

He frowns. “Who the fuck are you kidding? Iknowyou, E. You don’t want to scare him away. You want him back.”

“Mind your business.”

“Youaremy business.” He steps closer, pulling on my chin to get me to look at him. “Have you forgotten how much of a mess you were the day I picked you up from Lauren’s?—”

“Carter.”

“What?”

“Leave it alone.”

Throwing his hands up, he grabs his bag, turns around, and storms out of the locker room.

After a moment, Nate steps up beside me, our eyes on the door. “What’s wrong with him?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

Closing my locker, I grab my shit and jog out the door, catching up to Carter in the parking lot.

“Hey,” I call. “Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not.”

Grabbing his shoulder, I turn him to face me fully. “Then what is it?”