Page 66 of Don't Say You're Sorry

Not knowing what that means, Nate glares at him. Axel lifts his hands in mock surrender.

Carter pulls himself up, pleased with himself as he picks up his chair.

“Go sit over there before I kill you.” Nate shoves his so-called best friend.

Shrugging, Carter grabs the edge of Axel’s seat and pushes him toward Nate, the barstool screeching loudly across the floor. He sits on Axel’s other side, leaving a barrier between him and Nate.

Carter manages to keep his mouth shut while we continue eating, the conversation moving on to basketball. Carter’s head seems to be somewhere else as he pushes his food around with his fork. But when it’s time for everyone to leave for class, Carter grabs his backpack and throws my brother a teasing look over his shoulder. “Later, straight boy.”

Axel lifts a hand and wiggles his fingers. “Bye, beautiful,” he says to Frankie.

Carter looks away, but not before I catch the slight flare of his nostrils.

Nate and Xavi leave shortly after, and then I’m finally alone with Easton and Axel and free to talk about what the hell just happened. “What?—”

“Eat,” they say at the same time, and I huff, looking down at my plate of hardly touched food.

Easton glares at Axel as if he wants to be the only one who gets to boss me around, his hand on my lower back, his fingers brushing my spine. I like the way it feels, which is why I pick up my fork and begin eating like he ordered me to, hoping it’ll keep his hand there. It works. But it doesn’t stop my mind from reeling. Carter fucked Xavi? When? I’m guessing it was before Nate and Xavi got together, but still. It obviously bothers Nate. What kind of person rubs it in their best friend’s face like that?

“Why are you all friends with him?” I ask Easton.

He laughs a little, his voice quiet as his fingers continue drawing little patterns on my back. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but Carter’s got a good heart. A big heart.”

“Where?” I deadpan.

“It’s in there,” he assures me. “He just doesn’t like to show it to anyone.”

I’m not sure I believe that.

I look at Axel to see if he agrees with me, but he’s already turned away from us to start the dishes.

With a moment of privacy, Easton stands, wraps his arms around me from behind, and puts his mouth near my ear, his lips brushing my lobe. “When’s your first proper shift at The Hideaway?”

“Tonight. Why?” I know why.

He hums in my ear. “I wanna play again.”

My dick is solid now, the tip brushing the edge of the worktop. My hips flex, the underside rubbing the marble. I suppress a groan and turn my head toward him.

“Will you wear this for me?” he whispers, fisting the shirt at my hip.

I take a breath. “I need to look hot, E. This is too big. Do you have something smaller? A vest, or?—”

“No. I like this one.”

“Why?” Again, I know why.

“Because it covers your body and stakes my claim. They might not know you’re mine, but they’ll know you’re a Hawk boy.That’shot, baby.”

A Hawk boy.

I smile. “I’ll have to take it off when it’s my turn on the podium.”

He seems to think about that before he turns my chair, making me face him fully. His eyes move over my shoulder before dropping to my body, his hand lifting the hem of his shirt to expose my torso. I already know what he’s about to do, and I shake my head in warning.Not in front of Axel.Still, my skin buzzes with anticipation.Do it.

Reading my mind, Easton lowers his head and presses his mouth to my chest, right above my tattoo. He sinks his teeth in, and I cover my mouth with my hand and grab the back of his head, my fingers raking through his hair as he brands me with his mark, then another one for good measure.

I didn’t get permission to touch him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He enjoys making me desperate and reckless.