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“You made Emir look bad back there.”

“So what?” Mason throws his arms up. “All of a sudden you care about Shah? People think he’s a joke.”

Sebastian says, “You’re the joke here, dude,” with more frustration than he’s ever directed at Mason. Their squabbles are brutally short, ending over pizza and laughs. After Mason’s dad left, Sebastian unconsciously adopted Mason into his life, and a reason to eject him has never existed.

“Don’t be a tool,” Mason says through his teeth. He blinks so much, Sebastian’s not sure if it’s rain or tears wetting his cheeks.

“You didn’t have to do that, Mace. He didn’t deserve that.”

“It is what it is. Get over it.” Mason’s neck is stretched; his repressed swallow is visible. Cold blue-green eyes match the stubborn jut of his chin. “I don’t get you, bro. Ever since he came around, you’ve been picking sides and… I just don’t get you.”

Me neither. If the roles had been reversed, Emir would’ve stood up for him if someone was being an ass. At least, the younger Emir would have.

“Not cool, Bastian.” Mason knocks his shoulder against Sebastian’s as he stomps away.

Sebastian doesn’t say a word to stop him.

When he turns, Sebastian catches Emir shivering and smiling sheepishly at Hunter’s reenactment of a big play Emir made during the game. “Dude, it was like, epic!” Hunter shouts, jumping up and down.

Emir lifts his chin higher. He bites his lip, turning it red and swollen, soft-looking.

Hunger that has absolutely nothing to do with food erupts in Sebastian’s stomach. It spreads to his chest. His heart slams into his ribs like a gorilla trying to break free of a cage. Emir looks just as hungry. “Holy shit,” Sebastian says under his breath.

Emir walks across the field toward his cabin quickly, as if he’s trying not to be caught.

And Sebastian, confused but excited, uses the returning storm as camouflage. He pulls up his hood and hugs himself against the pulsing downpour. He ducks between the trees like a special ops soldier. Nothing can get in the way of what he wants more than anything:Emir.

16

Emir is perched on theedge of the bed in the dark when Sebastian walks through the door. For once, it was slightly ajar, as if Emir was waiting for Sebastian. He’s not expecting candles and a killer Ed Sheeran love anthem when he closes the door. Things like that happen in Anne Hathaway movies. But he doesn’t know what to do because the shadows hide Emir’s expression.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

Maybe its Sebastian’s voice breaking the silence or being soaked to the bone in the aftermath of the scrimmage, but Emir says, “Now you know what I’m thinking?” with an accusatory tone.

“Possibly.” Sebastian flails his arms. “If you’d give me a chance to, I dunno, get toknowyou more.”

“You knew me once.”

Sebastian grinds his teeth. He gets it. He messed up a long time ago, but Emir did, too. This isn’t all on him. Sebastian was—Sebastianisa good friend, but Emir won’t give him a bloody chance…

Now the damn voices in his head have replicated Emir’s accent!

“I was just coming to tell you,” Sebastian sighs and runs a twitchy hand through his damp hair, “that you did great, Em.”

“Is that all?”

No. Sebastian doesn’t say it. He just doesn’t understand when simply talking to a friend, or whatever Emir is, became an exercise in ripping open his stitched-up heart to let his emotions bleed all over the place.

“I’m not the enemy,” he says, stepping forward. “I’m not.”

“No.” Emir’s mouth gradually twitches downward. “You’re just the guy who won’t leave me alone.”

Sebastian winces. Fury bubbles in his throat. Emir’s being an absolute asshole. So, no, Sebastian isn’t going to leave until he figures out what the hell’s going on inside him that draws him to someone who seems to hate his guts.

“So that’s it?” He’s shouting, but whatever. “You want me to back off?” Sebastian stalks over to Emir. “Just say something!”

Emir doesn’t, but he stands and closes the distance between them.