Page 72 of Almost Ravaged

I’m fucking over the ambiguity of our relationship. Sooner rather than later, that girl is going to be all fucking mine.

Chapter twenty-six

Tytus

By the time I lumber into the locker room, half the guys are already heading for the showers. Atty’s on the bench in front of our lockers, stripped down to his base layers and grinning as Swayzee goes on about a game the team won last year.

I rip off my practice jersey and pads, and as I hit the bench to take off my skates, I turn away from Atty, who’s no longer smiling, but giving me probing side-glances. There’s no hiding my emotions from him. He knows me too well, but I can’t fucking explain to him that the reason my insides feel like they’re on fire right now is because of his sister.

I’ve stashed my skates and am gathering my sweaty base layers when he bumps his bare shoulder against mine. “You okay?”

I keep my head down. If I have to look him in the eye right now, if I have to see the golden flecks in his irises—the ones just like his sister’s—I might spiral again.

Not here. Not now.

“Fine.” Grunting, I rise to my feet and throw my sweat-soaked clothing into the laundry bin.

“We’re going out on Thursday night, boys,” Swayzee declares. “I want to see full participation from everyone who’s of age.” He squints at me, then Atty. “You in, Davvie-Davvie-Doo?”

Atty snorts. “You’vegotto come up with a better nickname.”

Tanvers snickers across the locker room. “I kind of like it.”

My best friend rises to his feet, shaking his head. “A nickname should be a shorter version of a person’s real name or a clever play on words. That’s neither.”

Swayzee twists up a towel, and as Tanvers walks past, he flicks it at him. As he’s winding it up again, he grimaces. “What the fuck, man? Are you an English major, or just a word nerd?”

He’s not far off the mark. Atticus hasn’t declared a major, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he chose English and followed in his father’s footsteps.

“Don’t even think about snapping me with that,” Atty warns.

Swayzee grins. “Oh yeah? Why not, Davvie-snacks?”

Atty groans. “Does it really have to be Scooby Doo-themed?” He stashes his phone, then stands and secures a towel around his waist.

Swayzee rubs his chin with his thumb. “I guess not. I’ll keep thinking on it. Give me until Thursday to figure it out. You guys are coming out with us, right?”

Atty turns and gives me a questioning look. I scowl back, refusing to commit.

“Ty?” he presses.

I run one hand through my sweat-soaked hair. I just want to fucking shower, so I push past him. “I’m not making plans until we talk to Sawyer.”

Swayzee doesn’t miss a fucking beat.

“Sawyer? Who’s Sawyer?”

The guy stops in front of me and turns.

I take a step forward, getting into his space, and he takes a step, then another, toward the showers. “Sawyer is Atty’s sister.” I leave it at that, letting my unamused scowl fill in the rest. A teammate’s sister is inherently off-limits.

“Wait. Hold up.” Swayzee’s eyes widen and dart from me to Atty. Then he breaks into a grin. “Sawyer’s the new girl on the crew. Bryant mentioned her. You’re telling me that redheaded bombshell who was sharpening skates this weekend is your sister?”

My spine turns to steel and my hands curl into fists on instinct.

“Watch it,” Atty warns from behind me.

“I’ll gladly watch that.” Swayzee rubs his hands together. “Sawyer, huh?Damn. She can come out with us on Thursday. We love us some preseason wabbit.”