Page 101 of Playing Dirty

But Oakley’s gaze is hard and penetrating, locking on me like a missile to a target.

“Do you remember what I told Holden last year?” he asks. “When he had his big meltdown about Phoenix andtheirwhole secret fling?”

The only thing I remember from that whole roommate meeting was dumping popcorn on Camden’s head when he said something stupid—though stupid comments from Cam are a relatively common occurrence. Which is why I blink a couple times before shaking my head.

Oakley licks his lips and glances at Quinton before murmuring, “When it’s your forever on the line—”

“—all the codes and rules go right out the damn window,” I finish for him, somehow pulling the advice from the recesses of my memory. Yet, my mind snags on one minor detail, and I shake my head. “But no one said anything about forever.”

“Then why can’t you just let him go?” Quinton inquires while resting his chin in his hands.

“I never said—”

“Not in so many words, but it’s obvious. It’s why this whole thing is tearing you up inside,” Oakley points out, offering asympathetic smile. “Even if it’s subconsciously, you know there’s something more here, and that’s why you won’t just walk away.”

“Not to mention, you willingly walked into enemy territory for a game night. And now you’re going to see a college production of a musical, not because he loves them, but because one of his best friends is in it. Because it’s important to you that his friends like you.” Quinton’s brow arches, and there’s a patronizing smile on his lips when he says, “Theo, I say this with love, but you’re kinda fucked.”

“That’s not helpful at all,” Oakely chides while shooting a glare at Quinton.

I don’t have the chance to rebut before the sound of the lock disengaging alerts me to Phoenix getting back to the room.

He looks just as tired as I feel once he appears around the corner, but when he hears Quinton start bickering with Oakley about the “being helpful” comment, Phoenix perks up a bit.

“Hey, who’s on the phone?”

“Quinton and Oakley,” I supply.

A brief flicker of surprise crosses his face, but he drops on my bed beside me, instantly coming into frame. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“Had a free minute to call and check in,” Oakley says with ease. “And to tell Theo here to stop stealing my boyfriend.”

If Phoenix is confused by the comment, he doesn’t let on. Then again, that’s likely because I quickly deflect Oakley’s statement by saying, “Pretty sure that’s Phoenix’s MO, not mine.”

Quinton chokes out a laugh. “Damn, that was cold. I knew I liked you.”

Phoenix narrows his eyes on me, and I’m fully prepared for his counter attack. But surprisingly, he just sticks his tongue in his cheek and nods.

“You know, I’ll let you have that one. You’re still a dick, but that was pretty good.”

Twenty-Six

Madden

“You’re putting too much weight on your back leg when you switch to hit lefty.”

I step away from the plate and shift my attention to Theo, who’s watching me intently from outside the batting cage. We’ve been coming back here at least once a week to take batting practice together, sometimes more than that if we can swing it—literally and figuratively.

It’s been a nice way to remove ourselves from campus and the rivalry, allowing us to simply enjoy the game we’ve both grown up loving—and to get some one-on-one time with him outside the bedroom too.

Though, I’d be lying if I said he isn’t driving me up a wall with his back-seat coaching right now.

“I’ve been hitting left-handed since I was thirteen,” I remind him. “You reallythink—”

“I think you’re putting too much weight on your back foot when you load to stride.” He cuts me off with an antagonistic smile. “And I think that’s why you struggle to make any worthwhile connection with the ball, which ends up tanking your batting average every game you switch.”

He did not just—

“It doesn’ttank,” I insist, albeit rather defensively.