Page 65 of Playing Dirty

Friday.

Three days is plenty of time for me to get my damn head on straight, right?

Though, from the way his smile sends my pulse into overdrive once I agree, I have a sneaking suspicion that will be easier said than done.

Eighteen

Theo

My heart thunders in my chest when I arrive home from practice Friday evening, and as I’m making a beeline for the staircase leading to my bedroom, I’m perfectly aware of how stupid it was to invite Madden over tonight. Screwing around with him may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but to do ithere?Where any of the guys could find out?

Jesus, it’s certifiable.

And with Holden and Phoenix not going to Camden’s game tonight, three out of my four roommates are currently home. So the odds aren’t exactly in my favor for getting him in and out of the house unnoticed.

Yet, as I climb the stairs and close myself inside the safety of my bedroom, all I feel is anticipation. Giddiness, even. And, honestly,thatis more than enough for me to consider an evaluation of my sanity.

After triple-checking the lock on my door, I quickly move over to the window and flip open the latch.

I had to send the most embarrassing text of my life after Phoenix told me they weren’t going to the game, asking Madden to climb through my bedroom window instead. I don’t think I’ll ever live that one down after he sent back a voice memo of him laughing for about thirty seconds straight.

But it was the better option than straight up cancelling in my book.

And his too, apparently, because there’s a soft tap on my window a few minutes later, alerting me of his arrival.

Madden’s gaze locks with mine through the glass, and I’m instantly at the sill, sliding the pane open for him. It’s not the easiest feat for him to fit his six-two frame through the tiny opening—especially to do so quietly—but he somehow manages before dragging a drawstring backpack through the opening after him.

He stumbles for a second, and I grab him instinctively, only for my hand to land on a sticky patch on his sleeve.

“Jesus, you’re covered in…” I trail off, not sure what the hell is all over his clothes. Sap, maybe? Definitely quite a bit of dirt and bark chips. There’s some in his hair too, and though I do my best to keep my composure, a choked laugh slips out.

He shoots me an unamused look. “Well, if you didn’t want to role play being in high school, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

The comment piques my interest, and a slow grin creeps over my lips. “Oh, really? And I assume sneaking into bedrooms was a common occurrence for you in those days?”

From looks alone—heavily inked skin and sharp edges—Madden reeks of the rebellious, up-to-no-good kind of guy all the fathers would try keeping their daughters away from. Or sons, in his case. But even withthe relatively minimal amount of time I’ve spent with him, it’s obvious he isn’t the type to bend the rules, let alone break them.

Oblivious to my internal musings, Madden drops his bag to the ground and rolls his eyes. “Not the point at all, but sure, let’s deflect why you didn’t let me walk through the front door like a normal person.”

Frowning, I state the obvious. “Because none of the guys can see you.”

“I thought they were gone for the game.”

I shake my head. “Just the one.”

His lips form a tight line while his gaze maps my face. “And what part of this are you trying to keep under wraps, exactly? That you’re seeing a guy and not ready to come out, or that the guy you’re seeing happens to be your stepbrother?”

The question takes me off guard. Neither of those things have entered the equation for me, but honestly, they feel a lot more acceptable than the truth: that I’m shamefully messing around with the Blackmore captain.

“I’m not exactly looking to…outmyself when I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of this, no. But you being my stepbrother isn’t really…” I trail off, looking for the right words.

Our parents being married—the technicality of our relation—doesn’t even factor in for me. Maybe it’d be different if we’d grown up in the same house and were raised as siblings, but as it stands, I don’t give two shits.

I shrug before going with, “I don’t know, it’s not some kinda weird forbidden or taboo thing to me. We’re both adults who can make their own choices.”

Granted, I don’t think Dad and Carla would see it that way, but…

He smirks as he steps closer and wraps his arms around my waist.