Page 25 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

Madden

I’m dead tired and wishing like hell for a few more hours of sleep when my alarm sounds the following morning. It takes everything in me to pull myself from bed and dress for the day, knowing a grueling practice and two classes await me, but I do it anyway.

Only there’s something—or rather some one— else waiting for me when I leave the haven of my bedroom, which I failed to take into account until right now. Then again, it’s hard to miss Miles’s smug, shit-eating smirk when it’s aimed at me from behind his morning coffee.

“Are we gonna talk about it, or…”

I shoot him a dirty look. “It’s too early and I’m too tired to deal with your shit this morning.”

He doesn’t even have the decency of hiding his enjoyment of this when he mutters, “Yeah, it sounded like the two of you really wore each other out.”

“Miles,” I warn, aiming another glare. “Don’t push your luck.”

Setting his mug on the counter, he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, just be happy Vaughn wasn’t here too, or you’d never be hearing the end of it.”

However valid his point may be, I doubt I will regardless. Miles may like to pretend he’s above all that, but deep down, he likes the gossip as much as Vaughn does. Maybe even more.

“I can’t stand you,” I gripe.

“As is natural for all best friends.”

“If you keep this shit up, you’re not gonna have any friends.”

His laugh is instant and full of glee—far more than anyone should have before six-thirty on a Monday. “Someone’s testy this morning. Stepbro clearly didn’t dick you down well enough if that’s the case.”

Oh, that’s fuckin’ it.

I slam the cabinet closed and spin on my heel. “I said we’re not fucking talking about it, Miles. So drop it.”

To his credit, he does shut up…for about twenty seconds. Though, I think part of it was me stunning him speechless with the frustrated, irritable snappiness in my tone, because when he does find his voice, he’s the same, infuriating Miles I’ve known for years.

Regardless, it’s just enough time for me to pour a cup of coffee for myself before he speaks again.

“Damn,” he whispers, equal parts shock and awe. “He’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t he?”

Yeah, he has. And Miles doesn’t even know the half of it. If he did, he’d realize he just made the understatement of the millenia.

Theo Greyson hasn’t just gotten under my skin. He’s clawed his way into my psyche, burrowed himself through muscle and cartilage, sliced straight to the bone—and he’s managed this in an unthinkably short amount of time.

Then again, maybe he started carving away at me long before I even realized it.

Miles must see something in my expression, because when I glance up at him, that stupid, stupid smirk is permanently fixed in place at this point. “Oof, Maddy Boy. The silence is deafening.”

If I wasn’t already annoyed, the use of that goddamn nickname would certainly do the trick. But combined with the truth in his words, the only thing I can do is sigh and drop onto one of the stools at the counter.

“I guess we’re doing this after all.”

“You always cave so easily.”

“Because I know how to pick my battles, and this gossip is too juicy for you to go without,” I say on a scoff.

Miles presses his hand to his chest, feigning a sweet innocence he doesn’t really possess. “It’s only taken you years to truly understand me. I’m glad we’ve reached this point in our relationship.”

“I also know you well enough to realize you have an opinion you’re dying to not keep to yourself. So say what you gotta say, jackass. Then we can both move on with our lives.”

“You say that like I’m gonna lecture you. Which I wasn’t planning—”

“Good, because we both know you have no leg to stand on,” I cut in, arching a brow.

His lips twitch and he nods. “Yes, exactly. But I do want to make sure you’re sure this is a good idea.

” For the first time all morning, his expression becomes more somber.

“I’m your best friend, man. And, I mean, taking out the whole stepbrother and school rivalry part, he’s still said some really fucked-up shit to you. About you too.”

There’s a beat where I have to swallow down the knot forming in my throat, but it does no good, my response coming out raw and grated anyway.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then as your best friend—who has never once been the voice of reason—I’m gonna ask you again: Do you think this is a good idea?”

I shake my head. “Not in the slightest.”

But I’m long past the point of pretending like I don’t feel something for him. That hasn’t been an option for a long time—since before I ever knew the way he tasted or the sounds he makes when he comes. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

My best friend—though I’m seriously reconsidering that title at the moment—leans back against the counter beside the sink.

From his body language alone, eyes staring intently and a slight cock of his head, it’s obvious he’s locked in on the conversation now.

And more importantly, he’s not going anywhere until he’s satisfied he’s gotten all the answers.

“Was it just a lapse in judgment? I mean, the last I heard, he left you stranded at the ski resort.”

I roll my eyes, both at his exaggeration and his inability to understand what I don’t want to talk about it means.

“I wasn’t stranded . Mom and Adam were still there.”

He waves me off. “Dress it up however you want, he left you there without a word. So catching him mid-walk of shame out of your bedroom was a plot twist I didn’t see coming.”

Miles’s brown eyes study me, waiting for an answer I really don’t wanna give.

Not because of lack of trust, but because I know how stupid it was to let Theo into my bed last night.

But to admit it’s not the first time I’ve tasted him?

That I’ve fallen into this ploy, driven by lust and desire alone, more than once?

He’s going to have a hayday with that information.

But regardless, I find myself releasing a long, drawn-out sigh before handing it over anyway.

“We kind of…hooked up in Vermont.”

A slow grin creeps over his face, the one he wears whenever he knows he was right about something, and it instantly irritates me. But not as much as him announcing, “I totally called that.”

“Bullshit you did.”

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously I wasn’t certain, but I had a feeling something happened between the two of you. Specifically, something that involved using your mouths for more than just picking fights.”

That’s one way of putting it.

“Yeah, well…that’s why he left me ‘stranded,’” I say, using air quotes around the last word. “He had a mild freak-out and bolted.”

His face draws up in a wince. “Oof. That’s…”

“Messy?” I supply, feeling something of a grimace painting itself on my lips too.

“I was gonna go with fucked-up, but messy works too.”

His ridiculous summation is more accurate than I’d like, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Not that he really gives me the chance, because he immediately dives into his next inquiry.

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

I toss my hand up and gawk at him. “Jesus Christ. I don’t know, Miles. Can we not play this game of Twenty Questions right now?”

There’s a brief second where he’s silent, pursing his lips while staring at me, and just when I think he’s gonna drop it…

“Just be careful, okay?” he says, and his expression turns into one of concern. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’re not the type to do things halfway. I’d hate to see you wind up breaking all your rules for someone who wouldn’t do the same.”

The words are a punch to the gut, because…that’s just the problem, isn’t it?

When it comes to guys, I’ve been disciplined as hell these past two and a half years. I’ve had a few hookups, went out on a couple dates—some as recent as this fall—but I don’t let them distract me from what’s important. Why I’m really here.

Baseball.

Then Theo came in—this messy ball of chaos and disarray—inflicting all this damage with one goddamn kiss, and I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t leave me a bit off balance.

Even if it was just lust in the moment, it was enough to pull my attention away from my goals, not to mention the handful of other reasons this thing between us should never move past last night.

But if there’s even the slightest chance it wasn’t a fluke? That whatever is building between us has just begun?

Fuck. Distraction may as well be Theo’s new middle name.

So the question isn’t what am I gonna do about what’s happened. It’s a bell that can’t be unrung. Which means the next best option is to just make sure it doesn’t affect the end goal. I need to keep up my grades, get drafted, and eventually work my way to being called up.

I’ve worked too hard for it to go any other way.

Miles lets me stew in my thoughts for a bit, finishing his coffee from across the island in silence, which I’m grateful for.

I don’t know if I could take going down the rabbit hole of rapid-fire questions he has at the ready.

And from the way he loiters in the kitchen for a little too long, is still very much dying to ask.

“Oh my God, what?” I finally snap when he glances up from where he’s been meticulously washing his mug by hand for the last five minutes.

“Can I just ask one more question?”

Technically that already was one, but rather than point that out, I blow out an exasperated breath and toss my hand up for him to go for it.

“Sure. Why the fuck not?”

“Are you gonna tell your mom?” He frowns, then adds, “Assuming she doesn’t already know about why he left you, I guess.”

The question gives me pause. Not because they already know about why Theo made such a hasty departure.

I didn’t offer any sort of explanation to Adam and Mom, and they didn’t ask for one.

Truthfully, I think both of them were surprised Theo lasted as long as he did.

I could tell Adam was disappointed he left without a word, though, with the way he kept glancing at Theo’s empty seat every time he missed a meal.