Page 45 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

He’s equally amused and incredulous, if the way he’s fighting a grin about it is anything to go by. And Quinton? He doesn’t have one ounce of guilt in his body.

“I’m invested, okay! Sue me for taking matters into my own hands.”

Oakley’s shoulders start shaking in laughter before he manages to collect himself. “Babe, I love you. But you’re the worst gossip I’ve ever met.”

“It’s not my fault that all your friends are the ones with the juicy tea these days. It’s the only place Hayes is lacking as a best friend.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Oak warns pointedly.

My lips twitch as I watch their dynamic unfold before my eyes—the two of them oblivious to my presence on the other end of the phone.

It’s like they’re in their own little world that I get to peek into from the outside, even for a brief moment.

It does something strange to my heart, creating this longing ache that I haven’t felt before.

These two went from rivals—straight-up enemies—to the most disgustingly in love couple I’ve ever seen. And I know it’s really soon to have these thoughts, but…part of me thinks this could be what’s in store for me and Madden.

God, I feel insane even thinking that.

“Okay, well, now I feel like I need to be caught up,” Oakley chides, despite his insinuation that his boyfriend is the biggest gossip .

I give him a quick rundown of what Quinton and I’ve discussed so far, then I find myself recounting everything that’s taken place between Madden and me since I called them last: the deep talks, game night with his friends, planning to see Vaughn’s show, and my feelings about exploring all facets of my sexuality.

I edit the events as minimally as possible, only leaving out the most incriminating details—namely Madden’s identity—but when I accidentally slip up about the tree-sap incident, Quinton takes notice.

“Wait. Why wasn’t he just coming through the front door?”

I pause, trying to work through any kind of logical answer, but it’s not fast enough.

“God no, Theo!” Quinton slams his hand down on the counter animatedly. “We don’t do situationships, and we definitely don’t do secret flings!”

“Hilarious, coming from you,” I point out, arching a brow. “Need I remind you that I was there the night your little secret fling got out?”

“Yeah, so take it from us. Learn from our mistakes,” Oakley says insistently, very quickly backing Quinton up.

“Neither of us are saying you have to come out tomorrow; that should happen on your own terms. But you need to be aware, if you’re sneaking around…

there’s a chance it’ll happen anyway, and in a moment completely out of your control. ”

Quinton nods in agreement, and I realize the night in question—all of us catching him in Oakley’s room—is exactly what he experienced firsthand.

And damn, if I don’t hate how much of a point they’re making.

My eyes sink closed while a disgruntled sigh leaves me, and I toss my hand out in front of me, utterly helpless.

“Well, it’s not like I can just drop the bi-bomb on them and start parading my stepbrother around the house after we just screwed eight ways to Sunday,” I retort in frustration. “The entire house would think I lost my damn mind. ”

I realize my mistake as soon as I look back at the screen, finding both of them gaping at me like I’d just been speaking in tongues.

“I’m so fucking sorry. You just said stepbrother,” Quinton nearly screeches.

Shit.

Oakley blinks a few times before his brows draw together, and he cocks his head. “Wait, doesn’t he play for Blackmore?”

Double shit.

My tongue rolls against the inside of my cheek before I answer both of their questions with a single nod.

There’s a moment of silence while the two of them digest this new information I’ve let slip, and I brace myself for this to go sideways.

Because, while the rivalry isn’t as prevalent between any of the other sports programs at Leighton, it’s still there; ingrained in all of us to despise the Falcons on principle.

Oakley leans back and sighs before looking over at his boyfriend. “Yeah, you’re right. My friends have way better tea.”

Every fiber of my being relaxes, the panic subsiding to barely more than a tingling worry in the back of my mind.

A saccharine smile paints Quinton’s face at Oakley’s admission, only for it to sober when he murmurs, “So the issue here definitely isn’t that you’re not ready to come out, then.”

Truthfully, it’s not even on my radar anymore. If it were anyone besides Madden, I have no doubt I would’ve at least told Holden, Phoenix, and Cam by now.

But it is Madden. My rival, my stepbrother. The one person I shouldn’t fucking be with.

There are so many layers to this, and I can’t seem to find a clear path through them.

Blowing out a breath, I mutter, “Even if I was out to the entire human population, we’d still be in this exact same position.”

“Damn,” Quinton whispers and shakes his head. “Talk about a rock and a hard place.”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “But it doesn’t stop me from wanting him the way I do. I’m just terrified of what will happen if anyone finds out—especially the team.”

“We know all about that, don’t we?” Quinton muses, looking over at his boyfriend.

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 and their whole 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 a sympathetic 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.”