Page 61 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

Theo

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you’d just come stay at my place.”

I glance over at Madden, who is watching me like a hawk as I use the railing to navigate up the front porch steps of the townhouse.

Concern knits his brows, and from the way his fists are clenched around my crutches, it’s taking all his willpower to not help me.

He manages, though, and for that I’m grateful.

He’s barely left my side in the week since the accident, even though he was released from the hospital the following day. And while I love having him around, it’d be preferable if it wasn’t because of the guilt still consuming him for being the one behind the wheel when it happened.

Once I’m up the stairs, I hold out my hands to take my crutches back.

“All good. See? ”

“Until you have to go up another flight of stairs inside, ” he reminds me.

He does give back my crutches, though, and keeps a hand extended after in a silent offer for me to hand over the duffle bag slung across my body, but I don’t take it.

There’s a flash of heat in his eyes at my defiance, and he shakes his head.

“You’re gonna be the death of me. You know that?”

I smirk. “Gotta keep you on your toes somehow.”

“I’m a little more concerned about you staying on your feet,” he shoots back, but I give him a knowing look.

“Your concerns should be on making sure you’re not late for practice.”

“I’ll be fine,” he murmurs while opening the front door. “I’ve got at least an hour to kill. Plenty of time for me to get you settled in your room.”

I have to bite my tongue, not looking to argue with him about it, even when I know I’m right.

After all, it’s his first practice back, having just been cleared by his doctors while waiting for me to be discharged earlier this afternoon.

Which is great news, and I’m genuinely glad for him to get back on the field.

It’s where he belongs, and I’d hate to see him lose out on the rest of the season—and the possibility of being drafted—because of the accident.

But I know he feels guilty that I won’t be on the field too, despite me reminding him over and over again this past week that I don’t have a future in baseball the way he does.

We both enter the house, albeit rather slowly thanks to me still getting the hang of these crutches, and Madden lets the door fall closed behind us. I hobble my way to the living room, only making it to the couch by the time Madden is already at the stairs.

He looks back at me with a pleading look.

“Baby, can I just carry you up? Or at least take—”

He’s interrupted by the basement door swinging open, Phoenix coming into view from behind it.

His gaze lifts, spotting the two of us, and he pauses at the top of the stairs.

From the way his attention darts between Madden and me, brows hiked up toward his hairline, he wasn’t expecting to see us.

Scratch that. I texted the house chat that I’d be coming home this afternoon, and he reacted to it.

It’s Madden he wasn’t expecting to see.

He clears his throat and grips the strap of his backpack before stepping into the room fully. To my surprise, he doesn’t say anything or linger, just makes a bee-line to the kitchen and starts rifling through the fridge.

Madden is clearly tense from the way he quickly crosses back over to me and wraps his fingers around the duffle strap resting on my shoulder.

“Will you please let me help you?”

“Looks to me like you’ve already done plenty of that,” Phoenix calls from where he’s grabbing Gatorades from the fridge and tossing them in his backpack. “If you were so worried about winning City Rivals, maybe you should’ve worked harder in practice.”

So much for not saying anything.

A quick glance up reveals the corded tendons in Madden’s neck pulled taut, and I shoot a glare over at my roommate.

“Can we not make him feel any worse than he already does, please?” I hiss, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “Madden did nothing wrong.”

If Phoenix wants to be pissed at someone, it should be me.

Phoenix’s gaze shifts from me to Madden and back again. “Yeah. That’s my bad.”

He goes back to his task, ignoring the daggers I shoot at him, before I look back up at Madden.

“I’m sorry. ”

A sad smile kicks up one corner of his mouth, and he shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m gonna let you two talk, okay?”

I shake my head and grab his arm. “You don’t have to go.”

“I’ll just wait on the porch.” He offers me another small smile before lifting my hand off him. “Text me when you’re ready for me to help you to your room.”

A somber feeling fills my stomach as I watch him go, tracking him until the door closes behind him. Once he’s gone, I glance back to Phoenix, who is still busying himself in the kitchen.

I trudge in his direction as best I can on the crutches with my duffle still slung over my shoulder, but when it comes to getting one of the island stools pulled out, it’s easier said than done.

The crutches get in the way of the stool’s legs, and every movement has my duffle shifting and knocking into things.

I can feel Phoenix watching me struggle for a few seconds before he lets out a sharp sigh and walks over.

“Let me help you before you hurt yourself some more.”

His fingers wrap around my duffle strap, silently taking it and dropping it to the stool beside me before he pulls out mine with ease. I slide onto it, and he grabs my crutches, leaning them against the end of the island within my reach before returning to the other side of the counter.

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever fucking met sometimes,” he mutters, pinning me with a look that’s equally concerned and frustrated. The same one he aimed at me whenever he’d sit wordlessly in my hospital room over the past week.

The first few days at the hospital post-crash were a blur, being so hopped up on pain meds, but I do remember all of my roommates were there—even Logan, though I didn’t see him at the time.

I also remember that they witnessed Madden and me in my bed, a sight likely causing them to draw their own conclusions in the moment.

But Holden, Cam, and Phoenix came back to see me in the later days despite what they may have thought.

And we didn’t talk about Madden, even though he was in the chair beside me every time they arrived to visit.

He’d step out into the hall whenever they came, but the unspoken questions lingered like an elephant in the room the entire time.

Still, they didn’t press it. And, God, I could tell Phoenix wanted to most of all.

Which is why I’m not surprised he finally cracks now that the two of us are alone.

“You could’ve told me the truth, you know,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “That day, when Hayes said he was here. You didn’t have to lie.”

I let out a long, helpless sigh and shake my head. “What was I supposed to do? Say I realized I’m bisexual and I’ve been secretly fucking my stepbrother right under all of your noses ? I mean, how would you have reacted to that?”

“Probably a lot better than I did when I found out you landed yourself in the hospital after a car wreck,” he points out.

Though the accident was in no part my fault—or Madden’s for that matter—I still wince at his statement. Because I can’t imagine what it was like for them, my parents, Madden’s mom.

“I’m sorry, Phoe,” I utter, the words cracking as they leave my lips.

It’s a loaded apology, covering everything that transpired over the last few months. The lies, the sneaking around. The way they found out the truth.

I feel shitty as hell about all of it.

“God, I can’t even be mad at you because I’ve literally been in your shoes.” His lips pull back into some contorted version of a smile, and he shakes his head. “You were there last year, you saw it all unfold with Holden and Kase. It was fucked-up and messy as shit, but—”

“But Holden’s not a Falcon,” I cut in. “You weren’t going to have the entire team looking at you like you’re a goddamn traitor for being with him.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but to his credit, he only nods and whispers, “Okay, yeah. You have a point.”

“And even if everyone could look past it, which I doubted was possible to begin with, I didn’t want it to be about the Penny Play.”

His brows draw together as his lips form a frown. “What?”

My fingers trace over the cool, smooth countertop while I try to find the best way to explain all my thoughts—every messy, convoluted piece of them.

“I know it was just a stupid joke when you and Wyatt suggested I try sleeping with Madden to get intel. And I love this school and the rivalry as much as the rest of the guys, you know that. But I was worried about being put in a position where I’d have to choose between Madden and you guys.”

“Because you’d choose him.”

It comes out as a statement, not a question. Because he knows the answer. It’s the same one he’d give if it were Holden.

I nod, my gaze meeting his. “Every single time. No hesitation.”

There’s a brief flicker of understanding in his expression before he leans his forearms on the island across from me.

“So it’s not just sex, then.”

“It never was.” Releasing a sigh, I shake my head. “I love him. More than…fucking anything.”

He grins slowly. “You can’t control who you fall in love with.”

Yeah, he really would understand that better than anyone. And like me, he fought it at every turn, only to fall anyway.

“Shit,” he mutters with a laugh. “I should probably apologize to him for that comment during the game, then, huh?”

Considering it could’ve very well ruined everything…

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it if you did.”

A little disgruntled noise slips out of him as he shoots me one of those you’re killing me looks, but he eventually rolls his eyes and concedes.

“Fine, fine. I’ll do it for you.” He taps his hand on the counter a couple times, eyes taking on a mischievous gleam when he says, “But in return, I wanna know how you were getting him in the house.”