“So why separate houses? We could just live together. Saves money.”
He thinks on this a little, his mind working through the details, and I know the images running through his head look nothing like mine. He isn’t picturing one huge bed, the same set of sheets tangled around our naked bodies.
I dart my eyes away from him, knowing he’d never believe me if I blamed the warm summer wind on the erection in my shorts.
“Yeah. I think you may be right. Plus, we could have huge parties with loads of hot girls.”
I close my eyes, taking many deep breaths as that memory slaps me in the face. I don’t know what’s harder, living now with the chasm between us, or if I would’ve kept my damn mouth shut and just suffered my love for him in silence.
There’s still a real chance of Landon going pro. I’ve heard the conversations in the locker room, and everyone seems to agree.
It’s less likely people will assume that I’ll follow him around the US during his pro career, which means returning to Farmington wouldn’t turn too many heads or raise as much suspicion as not going to the same college as him.
I only have one more year of school to suffer through, still loving him from afar, all the while also hating him a little until I’m set free. The distance we’ll be able to put between us means I may finally have a chance to start genuinely getting over him.
Chapter 5
Landon
“You mentioned getting a room?”
I keep my eyes focused outside the windshield even though I can feel her eyes boring a hole into the side of my face.
She sighs when I don’t immediately respond.
“I’m no stranger to getting jerked around by you, Landon, but I usually get an orgasm or two before you go all weird on me.”
“What are we doing, Keira?” I mutter, running my hands down my face.
“Arguing apparently. If I wanted to fight before makeup sex, I would’ve stayed in California with Brendon this summer.”
“How’s he doing?”
“We’re not talking about my boyfriend.”
We never do. Guilt is swimming inside of me, but it’s not for the poor guy back in California. Maybe it makes me the biggest asshole in the world for hooking up with a girl who has been dating the same guy for the last two and a half years… nope, can’t even finish that thought. I am the biggest asshole in the world, but there’s a long list of reasons instead of just this one.
“Change of plans,” she says, leaning over the console of the SUV I borrowed from Cerberus.
I always leave my truck back in Texas when I come home because I have access to other vehicles whereas Rick only has his car.
“We get along much better when we’re naked. The backseat is fine with me. It’ll be like old times.”
Her hand skates up my thigh, only that rush of adrenaline I’m used to when getting aroused doesn’t wash over me. My dick twitches of course. I’m a guy after all, but there’s no urgency to get things moving.
“Keira,” I complain, stopping her hand from moving further up my leg. “What are we doing?”
I look over at her, hating the scowl I’ve caused to mar her pretty face.
“Do we have long-term goals? Is the plan to end up together?”
She doesn’t quite hide the cringe in response to my questions. I know she isn’t a cleat chaser, and the woman’s family has more money than they know what to do with, so she isn’t a gold digger. She’s a pretty private person. That probably has more to do with her sneaking around on her boyfriend, but it also means she doesn’t dream of a public life on the arm of a pro ball player either.
“I’m in love with Brendon.”
I don’t argue with her, don’t bring up the fact that her getting angry we aren’t getting naked is a far cry from proof of the love she claims. I’m not her therapist, and I don’t have the energy to dig deeper into her actions.
“I’m just not feeling it tonight,” I say instead.
“I have a surefire way to get you there,” she coos, her hand wiggling under mine to try to sneak further up my leg.
“Don’t,” I say, the one word coming out on a growl.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
Other than the double standard of her thinking it’s okay for a woman to use irritated coercion to get sex? If a man did it, she’d lose her fucking mind. That liberal feminist attitude of hers just wouldn’t be able to handle a man acting that way.
I don’t mention the rants I’ve seen on social media about toxic masculinity.
I don’t mention Rick or how he’s been a constant echoing thought in my head since our return to New Mexico.
I don’t mention that I wish things were like they were our freshman and sophomore years in high school when life was so fucking easy.