A light marine layer clung to the shoreline Sunday morning. I hoped the sun would burn through within the hour, though the gray skies fit my mood better. I tugged the brim of my baseball cap as I sipped my coffee and scanned the outdoor seating area. Weekends were always busy at Savvy Bean. It was a hipster coffee bar with a cool vibe that appealed to students, artists, and young professionals.

My gaze traveled from a pink-haired girl I recognized from school to a well-dressed gay couple at a neighboring table. I noted their fingers entwining over their coffee cups and the way their knees touched under the table. They looked in sync and in love. The instant pang of longing surprised me. I didn’t understand it. Long Beach had a strong LGBTQ presence; I saw same-sex couples every freaking day and never thought twice about it. Until now.

Now…everything felt different. Or maybe I was just hungover and operating in a vodka-infused fog that conjured rainbows everywhere I went. After last night, anything was possible.

I glanced up when Chelsea set her cup down and flopped into the chair across from me. “You don’t look so good.”

She lowered her giant round sunglasses and glared at me. “Don’t mess with me, Vaughn. I should still be in bed. I’m only here because you begged me to meet you.”

“I didn’t beg you,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Chelsea pushed her glasses into place and sat back. “No, but you said it was important. What is it?”

I stared at her chipped red nail polish and the jumble of silver and gold bands on her fingers. No one did boho chic quite like Chels. She had a talent for making thrift store finds look like haute couture. Today’s floral print ensemble was a perfect example. On anyone else, it would have looked like a tablecloth doing double duty as a sundress. The Fedora and big-ass sunglasses completed the picture. Her olive skin might have been a shade paler than normal, but she rocked a hangover in style.

Way better than I did. I didn’t dare check my reflection. I felt like shit. There was no need for visual confirmation. I’d lain awake most of the night, analyzing what had gone down in my bathroom with Gabe. One second I was wracked with fear and regret and the next, I had my hand on my cock as I mentally replayed what had to be the sexiest hump session I’d ever experienced. I hoped some semblance of normalcy would return in the morning. The guilt and regret would probably be there, but it would be nice to feel like myself again. Preferably the version of me that didn’t make passes at a hot guy.

But the memory wouldn’t fade. I hadn’t wantonly rubbed against any ol’ guy in the heat of the moment last night. No. That was Gabe Chadwick’s cock. Gabe. My archnemesis and new teammate. The enormity of the mess I’d made hit me like a proverbial ton of bricks this morning. I’d opened my eyes, darted out of bed, and promptly vomited. Then I’d brushed my teeth ten times and texted Chelsea.

I sipped my coffee and thought about how to word my confession. I wasn’t sure how much I should say, but I couldn’t do this on my own and I couldn’t tell Evan. He was a great guy and I trusted him with my life, but he wouldn’t understand. Chelsea had a ton of gay friends. Like Mitch. Of course, I was nothing like him but—

“Derek.” Chelsea waved her bejeweled hand in front of my face and snapped her fingers.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s up.”

“Well, I’m…” I bit the inside of my cheek, then leaned forward with a serious expression. “Something weird happened last night.”

“You mean Rory and Jenna? OMG. I know. They were a disaster!”

“Huh?”

“Complete train wreck,” she huffed. “They had sex in the bathroom and then again in my roommate’s bed. Loudly.”

“Oh, yeah. I think I heard them.”

“Well, after their epic sex fest, they got into a huge fight. I can’t believe Evan didn’t tell you about it. He helped Amanda and Mitch get them separate rides home.”

“Oh. I didn’t see Evan after I got home last night. I passed out pretty fast,” I lied.

Chelsea lifted her brows. “Really? You look like you got less sleep than me. I got four hours. You?”

“Same.”

“Hmph. Well, a lot of weird things happened last night.” She held up her hand and counted down the weirdness manually. “Rory and Jenna, Greg Michaels puking in my neighbor’s bushes, Amanda flirting with your new teammate and then making moves on Evan.”

“She did? Why? He wouldn’t go out with her. Ever,” I said emphatically. “Amanda doesn’t even like Evan. Why would she—”

“To make you jealous. Why else? She wants you to see what you gave up.”

“That’s crazy.”

“But true. So tell me why you dragged my ass out of bed before noon on a Sunday,” Chelsea said, tapping her nails on the table.

I swallowed hard and leaned forward. It took me another few seconds to find my voice and when I did, it was weak at best. “I got kinda drunk last night and did something and…”

Damn. I couldn’t say it out loud. I buried my head in my hands and stared at the scratch marks on the table and willed myself to pull it together.

Chelsea set her hand on my bicep. “Der, you’re a good guy. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. I’d offer to guess but my brain isn’t functioning yet and—”

“I kissed Gabe,” I blurted.

She stilled her hand and then pulled away. I immediately decided that was all I could share. I wasn’t ready for anything else. Those three words took everything out of me. I looked up, hoping like hell I hadn’t made a mistake trusting her with this.

Chelsea seemed like the perfect confidante. She’d become one of my best friends in college over the past four years. She was open-minded, smart, adventurous, and her interest in sports gave her an appreciation for my world, even though she’d never played water polo. And she was completely uninhibited when it came to sexuality. A few months ago, she told me a raunchy story involving sex with two girls from her Women’s Studies class. Until then, I’d had zero clue she swung both ways.

Then again, I had no idea I did either. Okay, not true. I’d known I was attracted to men too. I’d just hoped it would go away.

“Gabe,” she repeated incredulously, pulling her sunglasses off. “You kissed Gabe?”

“Yeah. I did,” I admitted, braving a glance at her.

Chelsea’s eyes widened as one corner of her mouth curled in a smile that quickly took over her whole face. She held her hand up for a high five and chortled merrily when I ripped off my glasses and glared.

“Why are you leaving me hanging?”

“Because this isn’t funny. I did something I can’t undo, and I have to see him at fucking practice tomorrow!” I hissed.

“All right, all right. Give me the whole scoop. I’m suddenly very happy I picked up your text message at the ass crack of dawn.”

“It was nine a.m.,” I corrected before launching into a brief synopsis of the scene in my bathroom a mere twelve hours ago. I only shared the kiss. The rest was mine. I couldn’t talk about what I hadn’t fully processed. I traced the rim of my to-go cup as I wrapped up my story with a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through tomorrow.”

“You’re going to be fine. I admit, I’m…shocked. But I think it’s totally cool,” she gushed.

“How is it cool? Do you realize how awkward I’ve made my entire last season of water polo? I had to get this off my chest before I suffocated. I don’t know what it means or if it means anything at all or—”

“Pull yourself together, Der. It just means you kissed a guy.”

“Yeah, but am I gay or bi, or was I curious in the heat of a drunken moment? It might take some getting used to, and maybe I’d be fine with any scenario…but why Gabe?”

“Why not Gabe? He’s dreamy,” she sighed in a swoony tone before continuing. “Don’t ask yourself what silly label you need now. The better question is…did you like it?”

I hesitated for a beat, then picked up my coffee and set it down again. “Yeah, I did. And he did too.”

“How do you know?”

“He kissed me back.”

“Did he kiss you like he meant it and enjoyed it?”

“Definitely. I just wish I knew what came next,” I sighed.

“Der, look at me.” Chelsea waited for me to comply, reaching for my hand and lacing our fingers together. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Stop freaking out. Talk to him after practice to clear the air, but quit torturing yourself. You’re both adults. Do the right thing. Get the conversation over with and see where it leaves you. You might just get a boyfriend out of all this.”

“Ha. That’s really funny,” I snapped sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’s not the end of the world. It might even be a beginning and—oh, my God! Amanda is gonna go bonkers,” she snickered, adjusting the brim of her hat.

“Geez. Don’t say a word. This doesn’t go beyond this table, Chels,” I said in a serious tone.

She made a “zipped” motion across her lips, then smiled. “You can trust me.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Are you going to say anything to Evan?”

“No way.”

Chelsea shot a puzzled look at me. “Why not? He’s totally chill and he’s your best friend. You can trust him. And I’m always here if you need me. In the meantime, talk to Gabe. You’ll figure out the rest from there.”

“You’re right,” I agreed before taking a healthy swig of coffee.

“Of course I am.” She pursed her lips in a mischievous lopsided grin. “By the way, you guys would make a really hot couple. I’d love to be a fly on that wall.”

I snorted in amusement and leaned over to pull her Fedora over eyes. Chelsea batted me away, then yanked my cap off my head as payback. I shoved my hat back on and was about to switch topics when a sudden sense of urgency came over me.

“I probably shouldn’t wait.” I furrowed my brow and pulled out my phone. “You know everyone, Chels. Do you have his number?”

“As a matter of fact, I scored his digits when I invited him. Lucky you.” She typed a message into her cell and then winked. “Go on, Der. You got this.”

The sun finally broke through the clouds as I made my way home along the boardwalk. I stepped aside to avoid a gaggle of bike riders and glanced at my cell again. Nothing. I’d texted Gabe at the coffee shop and foolishly expected him to be on my wavelength and agree we should get any awkwardness out of the way before tomorrow. I’d labored over the simple message as though it was the opening line in an important Comp Lit essay.

Hi Gabe. This is Derek. Call me.

I reread the message five times, then pressed Send and pushed my cell into my pocket so I wouldn’t stare at the screen. An hour later, nothing. So I sent another one.

We have to talk. It’s important.

Still nothing.

Okay, so he probably wasn’t waiting for a message from me. First of all, he didn’t know I had his number and secondly, he might actually have a fucking life. He could be in the pool or out with friends. He might even be asleep. I leaned on the railing separating the boardwalk from the sand and the Pacific Ocean and stared at his contact info, willing myself not to do anything stupid. And then of course, I did it anyway.

I pushed Call and lifted my cell to my ear. I fixated on the horizon as though I was seasick as well as hungover. Too much caffeine and too little sleep were a bad combo for my delicate stomach. The added drama didn’t help.

“Hello?”

My heart slammed against my rib cage. Oh boy. Now what? I licked my lips and gulped.

“Oh hey. Um, it’s me…Derek. I…can you talk?”

Silence.

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Uh, well…I’ve been thinking about last night. I didn’t want to wait to—”

“What about last night?”

That stopped me.

“About what happened.” I paused for a moment, then added in a deliberate tone, “In my bathroom.”

“Nothing happened.”

“But—”

“We’re cool, Derek. There’s nothing to talk about. See you at practice. Later.”

Click.

He hung up on me.

Okay. Well, maybe that was a good thing. Right? He didn’t want to discuss it. Move on. Let it go. Not a big deal…so don’t turn it into one.

I slipped my cell back into my pocket and stared out to sea. I did my best to calm my erratic heartbeat and relax and be grateful Gabe was willing to erase my faux pas and start over with a clean slate in the morning. This was what I wanted too. It was a good thing.

So why did I feel like he’d just kicked me in the nuts?

My acting skills sucked, and Evan knew me far too well. I figured it wouldn’t take long before he noticed I was out of sorts. Thankfully, he was preoccupied with the drama I’d missed after I’d left Chelsea’s last night. Particularly the part involving my ex. I laughed it off, but he was disturbed by Amanda’s sudden interest in him.

“I didn’t touch her, but I couldn’t escape her easily either. She was glued to me, and the weird thing was that it was for your benefit, Der. She wanted everyone there to report back to you. Watch out for that one. She’s got revenge on her mind. Or reconciliation,” he’d added with a shrug.

“Somehow I doubt it. I don’t know what her deal was, but she was all over Gabe Chadwick earlier too.”

There. I did it. I said his name and it didn’t sound weird or laced with longing. Or did it? I cast a sideways glance at Evan just as he twisted to face me from his perch on the sofa with a look I couldn’t quite read.

“I noticed. You won’t believe this. She said she was testing a rumor.”

“What kind of rumor?” I asked, suddenly aware of my heart thundering in my chest.

“She said she heard Gabe’s gay.”

My mouth suddenly felt like the Sahara. I licked my parched lips but kept my eyes locked on the preseason football game on the flat-screen until I found my voice again. “Where’d she hear that?”

“I didn’t ask. Who cares if he is? To be honest, I think she said it so that I wouldn’t think it was weird that she was flirting with two guys who happen to have you in common. Teammate, roommate…see what I’m saying? She’s after you, man. Whoa! Did you see that play?”

I held up my hand for a high five, grateful for the diversion. I didn’t want to think about Amanda. She was old news, and I had a hard time believing she’d bother going out of her way to make me jealous. Then again, why would she make out with Gabe and then tell Evan that she’d heard he was gay? I didn’t get it.

The whole thing confused the fuck out of me. I spent all Sunday afternoon and evening sifting through my abbreviated conversation with Gabe, analyzing and overthinking his tone while doing my best to forget how fucking good it felt to kiss him. And the memory of that whispered touch of his finger on my crack and his rigid cock pressed against mine was enough to make me dizzy with desire.

I had bigger things to worry about than Amanda.

I’d kissed a boy and I’d liked it. And now, I was obsessed.

Monday was gonna suck. I was sure of it. Avoidance only worked in certain situations. I’d have to brush off my seventh-grade theater chops and act like Joe fucking Cool. Or at least like it was totally normal for a team captain to drunkenly make out with a new teammate and star player.

My low expectations proved to be a blessing. Sort of. Coach introduced Gabe to the team Monday morning, then gave us a set of drills and told us to get to work. End of discussion. Gabe nodded a brief greeting when I said hello but otherwise, he ignored me. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. He bumped my arm in the locker room after practice and gave me an awkward, hooded look before pretending to search for something in his workout bag.

“Hey. Are you okay? You were pretty drunk the other night.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” My bored tone in no way matched my erratic heartbeat.

“So we’re cool?” he asked, fixating on my mouth with an intensity that brought Saturday night back to mind in full color. His passionate kiss, roving hands, and his thick cock riding mine through two layers of precum-soaked cotton.

I licked my lips and looked away. “Of course,” I grunted.

Gabe didn’t move for a long moment. I wished I was brave enough to meet his gaze again, but I couldn’t do it. Not now. I stared at his hands and swallowed hard when a strong wave of déjà vu immediately reminded me of how fucking amazing it felt when he squeezed my ass and grinded his shaft against mine. My instant blush probably gave me away, but thankfully he didn’t comment on my splotchy skin. He nodded and then hiked his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the locker room. I breathed a sigh of relief and told myself to snap out of it, erase the memory, and restart.

But I couldn’t let it go.

I thought about him nonstop. And when I wasn’t daydreaming about Gabe, I researched. I read every article I could find regarding bisexuality. The definition simply stated a bisexual person was attracted to both sexes. However, further research indicated that romantic attraction and sexual attraction varied. I might not be attracted to a man and a woman in the same way, at the same time, or to the same degree. For a guy who thrived on order and routine, the concept of sexual fluidity confused the hell out of me. Was this my new identity? I’d always been into women. Sure, I’d thought some men were hot too, but I hadn’t wanted to fuck them. Or maybe I had, but fear kept me from considering it a possibility. Until Gabe.

In the midst of grappling with the “new” me, I decided to test my physical attraction to men and Google some gay porn. My finger hovered over the return key for a good few minutes. My palms were slick, my forehead glistened with sweat, and my heart thumped like crazy. I wrote a disclaimer in my head in the unlikely event I had to explain the man-on-man action in my browser history. Of course, I planned to delete it but with my luck, my computer would freeze and the technician assigned to fix it would be the brother of one of my teammates. See? The anxiety was real. But I finally manned up and pushed Enter.

And holy fuck! I felt like Alice slipping into a wonderland. The vast array of options and subcategories was overwhelming. Sure, some of it was unappealing, but I felt that way about hetero porn too. After thirty minutes of mindless scrolling with my cock getting harder by the second, I gave in to temptation. I locked my door, pushed my workout shorts and boxer briefs down, and jacked off to two muscular hunks fucking on the floor in a warehouse. Suffice it to say, I didn’t last long. I shivered uncontrollably when my orgasm hit just as the guy on the bottom gripped his lover’s ass and begged him to come inside him. Bam! He might as well have been talking to me. Cum hit my chin and the keys on my laptop. I panted, then slumped in my desk chair while imaginary stars and birds circled my head. I’d clearly been missing some of the best orgasms of my life.

That meant I had to be bi. Okay, fine. I knew I was bi. I just didn’t want to be. Wanting to be with a guy wasn’t something I could easily explain. My parents wouldn’t understand. Mom especially. I remembered the way she looked at me when she caught me staring at my cousin’s boyfriend at a wedding reception when I was sixteen. Suspicious and maybe a little worried too. I’d felt the same way, and it scared the hell out of me, so I focused on my sport and only dated women. No doubt it was why I’d stayed with Amanda for so long. She was safe. And everything about being attracted to men was dangerous and messy. I didn’t do well with messes. Obviously.

Admitting who I was to myself was a good first step, but I couldn’t act on it. Not now, anyway. It was more important to find a way to coexist with Gabe. And ideally, not get hard every time he looked at me. That was easy enough since we did what any two guys in our situation would do; we ignored each other.

At first I was relieved. But after a couple of weeks, relief turned to annoyance. While Gabe made new friends and alliances with my guys, I silently stewed…torn between admiring his resolve and hot body and being irritated that I was the only one affected by that night.

Then one Friday morning, it all came to a head.

Practice began the way it did every day. We might do ten new drills, scrimmage with local teams, spice up our routine with a run on the beach, or spend extra time in the weight room, but we always began with laps. A lot of laps. I didn’t mind. There was nothing quite like cutting through the pool at a fast clip before sunrise. The cool water felt invigorating and in a weird way, life affirming. Like being the first to step in newly fallen snow. Five laps in, my head cleared and my thoughts evened out. I felt stronger with each turn and more focused than I’d been in weeks.

The return to calm was nice while it lasted. But the second Coach blew his whistle, signaling the beginning of our first round of drills, my pulse jumped into overdrive. I hadn’t seen Gabe yet that morning, but I knew he was a swim lane or two away. I spotted him near the net, tossing the ball with Troy. He was wearing a blue cap, number five. I dove sideways to catch an errant pass and did a double take. Wait a second…that’s my number.

I motioned for my passing partner to hold the ball, then swam toward Gabe.

“Hey. How’s it going?” I asked in a friendly tone.

“Good,” he replied, keeping his gaze straight ahead. When I didn’t speak or move on, he shot a sideways glance at me. “Did you need something?”

“Um. Actually, yeah…I need my cap.” I gestured toward his head. Then I swam in front of him, intercepted the ball, and threw it to Troy before turning to Gabe with my hand outstretched.

He flashed a lopsided smile and shook his head. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Vaughn. Looks like it’s mine now.”

In a perfect world, I would have laughed off his insolence and pretended to understand his warped sense of humor. I might have even made the effort to find him a different cap and then brought our teammates into the discussion, publicly anointing Gabe’s new number. I could have made it funny and best of all, the “welcoming” duties I’d avoided for three weeks as captain would have been complete. There were so many ways to maturely turn this to my advantage and shine as a leader.

Unfortunately, I saw red.

The haze of anger was so strong, it was impossible to think or see straight. I didn’t give a fuck about the cap. I just wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. So I did what any rational person would do when he’s been pushed a smidge too far. I jumped on top of Gabe and wrestled the damn cap off his head. And because he was a complete asshole, he fought back. He pulled me under and grabbed the cap from my hand, then shoved me hard. I caught his foot and yanked him with me before swimming to the surface for a gulp of fresh air. The water churned around us angrily. We probably looked like a couple of sharks battling over dinner. The crazed, frustrated energy in no way fit the crime. This was personal.

Maybe he wanted to send a message or reestablish boundaries, so I wouldn’t get any ideas that he was interested in me in any capacity outside of the pool. And maybe I was pissed that he’d unearthed a side of me I wasn’t equipped to deal with.

Round and round, we went in a furious circle until a loud whistle broke through the frenzy. Someone pulled us apart and dragged me to the side. I flung my arm to free myself, then sucked in a deep breath and glanced up at our irate coach standing over us with his arms crossed and a pissed-off expression on his mug.

“My office now. Both of you.”

Fuck.

Five minutes later I sat, with a towel wrapped around my waist, next to Gabe while Coach Burton screamed bloody murder at me for my outrageously immature behavior. Spit flew from his mouth as he paced the length of his desk and back again like a fire and brimstone preacher at a Sunday service. And yes, his vitriol was directed primarily at me. Team captains didn’t attack new members. Period. I owed Gabe and my entire squad an apology, and I owed my coach an explanation.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Coach asked, throwing his arms in the air and glowering at me.

I bit the inside of my cheek and swallowed my pride. “I wasn’t thinking. I apologize, sir.”

“Apologize to Chadwick now and at your next opportunity, apologize to the team.”

I bit into my cheek until I tasted blood before turning to Gabe. “I apologize.”

Gabe didn’t bother looking at me, which of course pissed me off even more. But I held my tongue as Coach continued.

“You can finish off practice with laps. I’m benching you for the game tomorrow too, Vaughn.”

“What?” I jumped from my chair and gaped at him like a fish out of water. “You need me.”

“I do, but I also need you to act like a leader. Don’t argue. You’ll be back on rotation next week…if you can control your temper. Oh, and one more thing. You two are about to become best friends. Starting tomorrow, you’re partners in every fucking drill in that damn pool and roomies for every away tournament on the roster.” Coach pointed meaningfully at the door. “Out.”

My stomach turned so fast I was afraid I might vomit. I knew if I opened my mouth, there was a good chance I’d say something I’d regret. So I secured my towel around my waist as I stood and gave Coach a curt nod of acknowledgment before heading to the locker room.

My hands trembled as I fumbled with the combination on my lock. I was pretty sure I’d never been this angry in my life. The worst part was knowing I only had myself to blame. Gabe made me crazy. But I’d behaved like an ass and once again, I’d given him the upper hand. Fuck, I was an idiot. I flung open the metal locker door and shoved my towel inside. I couldn’t deal with this shit now. A hundred or more laps might help. I reached for my goggles and was about to turn around when I sensed someone behind me.

“I’m sorry, Der.”

I slammed the locker door, bolted the lock, and glared at Gabe. “Fuck you. You got what you wanted, you fucking coward. You want to pretend nothing happened? Fine, nothing happened. Thank you for reminding me that I hate your fucking guts.”

“You don’t hate me,” Gabe said softly. “Look, I was just following your lead. I thought you wanted to forget about—”

“Oh, trust me, I do. Stay the hell away from me.”

He moved in front of me and blocked my exit. “Hey, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Which part? The kiss, humping in my bathroom, or pissing me off to make sure I’d get cut from another game?”

“All of it. Especially the kiss.”

I furrowed my brow. “Especially? It’s been a couple of weeks, but don’t lie to me. I know you liked it as much as I did, and you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Of course I did.” Gabe moved into my space, then cocked his head and squinted. “So you liked it.”

We stood inches apart, wearing matching black Speedos and nothing else, engaged in a weird standoff I didn’t quite understand. Tension rolled between us in a fierce wave that made it difficult to breathe.

“Yes. I liked it,” I huffed in exasperation. “But it just occurred to me that you kissed me and my ex that night. Did you do that on purpose? Is this some fucked up game where you—”

Gabe pounced so fast, my head almost hit the wall. He pulled me against him before my shoulder hit my locker and then crashed his mouth over mine.

This wasn’t a kiss. It was an angry fusion meant to establish dominance and control. And yeah, to shut me up. I didn’t push him away. But I didn’t back down either. I grabbed his face, tilted my chin, and thrust my tongue into his mouth. We groaned in unison as our chests collided. His skin was cool to the touch. I wouldn’t have thought I’d want to be any closer, but the second Gabe moved his hand to my ass and molded himself against me, I changed my mind. And when he softened the pressure on my lips and glided his tongue alongside mine, the manic power play became a passionate kiss.

We made out, lost in a sensual tangle of roving hands and hungry kisses, completely oblivious to our surroundings. And that alone was madness. We were in a fucking locker room. If anyone walked in on us, we’d have a hard time explaining ourselves.

Gabe set his hand on the locker behind me and broke for air. He bit his lower lip, casting his gaze from my mouth to my eyes before taking a cursory glance toward the door. The coast was clear. I huffed a half laugh when he adjusted his dick in his Speedo, then collapsed on the metal bench across from my locker. He braced his elbows on his knees and gestured at my crotch.

The skimpy fabric left nothing to the imagination. It hugged my shaft lovingly and forced the tip of my cock to the edge of the elastic. I reopened my locker and pulled out my towel again before turning back to him with an expectant look.

“We have to talk,” I said in a small voice, wrapping my towel around my waist.

He nodded. “Yeah, but not here.”

“I know.”

Gabe raked his fingers through his wet hair, then flashed an amused grin at me. “That was stupid. But…it was hot.”

“Would you classify that as a kiss, or is there another word for it?”

“It was a kiss, smartass,” he huffed.

“Hmm. And is that like a rage thing for you?”

“What’s a ‘rage thing’?”

“Something you do when you get mad to blow off steam. You know, like go for a run, lift weights, kiss people…”

Gabe snorted as he stood. “I’ve never done that before in my life.”

“You’ve never kissed a guy?”

“No, I’ve—I’ve done that, but…let’s talk later. I don’t want to do this here. I have another practice with the national team this afternoon. I can meet you after for dinner or something if you’re free,” he suggested.

“Like a date?” I asked sarcastically.

Gabe raised one brow. “If that’s what you want.”

I sensed a challenge there and I wanted to meet him toe-to-toe, but I was confused as hell. I had no idea what I’d walked into. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. Fuck, I’m not even sure I like you and—”

“You like me.” He gave me a lopsided smile that did funny things to my pulse, then added, “I like you too, Der. I’ll text you later.”

I watched Gabe walk away, in a daze. In less than a month, he’d turned my life inside out and upside down. He’d invaded my personal space in every possible way and left me feeling unsettled, unsure, and afraid. I had no idea what I’d do if the pieces of myself I’d hidden so well came tumbling out of the closet. I might lose everything. But the momentum had already shifted. There was no going back.