Iced Out (Leighton U Book 1)

The guys at home have been catching on.

Not about Quinton and I specifically, thank fucking God. It’s more like I’ve been distracted lately. If I’m even home, which doesn’t happen a whole lot lately either. And though they might not know why, apparently they’ve taken notice, the fact becoming crystal clear when I shove the front door open after the game against Wynnfield, only to be met with four sets of eyes locked on me from the sectional.

Waiting for me, like an intervention or something.

Slowly, I let my duffle slide off my good shoulder, my gaze flicking from face to face in an attempt to get a read on the situation.

“Someone die?”

“Yeah,” Holden says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the cushions.

His seriousness paired with the quiet tension in the air, hanging there like a storm cloud, causes my stomach to roll with dread. “Who?”

A long sigh comes from him before he says, “Our friendship.”

The rest of the guys chuckle as relief floods through me. My eyes narrow on my best friend, then the rest of them.

“That’s not funny in the slightest.”

“Yeah, well, neither is you being fucking MIA since classes started back up.” Concern lines his features, and he shakes his head. “Where the hell are you lately, man?”

My brows furrow, and I try to play dumb. I play dumb like my fucking life depends on it, because it very well might if these guys discover what I’ve been doing lately. Or who I’ve been doing it with.

“In class or at practice most of the time. Sometimes the gym. And when I’m not at any of those places, I’m usually at the library. You know, studying? Because we’re in college and supposed to be learning things?”

Though I do my best to keep the defensiveness out of my voice, I’m not sure I succeeded, because Holden’s eyes harden on me, and I can tell he’s well on the way to sniffing out my lies.

“Okay, then where the hell are you sleeping? Because it sure as hell isn’t here.”

What the fuck?

“I’ve been here pretty much every night this week?” I tell him, though it sounds more like a question because I’m not sure where he’s getting this idea from. The only night I wasn’t here was earlier this week, when I stayed with Quinn at his parents’ place, and that’s not something I thought anyone would notice.

“Pretty much?”

I gape at him, nearly at a loss for words. “Are you actually about to sit here and treat me like a teenager by asking me where I’ve been past my curfew?” A scoff escapes me, and I shake my head. “Did you body swap with my parents or something?”

“You wanna talk about body swapping?” he counters, brow arched. “Because getting into a fight on the ice sounds a lot like something de Haas would do, Oakley. Not you.”

“News travels fast, I see.” My focus flicks to Camden and Braxton, wondering which one of them opened their fucking mouth first about what happened tonight. “But I’m assuming you didn’t hear the part where I stopped the fight.”

“Yet the gash below your eye tells a different story.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Give it a rest, Hold,” Cam pipes in. “He’s right. He was trying to stop it when he got decked. Can’t blame him for that.”

“I’m just concerned for my best friend.” He motions to the other guys on the couch, his eyes locked on me. “We all are. I’m just the only one willing to fucking say something.”

A twinge of guilt smacks me in the chest, no matter how unwarranted it might be. And it’s at that moment, I almost tell them. Break the last and final rule Quinn and I put into place.

But I just can’t.

Even if I wanted to, even if Quinn and I agreed to cutting out this final rule altogether, I still fucking can’t. Not with the way Holden snarled his name at me moments ago. None of these guys have any love for Quinton, especially with the way we’ve acted toward each other the past few years. They’ve all been around to see it.

There’s no way they’d ever understand this thing happening between the two of us.

“Earth to Oakley?” Holden’s voice cuts into my thoughts.

I realize he must’ve said something I missed while I got lost in my thoughts, and I shake free from the fog. “Sorry, what?”

There’s venom laced in his laugh. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Even when you’re here, you’re not here. So where the fuck are you, man?”

His tone sets me more on edge than finding the four of them sitting here waiting for me like some goddamn intervention.

I drop my bag to the floor and toss my arms out to the side, doing my best to ignore the pain lancing through the shoulder I really need to get some ice on. But if Holden wants to start shit instead, fine.

Like he was quick to point out, this isn’t the first fight I’ve been in tonight.

“I’m busy, Hold. I have a life outside of this house. One involving school and practice and studying and friends other than you.”

Braxton lets out a low whistle. “Mom and Dad are fighting.”

“Oh, fuck off, Braxton,” Holden snaps. But when his eyes shift to me, I see the hurt in them. Hell, I can feel it radiating off him in waves.

I know what I said was harsh, but goddamn. It needed to be said.

Just because everyone in this house are good friends doesn’t mean we need to know where everyone is at all times, and more importantly, who they’re with. That’s fucking insane.

Holden’s lip curls back. “You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

Oh, but I think I do. Because I’m a grown-ass man, and there’s no reason I should need to explain myself, let alone check in with any of them like they’re my goddamn babysitter or something.

“Fine,” I say, dropping into one of the empty spaces on the sectional. “You wanna have a little house meeting about when we’re allowed to go somewhere or not? Maybe we need to make it a rule where everyone’s schedule should be posted on the fridge. Then we know when everyone is coming and going. Does that sound good?”

All four of them keep silent at my ridiculous suggestions. And yeah, they are ridiculous, like this entire conversation has been from the start. But I’m on a roll, and I just keep going.

“Or better yet, maybe we sit around and braid each other’s hair while talking about the people we’re sleeping with?” I don’t wait for a response, nodding my head over to Braxton. “Let’s start with you. What twisted sister are you fucking these days?”

Braxton looks unperturbed by being put on the spot, a bored expression painted on his face when he mutters, “Kinsley.”

“Shocking turn of events,” I muse, my voice tainted with sarcasm as my attention shifts to Theo. “And what about you? Anyone special in your life that’s been eating up your time?”

He arches a brow. “You think I have time to be fucking someone? I’m already going on no sleep between my parents and my course load. I don’t have time to add another human to this shit.”

Yeah, that’s true. His parents have been going through an awfully messy divorce, dragging him through the middle of it, and now with the season about to start for him, I wouldn’t doubt he goes with only a few hours of sleep at a time.

“Fair enough,” I say, continuing down the line to my goalie. “And what about you, Cam? What’s the name of your current flavor of the week?”

“This is fucking stupid.”

You’re telling me, man.

“Too shy to share? You know that’s not gonna do for Holden.”

Tongue in cheek, he sighs and offers up a name. “Her name’s Rachel. Wanna know her favorite position too?”

A small smirk plays on my lips at his snarkiness—not something that comes from him often—but I’m quick to hide it before turning to Holden.

“Well, Hold? Do we need to hear what Rachel’s favorite position is while Cam fucks her into next week?”

“Okay, you’re making your point,” Holden says, shaking his head.

“No, no. I don’t think I am. And don’t think you’re getting out of this without fessing up to your own shit,” I snap, almost seething. “So tell me, how’re things going? You and Kason still sucking each other off in the locker room after practice?”

It’s a low blow and I know it, especially considering all the filthy shit I’ve done with Quinn in our own locker room. But I need to drive this home for him, let him see how absurd he’s being, and finally put a rest to this shit.

“Kason and I are done.”

Just like that, another pang of guilt hits me. Because even though I haven’t been around, I still know Holden. I know he’s not the monogamous type, at least not long term. But he and Kason were seeing each other more than I’ve ever seen him with any previous hook-ups, and I’m talking months longer.

So it’s no surprise my stomach drops when I hear him say that. And now, of all times.

“What happened?” I ask slowly, my temper and irritation with him immediately subsiding into concern. “I thought you guys were good.”

“We were,” Holden mutters before blowing out a long breath. “But I fucked it up, just like I always do. Nothing new there.”

A scoff comes from Braxton as he looks between us. “Yeah, I’m not sticking around for this. Y’all have fun braiding your hair and shit, but I’m out.”

With that, he rises from the couch and heads up the stairs.

My eyes fall to Camden and Theo before I arch a brow at them. “You in or you out?”

“No, don’t come in here acting like you give a shit now, Oak. It doesn’t fucking work that way,” Holden says, sinking back into the couch.

But I do give a shit.

Yeah, maybe I haven’t been around. And yeah, maybe I’ve been a shitty best friend to Holden the past few months, not keeping up or checking in the way I probably should’ve been. Still doesn’t change that he’s my number one, and if he needs me to be here for him, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.

“Except I do care, and I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t.”

Holden shakes his head, but there’s a smile hinting at the corner of his mouth when he says, “Fucking dick.”

“Aw, look at that. Mom and Dad made up,” Camden points out with a laugh, playing off Braxton’s earlier dig.

“Which one of them is Mom?” Theo asks, his attention flicking between me and Holden.

Before anyone can jump on that debate—because we all know it’s Holden—I turn us back to the topic at hand.

“So what happened?”

The smile that was working its way onto Holden’s face quickly disappears. “Like I said, I fucked up. All there really is to it.”

“But how?”

“Does this have anything to do with what’s going on with Phoenix and Kason?” Theo chimes in. “Because those two are thick as thieves, and they haven’t spoken in weeks.”

I recognize Phoenix as one of Theo’s teammates—maybe their center fielder—but I honestly can’t be sure. Keeping track of my own is hard enough, let alone everyone on the football and baseball teams too.

Holden’s head drops to his hands, shoulders slumping in defeat at Theo’s comment, repeating himself again. “Like I said. I. Fucked. Up.”

“Well, now I’m intrigued,” Cam says, leaning back into the cushion like he’s settling in to binge watch his favorite television show. “Theo, go grab the popcorn. We might be here a while.”

Rolling his eyes, Theo rises and heads to the kitchen where I hear him digging through the pantry. Which is kind of hilarious, minus the part where Holden still looks like he’d rather lick a rusty pair of scissors than talk about this.

“Guys, seriously,” he tries reasoning. “It’s a saga, and not a good one.”

“But Theo’s already getting the popcorn,” Cam counters. “And besides, I’ve got some time to kill, so might as well get it off your chest.”

Holden’s head drops back against the couch before he turns it toward me. “How much time you got?”

I lift my good shoulder with a shrug. “However much time it takes.”

“You sure you don’t need to go hang out with your other friends?” he teases before giving me a playful shove. Which, of course, is to the same shoulder that’s been throbbing all night from Carter being a dickweed on the ice.

Holden’s eyes become saucers when he realizes what he did, and I can’t help but laugh through the pain shooting down my arm.

“Now you’re lucky if I’ll listen at all.”

“So fucking dramatic tonight. You’re definitely the Mom,” Holden gripes before turning and calling over the couch. “Theo! Bring an ice pack while you’re at it!”