Chapter 36 : Sound From The Bathroom
HAYDEN’S POV
The first thing I noticed when I walked into the room was the silence. It was not the normal kind. This was heavier and thicker.
Then I heard it.
A muffled sound from the bathroom, like someone trying not to make one.
I froze. “Stephen?” I called, dropping my duffel by the bed.
But no response.
I stepped closer to the bathroom door. The light underneath was on. I could hear breathing now.
I knocked once. “Stephen?”
There was a pause, then another sound, sharper this time. A broken inhale.
My chest tightened. “Steph. You okay?”
There was a second where I almost walked away because of my pride and ego. The mess between us is still sitting raw from practice, from everything before that. But I knocked again, louder.
“Open the door.”
There was silence, then the lock clicked. The door opened slowly and I wasn’t prepared for the sight of him.
His eyes were red, not just watery but red like he had been fighting something too big to hold back. His jaw was tight, like he was embarrassed I had seen him like this.
Stephen didn’t cry, so I was confused about what was going on. “What happened?” I asked, softer than I meant to.
“Nothing,” he said automatically.
I leaned against the doorframe. “That’s bullshit.”
His shoulders tensed.
For a second, I thought he would snap at me and tell me to mind my business or even shut me out like he always did.
Instead, he exhaled and it sounded exhausted.
“Do you ever feel like you’re replaceable?” he asked suddenly.
The question caught me off, guard. “What?”
“Like no matter how hard you try, someone’s always waiting to take your spot, like on the field or off it.” He swallowed. “Everywhere.”
I felt something shift in my chest. “Who told you that?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t answer right away. “It was a guy named Troy,” he said finally.
My jaw tightened. “What about him?”
“He said Marcus gets bored fast.”
Ah, so that’s what this was about. Stephen is jealous and scared and the worst part? I understood it.
I crossed my arms. “And you believed him?”
“I don’t know,” Stephen snapped. “Maybe I did for a second. Maybe I just……” He broke off, frustrated. “I don’t like not knowing where I stand.”
The honesty in his voice hit harder than I expected. “You think I do?” I shot back before I could stop myself. His eyes flicked to mine. “You think it’s easy watching you walk around like you don’t care about anything? Like none of this touches you?” I continued. “You act like you’ve got it all under control, but you’re losing it in the bathroom alone.”
His expression faltered. “Because I don’t know how to not compete,” he said. “It’s the only thing I’m good at.”
The words hung between us and suddenly, this wasn’t about Marcus. It wasn’t even about Troy. It was about us.
The tension had been building for months. On the field, in the locker room, in every look that lasted a second too long.
“You and I,” I said slowly, “we don’t know how to exist without trying to beat each other.”
His lips twitched faintly. “You started that.”
“Did not.”
“You did.”
A breath of something almost like a laugh slipped between us and just like that, the edge dulled.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Look. I don’t want to fight you anymore.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Since when?”
“Since I’m tired,” I admitted. “Tired of feeling like I have to prove something every time you step on the field.”
He studied me carefully. “So what are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m saying truce.” The word felt strange in my mouth. “We stay out of each other’s lanes. You focus on your game. I focus on mine. No more stupid ego crap.”
“And off the field?” he asked.
That was the complicated part. “Off the field,” I said carefully, “we stop pretending we hate each other.”
The air shifted. Stephen stepped out of the bathroom fully now, closer than before. I could see the faint tremble still in his hands.
“You really think we can just… switch it off?” he asked.
“No,” I said honestly. “But we can stop making it worse.”
He searched my face like he was looking for an angle for a catch but there wasn’t one. “I don’t want to be your enemy,” I said.
The vulnerability in that admission surprised even me.
His jaw softened. “You’re not,” he said quietly.
The space between us had narrowed without either of us realizing it.
I could feel the heat from his skin.
The chemistry….God, it was always there. We just buried it under competition and anger and pride. “You drive me insane,” he muttered.
“You’re not exactly easy either.”
Then his hand brushed mine and neither of us moved away. My pulse kicked up as his eyes flicked to my mouth and that was it.
It was like something snapped or maybe something gave in.
I don’t remember who moved first.
I just know one second we were standing there, breathing the same air, and the next his hands were in my shirt and my mouth was on his.
It wasn’t a soft kiss. It was months of tension colliding.
His back hit the wall. My hands were in his hair. His fingers gripped my waist like he needed something solid to hold onto.
He made a moan against my mouth that nearly wrecked me.
All that anger? It wasn’t anger.
It was this…..this fucking sexual tension since the day he first kissed me.
His lips were warm and demanding, and when I deepened the kiss, he didn’t pull away. He kissed me back like he had been waiting and he was starving.
My brain screamed that this was a terrible idea. What will people say? But my body didn’t care.
His fingers slid up my neck and mine traced the line of his jaw, the bruise faintly visible from earlier.
“You’re trouble,” he breathed against my lips.
“You kissed me back.”
“Shut up and fucking do that again.”
I almost laughed, but then he pulled me in again and whatever humor was there dissolved into heat.
The world shrank to the sound of our breathing as he pressed his body against mine.
Then…..there was a knock at the door. We froze and another knock.
“Yo, Hayden! You in there?”
Reality slammed back in. I stepped away like I’d been burned by his touch.
Stephen’s lips were swollen. His hair is a mess. His eyes were dark and stunned. What the hell did we just do?
My heart was racing for a completely different reason now.
Another knock. “Hayden!” I ran a hand over my face. “I can’t……..” I muttered.
Stephen didn’t say anything. He just watched me, chest still rising and falling hard.
I stepped back toward the door, then stopped.
For a split second, I almost went back and kissed him again.
Instead, I grabbed my jacket. “I need air,” I said and then I was gone.