Chapter 89 Garrett
Garrett
What the hell was wrong with me?
I didn’t even make it halfway across the field before the weight of what I’d just done hit me.
Cornering him like that. Getting in his face. Pushing him to question his own relationship like some bipolar, confused asshole who didn’t know what the hell he wanted.
I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling hard as I slowed the horse down.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I wasn’t even sure what had gotten into me. Whether I’d crossed a line with him… or worse—whether I’d crossed a line with Aitor.
That thought hit differently.
Because this wasn’t just about me and Aslan anymore.
Aitor knew. I’d told him everything. Every fucked-up thought, every intention, every warning about what would happen when I was done playing along with all this shit.
But that… that right there?
That hadn’t been part of the plan.
I frowned, jaw tightening.
Was Aslan going to tell him?
Would that be the thing that finally pushed Aitor over the edge?
I didn’t want that.
Not like this.
I swung down from the horse, barely bothering to secure it properly before heading toward the building. I needed to find him. Fix it. Or at least… understand what the hell I’d just done before it blew up in my face.
Because I didn’t want it to be like this.
I was going to get him back. But I was going to do it right.
Not by stabbing Aitor in the back.
If there was a right way to do something like that...
By the time I got closer to the building, I caught voices around the corner.
Rick.
“…I’m telling you, that asshole’s gonna pay,” he was saying, low and pissed. “Sooner or later, I’m gonna make him pay for that shit.”
I didn’t even stop. Didn’t bother with him.
If he had gone after Aslan—
My pace picked up instantly as I pushed through the doors, scanning the place without really thinking.
Empty.
Then I heard it.
Water.
Showers.
I headed straight for them. Not to snoop. Not to fuck around.
To make sure he was okay.
That was it.
That’s all it was supposed to be.
I shouldn’t have walked in.
I knew that the second I saw them.
Steam filled the room, water running, voices low, and then—
Him. Aslan.
And Aitor.
I froze.
Every instinct in my body telling me to turn around, walk the hell out, pretend I’d never seen any of it.
But I didn’t.
I stayed. Watched. And that was where everything went to shit.
By the time I stepped back out into the cold air, my head was spinning, my pulse still out of control, my body wired in a way that made no sense after everything I’d just been through that morning.
I let out a breath that sounded more like a laugh. I’d walked in there feeling guilty for messing with his head, and minutes later I was standing there watching them like a fucking creep.
Unbelievable.
I dragged my hands down my face, trying to ground myself, but it didn’t help. The images were still there. The sound of the water. The way he—
Fuck.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Get it together.
But there was one thing that didn’t add up. One thing that wouldn’t sit right no matter how many times I tried to push it down.
He hadn’t exposed me.
Aslan had seen me. I knew he had.
And he hadn’t said a word.
Hadn’t stopped.
Hadn’t pushed Aitor away or even hesitated.
If anything…
He’d leaned into it. Put on a goddamn show.
All that roughness. All that control. That edge in the way he moved, the way he held him—
That wasn’t for Aitor.
And I’d bet anything it never had been.
That was for me.
My jaw tightened as the thought settled in, heavy and impossible to ignore.
Did he still want me?
Did he miss me?
Did he actually feel anything for Aitor?
Could he even give him what Aitor deserved?
Or were they just… filling space?
Rebounds.
Aitor with Linnea.
Aslan…
With me.
The thought hit harder than it should’ve. Because if that was true—
Then what the hell were we doing?
I pushed off the wall, pulse kicking up again, but this time it wasn’t chaos.
It was something sharper.
Focused.
I needed to know, before I fucked with the only two people I actually gave a damn about…
I needed the truth.
James opened the door after I knocked for the tenth time.
I knew he was there. I could fucking hear him two seconds before the first knock. Why he wasn’t answering was beyond me.
Until I saw him.
Ruffled pink hair with purple highlights—I swear, only this boy… Slightly swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and behind him, more candles than at a funeral.
I couldn’t help it—I chuckled.
I’d seen him like that before. Many times. Back when we used to sneak around together in his room at his parents’ house.
“Where is he?” he asked, looking past me.
I frowned, glancing over my shoulder. “Where’s who?”
“The killer,” he deadpanned. “Because the only reason someone would knock, repeatedly, on a door like a freaking maniac is if they’re being chased by a murderer.”
“Well, I’m glad there’s none, or I’d be dead by now,” I shot back.
“I was kinda busy, Garrett,” he said, pointing inside the room, silently telling me to move along.
“And I was kinda getting murdered, remember? Priorities…?” I said, lowering my hands between us like I was weighing two options on an invisible scale.
“Unfortunately, you weren't…” he sighed.
“Ouch. Can I come in?” I asked, already stepping forward.
“No!” He shoved me right back out. “I told you I’m busy.”
“I’ll wait,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Yes, you will—but in your room,” he replied, looking at me like I was completely unhinged.
I let out a breath, patience snapping. “Look, I really need to talk to you. Can you ask him to leave? Please?”
The ‘please’ made him pause. Yeah, it was a nice, smart touch.
James looked at me, actually thinking now, trying to measure how serious this was.
“Fucking Garrett…” he muttered under his breath. “Go to your dorm. I’ll come over in an hour.”
“Oh… We—we kinda can’t meet in my dorm. Anyone—I mean… Trisha could show up.”
“O-M-G…” He dragged a hand down his face. “Then come back in an hour.”
And just like that—
He slammed the door in my face.
Fifty-nine and a half minutes later, I was back.
He opened at the first knock this time.
“So,” he said, crossing his arms, “what was so infuriatingly important that you had to absolutely demolish my date night?”
I walked past him without answering and sat straight down on Aslan’s bed.
He followed me in, already annoyed, already judging.
I looked at him for a second. Then I said it.
“Does he love him?”