Chapter 87 Aslan
Aslan
Was he bipolar? On drugs? Or just plain screwing with my head?
Why the hell couldn’t he just let me be happy? Why did he have to get an inch from my face and throw me completely off balance like that?
My heart was still pounding in my chest, every fucked-up nerve in my body buzzing, torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to punch him straight in the face.
Why did his presence do this to me? I didn’t want it.
I had wanted it, yes.
Before I even began to consider feeling anything for Aitor, before I gave him a real chance, I had tried to understand Garrett. I had opened myself up to him, had almost begged him to give us a chance if there was one.
And he’d said no.
Now I had moved on.
At least I was trying to.
My body clearly hadn’t gotten the memo, and my head was still struggling to catch up, but I had made a choice. I had chosen Aitor, and the second I committed to him, there was no going back.
I wasn’t a player. And Aitor wasn’t someone you played with.
He trusted me. He cared about me. He deserved so much better than my body’s shitty reactions to his best friend.
It sucked that Garrett and I couldn’t just be friends. I really thought that if that goddamn tension between us disappeared, things could be easier. For him. For me. For everyone.
I wanted to help him. Support him.
But it was becoming painfully clear that Garrett couldn’t be with me or without me.
He just needed me there.
Close enough to reach.
Close enough to pull.
So far, I’d let him. Every time he got too close, every time those eyes locked onto mine—too intense, too full of something I didn’t want to name—I froze.
I never said no.
Not properly.
But he’d gone too far this time. There was no way in hell I was denying Aitor, risking hurting him, losing him, for one of Garrett’s sick mind games. I didn’t give a shit who got him hard. Garrett had so many goddamn issues that probably no one did.
“Go practice or go home, Garrett,” I said finally, my voice flat, exhausted from the constant push and pull. Then I turned around and walked away before he could say anything else.
Before I could change my mind.
I saw Aitor coming toward me from across the field, and just like that, everything inside me settled.
Black jeans, black turtleneck, that cream blazer hugging his frame so perfectly, his long hair moving with the wind like he had stepped straight out of some anime scene. My beautiful prince.
As soon as we reached each other, he wrapped his arms around me, grounding me instantly.
“I’m so muddy and sweaty, babe…” I said, leaning in to kiss him, anyway.
“Let’s get you clean,” he murmured with a soft smile, kissing me back before pulling away slightly. He glanced over my shoulder. “Everything okay with our ray of sunshine over there?” he added, pointing casually toward Garrett.
“He’s just been especially charming since the wrestling match,” I said dryly. “I think he resents me and is trying to mess with me as usual.”
Aitor took my hand, lacing our fingers together as we started walking toward the main building. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the match, angel. That’s just Garr being Garr.”
We headed toward my dorm, but I stopped him halfway.
“Not there. James is having a hot date, apparently.”
Aitor let out a soft laugh. “A hot date, huh? We wouldn’t want to crash that.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t,” I said with a grin. “He’d probably crash our balls if we did. Might be ‘the one,’ according to him.”
Aitor chuckled, shaking his head. “Then we go to mine?”
“We’re already here,” I said, tugging him lightly toward the gym. “I can just use the showers. I left the change of clothes in my locker.”
The gym was empty when we walked in, quiet and dim in that late-evening way that made everything feel slower.
I grabbed my clothes and a towel while Aitor headed to the vending machine to grab two hot chocolates.
I stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over me, washing away the dirt, the sweat… the lingering tension from Garrett.
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the tile.
Fucking Garrett.
Even now, he was still in my head.
I forced myself to breathe, to let it go, to focus on something real. Something steady.
Something that wasn’t going to destroy me.
When I stepped back into the changing room, towel around my waist, I was still drying my hair when I heard footsteps.
“Aitor?” I called.
It wasn’t him.
Rick walked in instead, fresh from a run, his eyes locking onto me with a smug, ugly smile.
“Well, if it isn’t the Ass-hole,” he said, walking closer. “Been meaning to congratulate you on that win… Ass-hole.”
I didn’t even bother looking at him properly. “Sure you have,” I muttered, moving to grab my clothes.
Before I could take another step, his hand clamped around my arm.
I stilled.
“You don’t get to walk in here,” he went on, voice low and aggressive, “from whatever trailer park you crawled out of and fuck up the balance. The hierarchy. Taking shit people have worked years for.”
“Rick,” I said evenly, trying to pull my arm free. “Let me go.”
Instead, he stepped closer, right in my face now.
Then suddenly—
He was gone.
Aitor had crossed the room in seconds, grabbing Rick and slamming him hard against the wall.
The sound echoed.
Rick froze instantly. “Aitor—”
“You heard what he said,” Aitor cut in, his voice calm but dangerous. “Leave him the fuck alone. Unless you wanna fight me.”
Rick’s hands shot up immediately. “No, man. Sorry. My mistake.”
“Apologize to him,” Aitor said coldly. “Not to me.”
Rick looked at me, all that attitude gone. “Sorry.”
Then he was out of there in seconds.
Before Aitor could even turn back to check on me, I was already looking at him, a slow smirk spreading across my face.
“Do you have any idea how sexy as fuck you look right now?” I murmured, stepping closer and kissing him. “I can handle my own bullies, but this time… it was really hot.”
I brushed my lips along his ear, teasing.
His hands found my waist instantly.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, pulling me closer. “Talking about looking hot as hell…”
His mouth moved along my neck, my shoulder, still damp from the shower, his hand sliding slowly down my back.
“Maybe you should’ve showered at my place after all,” he added, voice low.
I shivered under his touch, letting the towel slip from my fingers.
“Why?” I whispered. “We’re alone now…”
That was all it took.
Within seconds, Aitor started two of the nearby showers, letting the sound of the water and the steam fill the air, before he grabbed me by the waist, pulling me towards him with hunger and backing me into one of the open stalls.
“We are… And even if we weren't. I want you, angel,” he muttered, pressing me against the tiled wall and capturing my mouth in a fierce kiss.
And for the first time since Garrett had stood in front of me—
I stopped thinking about him.