Page 125 of Contested

“It’s kinda funny, you know. Going from hating each other to doing promotional shit together.”

Marcos’ heart sank in his chest, feeling as though it was trying to fall out of his back. He turned his head to look over at Parker but could barely see him. His jaw worked once, and he forced it to stop.

There was nothing in Parker’s voice that sounded like an accusation. He just sounded half-asleep and mildly entertained at the idea of whatever Marcos and Sebastian had been before the Mustangs, turning into whatever the club saw them as.

Marcos wondered what exactly that was. How close were they to knowing the truth? How would Sebastian feel about it?

Marcos didn’t know what to think about it. If people knew what he and Sebastian had done behind closed doors, he had no idea how he would react. If he would care. Or if they would.

Still, Marcos felt the words press too close.

“I mean, we don’t really have a choice,” Marcos finally said, fingers tightening around each other. “We’re on the same team.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Parker went quiet, then he exhaled loudly. “But you like him, right?”

“What?”

The word came out too fast.

Parker didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he was too tired to care. “Like, you don’t hate him anymore? You guys are actually chill?”

“Oh.” Marcos relaxed, taking in a deep breath. “Yeah, we’re good. Most of the time.”

He tried to make the answer sound normal. Like he was just an old rival who had learned to live with his new teammate.

His body wasn’t reacting like it was a normal answer, though. His pulse had already jumped and wasn’t coming back down. Then a thought ran through his mind.

Maybe I would care if they knew.

He started at the ceiling, at the vague shadows barely forming in the low light. Marcos made himself breathe evenly.

“Thought so. You look at him too soft now.” Parker’s voice was quiet, the words fading as tiredness started to take him.

The words hung in the air, and Marcos didn’t know where he could put them to make them settle better.

His pulse quickened again as he thought about how he looked at Sebastian. At the club during training, in the gym, and in the locker room. He thought about the promotional shoot—Sebastian laughing in the cold and the way Marcos had watched him as they lay on the ground.

How he stared at Sebastian in private. In bed as the morning light came through the window.

Marcos swallowed, and it was rough in his throat.

“Anyway,” Parker said, and Marcos heard him shifting in his bed. “Night.”

“Night,” Marcos mumbled back, his eyes locked onto the darkness above him.

Parker rolled over, the mattress creaking beneath him. A chip packet crinkled once, then went quiet. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and gentle snores escaped him, filling the room and sitting in the darkness with Marcos, who stayed awake. His eyes still locked onto the ceiling.

His mind latched onto the feeling of Sebastian’s hand in his and the look he’d had on his face before Parker appeared. Tired and worried and a little softer than he usually let himself be in public. Then the speed with which he had pulled away. The space he had made. The way he had disappeared down the hallway with a smile that barely lasted long enough for Marcos to return it.

Marcos silently cursed himself, then rolled over, closing his eyes.

The game the next day was at midday, which meant an early morning. He knew he was going to greet it with next to no sleep.

|| Chapter Twenty-Seven ||

Sebastian – “You’re awake”

The crowd had been in Marcos’ ears from the moment he stepped onto the ground.