Never Ever

23| Meet me in the locker room

For the next few minutes, as I listen to Addy go on about Cabo, I weigh up my after-meet options: catch an uber to my dorm before Noah walks out or wait and face the problem head-on. I know which option I think I'd prefer, but then that's only delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, I'll be forced to face him, so it might as well be tonight.

I turn to Addy, ignoring the steadily rising anger in my chest, and gently tap her arm. "I need to run inside to use the bathroom. I'll be back in a second, okay?"

"We'll wait here for you," she says before squeezing my arm, and then I'm hurrying into the Spieler Complex as fast as I can without drawing suspicion. This is it, I tell myself, the last time I'll let Noah get under my skin. From now on, we need boundaries, and for better or worse, tonight is the night I'm going to set them.

I cross the foyer, relishing in the harsh smell of chlorine and recalling the adrenaline I'd feel as my teammates and I made our way, one by one, into the locker room. Lockers would slam, and the nervous chatter of my fellow swim team would fuel my excitement in a way that I've missed. That's the thing about teammates: whether you win or lose the meet, you do everything together, which is why Noah's absence is concerning.

The door to the locker rooms sits up ahead. I take a deep breath and quietly push it open, pausing to let my eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent lights. The room is quiet, except for the occasional sound of dripping water from the showers in the back, and the chlorine scent I'd smelled a moment prior is replaced by dampness and soap.

That's when I spot him leaning on one of the lockers, his wet hair falling in thick strands over his forehead and his broad shoulders glistening with water. I step closer and pause, taking in his shirtless upper half and fitted gray sweatpants. I'd never admit it, at least not out loud, but beyond my fury over what Pax said, there's a part of me that's happy to see him.

He turns his head as I begin to approach him, the frown that had previously been playing on his lips swiftly tugging at the corners. "As happy as I am to see you, Coach would murder us both if he knew you were in here."

"Yeah, well, only you'd deserve it," I say.

He opens his mouth, no doubt ready to argue his point, but his attention is drawn to the Tigers jacket draped around my shoulders. His eyes darken, roving over the emblem emblazoned on the front right pocket.

The shift in his demeanor is instant. I look down at myself, folding my arms across the dreaded tiger emblem like I'd forgotten I was wearing it. Obviously, in hindsight, showing up in his competitor's jacket isn't the smartest idea, but it's too late to rectify it now.

His eyes flutter closed as he slowly exhales. "Did you come here just to torture me, Blue?"

In the silence that follows, my eyes trace the contours of his body, taking in every muscle from his clenched, taut neck down to his chiseled torso. The sinews in his arms and chest are coiled, his veins bulging with effort as he fights to keep his composure.

"I came here to find out why Pax is under the impression we're together," I say, and the anger I've been fighting to suppress quickly rises to the surface. "What exactly are you trying to do, Noah?"

"What am I trying to do?" Noah storms forward, forcing me back until I'm up against the locker and cutting off any chance of escape. "You show up in the Calbears locker room wearing his fucking jacket. What are you trying to do, Blue?"

I open my mouth before wetting my lips, acutely aware of how dry my throat feels. Boundaries, I think. Something about boundaries. "I was cold, and he offered me his jacket, which is beside the point. What were you thinking hitting him, Noah? You could have gotten yourself disqualified."