Changing Tides 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 39

Chapter 39 – Trey's POV

I stomp down the hill, my grip tightening around my can of beer. My heart hammers against my chest, raging with emotions despite my attempt to remain calm. As much as I want to brag about how I was the one to walk away from Bennett this time, I'm not experiencing any sort of satisfaction or pride. No, instead I'm left feeling angry and somewhat nauseous.

With my thoughts distracted, I walk right through a game of Bags taking place in the middle of the lawn. One of the guys ready to toss shouts that I'm an asshole. I roll my eyes and decide against flipping him off. Not worth it.

Bennett's face pops into my mind, and I huff under my breath. He looked too damn good. I shudder at the phantom touch brushing the side of my neck and along the length of my jaw. All it took was something small - him reaching for the back of my elbow - for me to remember it all over again. The way he touched me. How good it felt to have his hands all over me.

And how much I miss him, despite everything.

I force a steadying breath through my nose and take a seat on a spare lawn chair next to the volleyball game. It appears Roland's managed to talk his way into joining the game. He high-fives one of the females on his team after winning the point, laughing at some unheard comment she makes as he walks back to his place. After another few points he spots me and gives me a grin of acknowledgement.

I lift my beer, nodding to him in cheers, and relax into the chair. I think for the hundredth time how much easier it would be if I had feelings for Roland. A relationship with him would be easy, comfortable. But would it be real? Would it make me ache if we fought? Would my skin prickle with heat every time his fingers passed over my body?

Roland spikes the ball over the net. The opposing team has no chance saving it, and the point is won in his team's favor. My best friend raises his hands up in the air and walks in a circle of self-victory while a few of his teammates clap him on the back.

Cocky bastard.

I smirk watching it all unfold. Even though Roland and I are different, there are so many reasons I consider myself lucky to be in his life. As I stare at him and silently evaluate our relationship, I realize that as much as I care about him, none of my feelings move beyond friendship. The past month with him has been great. He never once broached the subject of his emotions for me, and I never brought up Bennett to him.

We simply enjoyed our friendship, building back a relationship I think we both realized wasn't worth throwing away.

I drain the rest of my beer and set it in the grass. Roland serves and scores another point, and this time the cheers surpass all the others. The game has been won, leaving the opposing team slumping with defeat. A few of them angrily point towards Roland, probably pissed at themselves for letting him join the game. Or maybe they're pissed for not letting him on their team instead.

Roland enjoys all the high-fives and shoulder pats of congratulations before jogging to the sidelines to join me. He lifts the end of his shirt and dabs away the newly formed sweat beading around his forehead.

"Want to jump in on next game?" he asks.

"Nah, I'm good."

Roland takes a moment to catch his breath. His dark gaze moves around the upbeat party, studying the various partygoers with a calm expression. But then his eyes become fixated on something – or someone – and I turn to see who has caught his attention.

Bennett's bold gaze reaches us all the way from the DJ booth. His face is a canvas of calm, expressionless as always. His masculine hands move around the sound system in front of him, but every few seconds his gaze flickers back to us.