My Player Bestfriend (Book #1)

Chapter Seven

By Thursday, the storm had officially rolled in — not the weather, but the kind of tension you feel in the air before a fight breaks out.

And it started with Taylor.

Tall. Blonde. Sharp-tongued. The kind of girl who always walked like the hallway was her runway and everyone else was just background noise.

Also: Austin's ex.

They weren't together long — three months tops — but everyone remembered them. That kind of couple. Loud. Public. Toxic.

Now she was back.

New school schedule. New highlights. Same old venom.

She spotted me at lunch and gave me that look. The one girls give when they've already decided they don't like you.

And then she made her move.

The rumor dropped during fifth period.

It spread like wildfire:
"Austin and Taylor hooked up again."

I didn't even hear it from a friend — I overheard it walking down the hallway.

"Wait, did you hear? He was at her house last night."

"Taylor said he texted her, not the other way around."

"She said he called Mary a rebound."

My stomach flipped.

By the time I got to my locker, it was already trending in our group chat. Even Jackie, who hated drama, texted me:
"You okay? Don't believe Taylor's BS."

Too late. It was already crawling under my skin.

I didn't text Austin.
Didn't call.
Didn't say a word.

And of course, he found me after school — storming across the parking lot like I'd wronged him.

"Mary."

I shut my locker harder than necessary. "Not now."

"I didn't hook up with Taylor."

"She said you did."

"Taylor says a lot of shit when she's bored."

"Did you go to her house?"

He hesitated.

Bad move.

"Unbelievable," I said, already turning away.

"She told me she needed to talk!" he followed after me. "I went over for ten minutes. She started pulling her usual mind games and I left."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd react like this!"

"Oh, sorry for being mad you maybe hooked up with your toxic ex!"

"I didn't hook up with anyone!"

The hallway was clearing out around us, but I didn't care. My voice was sharp now, all edge.

"You don't get to build something with me, say you care, make me believe it — and then sneak around with her behind my back."

"I didn't sneak—Mary, I swear—" he grabbed my hand.

"Let go."

"No."

His voice cracked — just a little — and I hated how much it got to me.

"Mary," he said softer now. "She doesn't mean anything to me. You do. That's why she's trying to ruin it."

I looked at him — and suddenly I couldn't breathe. Because he looked wrecked. And not because of guilt. Because he thought he might actually lose me.

And I hated how much I wanted to believe him.

That night, I ended up at his house.

I told myself I was just going over to talk.

To get closure. Or clarity. Or maybe just yell some more.

But when he opened the door and I saw him standing there in sweats, hair a mess, eyes tired and full of all the things he hadn't said yet — everything inside me cracked.

I dropped my bag.

He stepped forward.

And just like that—

We kissed.

Harder than before. Angrier. Needier. A thousand emotions wrapped in one explosion.

Hands in hair. Fingertips on skin. Breaths caught in between gasps.

We didn't speak.
We didn't need to.

He lifted me. I wrapped around him like gravity didn't apply anymore.

And when we finally made it to his room —
When the door clicked shut —
When the world narrowed to just us —

It wasn't about proving anything.

It wasn't even about sex.

It was about finally giving in to the thing we'd been dancing around for too long.

And as his lips found my neck and mine found his shoulder—

I didn't feel scared.

I felt chosen.