Acquired Tastes

Chapter Fourteen

Everything between Neil and Roman felt loaded the next few days; they weren't rude to each other, but they spent as little time together as possible, and every time one of them spoke, Neil could feel the heaviness in the air.

A few evenings after everything had gone down, Neil went for a run through the woods, hoping to clear his mind. Desperate to have some time without any of these thoughts, he found himself running faster each time his thoughts drifted back to Roman. He came out of the woods, back onto campus, in a full sprint, and didn't slow down until he neared the dorms, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to see Alexis's name on the screen. He ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket, slowing to a walk. After several seconds, it rang again. He let out a breath and answered it.

"What?"

"Twelve, fuck, man, I'm so glad you picked up."

"I'm not."

"Okay, okay, look, I really need to talk to you. I feel really shitty about...everything. Can we meet up?"

Neil ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "I don't think I want that right now."

"Come on, man, please? I'm so fucking sorry, I know he's been awful to you, it's just me, you know? I was just feeling really fucking shitty, man, and you know, you were absolutely right, he's an entire con. I don't know, I just...I was talking to him about the stuff I'm going through, and he was just listening, man, and I know this is awful, but I just got kind of lost in the moment, like...I didn't expect him to be into any of the moves I made. I'm sorry, man, I know...I know you've told me how he can play people...I didn't think it would work on me."

"Can you just stop?" Neil hissed before he knew he was going to do so. "Just stop making it out like he fucking tricked you. This isn't his fault, he didn't know. You're the one that fucking knew."

"Fuck, man, I thought you of all people would understand how he-"

"You know what? If you actually want to take responsibility and genuinely apologize sometime, I might listen. I don't want whatever the fuck this is." Neil hung up, turned his phone off, and slid it back into his pocket, then took off toward Bingham, hoping that punching something might make him feel better.

There was a light on in the large room with punching bags and practice equipment, but no sounds or voices, so Neil made his way down the hall and into the room. When he stepped in, Roman glanced up from where he was sitting on one of the benches, wrapping a bandage around his knuckles, eyebrows rising in surprise. "Hey."

Neil walked over and stopped in front of him. "What are you doing?"

Roman looked down at his hands, continuing to wrap them, and shrugged slightly. "Practicing."

Neil dropped onto the bench beside him and nudged Roman's knee with his own. "What? Roman fuckin Parker practicing? I thought that was beneath you."

Roman rolled his eyes, half a grin on his face, and Neil's eyes dropped to Roman's hands; one was still unwrapped, and it was every color that skin shouldn't be. His chest tightened, and he swallowed hard. "Why are you practicing?"

Roman didn't answer as he finished bandaging his hand and tucked the end in. He picked up the rest of the roll and began on his other hand. "Maybe I'm just sick of being demolished every other day."

"Fair enough," Neil said, and Roman glanced at him, eyes narrowing, but not speaking. He continued wrapping. "I could help you practice," Neil said, leaning against his elbows, eyes still on Roman's fingers. "If you want."

Roman met his eyes again. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course."

Roman swallowed hard, studying his eyes. "Are you not...pissed anymore?"