us.
“What?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Does that nothing have anything to do with a smokin’ hot designer I happened to see in Langley’s office before practice?” He smirked.
I blinked, nearly missing a step. Thank God for banisters. She was already here? Fuck. How long had she been waiting?
“Bristol McClaren is here?” Sterling asked, glancing back as he hit the landing.
“I never said it was McClaren.” Caz shrugged, that fucking smirk still front and center on his smug little face.
“If it’s a designer and Briggs, then it’s Bristol McClaren,” Brogan muttered.
“See? Even he sees it!” Sterling laughed and held open the door so we could walk through.
“What’s going on with you two, anyway?” Caz asked. “Fuck! Sterling!”
I turned long enough to see Sterling laugh as the door nearly smacked Caz in the face.
“Gotta move faster, brother!” Sterling chuckled.
“I can’t believe my sister is marrying you.” Caz shook his head.
“What can I say? She has impeccable taste.” Sterling’s smile was contagious. He and London had been engaged for the last week, and the guy hadn’t quit grinning.
I swallowed down the little lump of envy that had clogged my throat unexpectedly. Did I want to be engaged? Hell no. But even I could admit that I was a little jealous that things were just so…settled for him. And yeah, he deserved it. He’d worked his ass off to win London’s heart.
Maybe it was simply that I was in a sex-only arrangement that had zero chance of becoming anything…deeper. When push came to shove, she lived in New York, and I didn’t.
“Yeah, yeah,” Caz said with a snort as we turned the corner for our locker room. “Just be glad our mother likes you because you’re still on my last nerve.”
“I’m an acquired taste,” Sterling quipped. “You’ll love me eventually.”
“Right.” Caz rolled his eyes.
“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.” Sterling grabbed me in a headlock as we walked into the locker room.
“Get off.” I shoved him off me with a laugh.
“Seriously.” Sterling lifted his brows.
“Seriously, what?” I toed off my shoes and started to strip out of my sweaty workout clothes.
“What’s going on with you and Bristol?” He lowered his voice, and concern flashed through his eyes.
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “She has me under contract.” And I have her under me.
“Right. Because that’s why the two of you never reappeared at the gala.”
I did a quick look around to make sure none of the other guys were listening in. What Bristol and I had wasn’t fodder for gossip—not that the rest of the team didn’t apparently know that she was here—but Sterling was one of my best friends. “It’s nothing. We’re just hanging out when we both happen to be free.”
“So she’s here for a work thing?”
“Not today.”
Sterling’s brow knit. “So she happens to be free on a Wednesday afternoon?”
My mouth opened and shut a couple of times as I thought that one over. “Fine, we’re…” Fuck, what were we? “We’re making time to hang out. But like I said, it’s not serious.”
“Huh.” Sterling scratched the back of his neck. “If making time for each other includes flying to each other’s cities when it’s not work-related, I’d say that’s more of a relationship than hanging out.”
“It’s not.” I shook my head in denial, wrapping a towel around my waist.
“I think we might need an expert opinion. Axel!” Sterling called out. “Can you come over here for a second?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I rubbed my temples.
Our giant Swedish captain came over with a towel around his waist and a curious expression. “What’s up?”
“I figure you’re the most happily married guy in here, so you could answer a hypothetical question for us.” Sterling glanced at me.
I glared back.
“Well, I’d probably put Cannon and Sawyer on that list, too—”
“I’m not answering shit!” Cannon called out, striding by for the shower.
Go figure.
“And Noble,” Maxim offered from the other side of the benches.
“I’m not married, remember?” Nathan answered from across the room. “Permanently fucking engaged, but not married. Heaven forbid we sign a piece of paper.”
I wasn’t touching that comment with a twenty-foot pole, especially when he was engaged to Asher’s sister.
“Right.” Sterling drawled out the word, then turned back to Axel. “So, let’s say you’re…” He glanced my way.
“Hanging out,” I clarified, folding my arms across my chest.
“Yep. That’s the term. You’re hanging out with a girl, and that girl flies to see you in another city. Is that a relationship? Oh, and she’s been to a game wearing your jersey.”
“I hate you,” I mumbled.
Axel’s brow furrowed.