A shadow of doubt crosses Trey’s face, creasing it into a frown. “Then what—”
“Give me another chance.” Greg rubs a forefinger along the tender skin at Trey’s wrist, stroking it gently. “We’re still on for today, right? Let me caddy for you, get to know you now that you’re older, the real you, and tonight I’ll make it up to you. What do you think?”
Indecision wars across Trey’s smooth features. “I still need a caddy,” he murmurs, watching the pattern Greg’s finger makes as it strums over his wrist. “And I definitely want you on my bag.”
Greg grins. “On and off the course, I hope.”
Trey looks up, meeting Greg’s eyes with a stern gaze. “But if you’re just f*****g around with me here—”
“I’m not,” Greg assures him. “Let me prove it…”
He trails off as Trey stands, extracting his hand from
