I never heard anything. I would’ve heard them if they’d done something, right? I would’ve recognized the sounds she makes.
Emmett snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Can you not say anything to Dad about this? I don’t want her to get in trouble. Especially after everything with Lane.”
The shitty older brother inside me wants to deck him in the face for sleeping with my girl. Anger bubbles beneath my skin and my ears heat from the pure rage pulsing through me.
But she isn’t mine anymore. She never really was.
So instead of throwing my fist in my brother’s face, I steel my emotions, clear my throat, and give him a small nod. “I won’t say anything. No worries.”
And because I’m apparently a masochist, I can’t help but ask: “So are you guys, like, a thing now?” I give my best attempt to keep my tone casual.
He turns his head over his shoulder again, a wide grin spread across his face. “Didn’t you see us in the truck when you ripped the door open all moody and pissed off?” He sets the rinsed thermos on the side table next to me.
I shake my head.
No. I didn’t notice anything in the truck. I was too busy restraining the all-consuming urge to knock the fuck out of Nate Keller for putting his hands on her.
I did think it was a little unusual when Emmett carried her out over his shoulder, but I thought she was too drunk to walk or was just being a brat about leaving. I was too caught up settling our tab with Brant to pay much attention.
This is so much worse than her dancing with Keller.
Emmett flashes one of his usual goofy grins and winks, grabbing his boot and heading back inside. Back to Sadie.
She’s probably waiting for him in his bed. Tangled in his rumpled sheets like she used to be for me.
A lump forms in my throat and I try to swallow it down.
Yeah. This is a lot fucking worse.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SADIE
Sunlightpeeksthroughagap in the curtains, blinding me.
My head feels like it’s splitting open from the inside out, and my entire body is achy.
I wince, turning away from the glaring light and shifting to sit up, but I realize too late that was a cosmic mistake.
The entire room tilts, my mouth begins to sweat, and I barely make it to the bathroom in time.
After rinsing my mouth, I reach for my toothbrush—but it’s not there. In fact, my entire toothbrush holder is missing.
Where the fuck is my toothbrush?
My eyes snag on my reflection in the mirror and I freeze.
This is not my bathroom.
A small groan slips past my lips as I take in my disheveled appearance. My hair is a chaotic and tangled mess, and I’m dressed in only a baggy Nirvana T-shirt that barely covers my underwear.
Not just any shirt.Emmett’s T-shirt.
My eyes round in horror and I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle my shriek.
Oh, fuck.
Everything comes flooding back to me in a montage of slow-motion flashes.
