Wyatt dips his chin, twirling his rum and Coke in his hand.
She studies his side profile carefully. “Why is he suddenly visiting so frequently? Trying to mend the distance or something?”
Wyatt tries and fails to hide his smirk, glancing at Saltzy, who shakes his head, like he doesn’t want to be involved. “Or something.”
“Wyatt Caulfield!” Penny gasps, smacking her hand on his forearm. “You know something!”
“I don’t know anything,” he says, chuckling under his breath. “He misses us. Is that not enough for you?”
Her dark blue eyes narrow. “You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not,” he promises, his crooked smile growing as her eyes narrow further. “He’s just repenting a bit, P. Let it go.”
She glares at him even harder but he doesn’t budge, so she has to admit defeat. She falls back into her seat with a look of warning toward Callum.
Cal just raises his hands, like he doesn’t know anything and wants no part of this.
When I’m a few more drinks deep and feeling a lot better than I had been, I stop worrying about where Boston is in the room and start thinking about reasons why it wouldn’t be so bad if I tried to talk to him.
It’d be weirder if I didn’t, right? Carter would wonder why I suddenly dropped all interest in his teammate, wouldn’t he?
I’m currently tucked into one of the booths with Arden. She’s definitely more drunk than usual, and my brother, who is across the table from us, is remarkably composed. He’s drinking, but he’s drinking slowly, just in case he has to take care of his girlfriend.
“It’s her birthday, you have to take pictures for her. Grab her phone. Get a cute one of us and our drinks.”
Carter rolls his eyes, but he takes Arden’s phone from me like a good boyfriend.
I glance at her as he pulls up the camera, gesturing toward her drink. “Should we cheers, or like, pretend to laugh so it’ll look cute?”
Arden shrugs. “Both?”
“We can do both,” I say. “I want a cute one, too, with our full outfits, but we can get those later on.”
“Deal,” she says.
“If the photographer ever figures out how to work a phone!” I snap, jokingly. We both look across the booth. Carter is staring at Arden’s phone, his brow furrowed, his eyes hyper-focused.He scrolls, numerous times, clearly not even bothering with the camera.
“Carter?” Arden asks.
He doesn’t answer. He pauses, zooming in on something.
Arden goes rigid beside me, and my heart sinks. What the hell did he just find on her phone? That she cheated? Or that she’s currently having an affair with that cop? One hundred worst-case scenarios enter my brain, but then my brother goes unnaturally still and his eyes snap up to me.
To me.
I know that look. The hardness in his eyes, making the sparkle fizzle out to pure and lethal iciness. His eyes stay locked on my face, seconds passing by in slow motion, that phone still in his hands.
Alarm bells ring in my head.
“Carter,” Arden warns, panic in her voice. She moves forward quickly, like she’s going to jump across this table to get him, but there’s no stopping this once it’s started.
Her attempt to grab him seems to break him from his trance, but he doesn’t acknowledge her. He slams that phone down on the table so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t crack, and launches himself out of the booth. He tears his eyes from my face with the scariest look I have ever seen, and I have seen Carter at his worst.
“Shit,” Arden hisses, but she can’t go anywhere. She’s trapped between me and the booth.
I reach my hand out quicker than she does, shoving her back with my other. She deflates next to me. If she’s screwing around, I need to see it with my own eyes to believe it. I really don’t want to hate her. I love her too much. I need to know.
I snatch the phone.
