Page 84

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Christian

The rest of the night seems to crawl by in a blur.

After the very harsh—and very deserved—dressing down I’d gotten from my brother, I dumped out the vodka bottle and rejoined the party. Not that I was in the mood.

Seeing the fear and disappointment I'd put on my baby brother's face will forever haunt me, but it's not Marisol's fault that I screwed up. She doesn't deserve shit to go down on her special day, so I show up the rest of the night. I plaster a smile on my face, rough-house with my cousins, take family photos. I even laugh when my mom sends Tay and Huck home with nearly a truckload of leftovers.

But my eyes keep drifting toward Devon.

He's not hard to spot. The guy sticks out in a way that has nothing to do with how tall he is or his clothes. He spends the rest of the party hovering in the shadows, only half present. When someone pulls him into a conversation, he's polite and responsive, but then he retreats again, like he's not sure if he belongs here. Every time our gazes almost meet, he looks away first.

It shouldn't bother me as much as it does. I mean, Carlos won't look at or speak to me, either, but I deserve that. I'm really fucking bothered by the cold shoulder from Devon. Which is why I'm more than happy to leave when the night finally winds down.

After helping with the cleanup and sending everyone on their way, Devon and I climb into my Bronco, exhausted. It's long past midnight, and I'm fucking drained—not only from driving for thirteen hours but also spending so much time with my family. To be honest, my body craves a few shots and a day’s worth of sleep right about now, but after seeing Carlos nearly in tears, I should probably dry out for a while.

The drive back to the city is long. Dev spends it looking out the window as the radio fills the silence, one song bleeding into the next. It isn't until we walk into my silent apartment that he finally speaks.

“Tonight was fun.”

I shrug out of my suit jacket, forcing a grin. “Yeah. We Totillos know how to have a good time.”

He's quiet for a moment. “That shit with your brother, though… Everything cool?”

Stiffening, I automatically prepare to brush him off, but the memory of him running around with my cousins earlier forces me to relax.

He's got depth, Arya had said. So maybe I can trust him a little.

“It's… not good. But it's not bad. I knew you fuckers were listening at the door.”

“We were worried,” he mumbles, then corrects himself when I raise a brow. “I mean, Taylor was worried. About you. He seemed upset that he didn't know what was happening.”

A heavy breath leaves my nostrils. Great. So I upset both my brother and my best friend in the same damn night. “Growing up, Tay had things pretty shitty. He had a lot to deal with, and my home was his safe space by the time we became teens. Dad was gone by then, so telling him about it didn't really matter.”

Though, to be fair, I didn't know how shitty his homelife was until his dad almost killed him our senior year. Tay masked his bruises by starting fights with Huck.

Devon watches me lift my foot onto the coffee table to untie my boot. “Look, I'm not exactly an expert on friendship or whatever, but isn't telling each other important things how it works?”

“It's not,” I snap before checking my tone. “Important, I mean. I'm handling it. I've been handling it.”

“Yeah? With vodka?”

“I'm done with this conversation.”

He huffs dryly. “Okay, hot shot. You keep on handling it.”

A spark of anger ignites as I kick off my shoes. “You really want to talk about this shit after the situation I found you in? Twice? Needing bailed out of jail and getting your ass kicked?”

“This isn't about me,” he fires back. “We all know I'm a piece of shit, Christian. But from what I saw tonight, you ain't like that.”

“You didn't see shit. And for the record, being a piece of shit is a choice you can stop at any time.”

He groans and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I'm not gonna fight. Just tell me what you need, other than drinking. How do you usually blow off steam?”

A humorless laugh bubbles out of my lungs. “Well, you're out of luck, motherfucker, because I only let loose by fighting or fucking.”

“Then fuck me.”