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My brother-in-law finally reached over and slapped me on the back. “You okay there, Fox?”
Eyes watering, I nodded, mumbling, “Yeah. Fine. Just went down the wrong pipe.”
My gaze veered back to Gracen as he answered Julian with a nod. “Yeah. She’s been texting some fucker that goes by the Warthog, and she won’t tell me shit about him.”
I immediately lowered my gaze, feeling like I’d expose myself and break Bella’s confidence if anyone noticed the guilty expression on my face. But fuck, Gray was seriously worried about her. And he was like a damn brother to me. Every man here was. Yet I was lying to all of them by keeping silent as they made faces at each other and murmured, “The Warthog?”
“Why would she keep a relationship from me?” Gray went on. “Unless it’s a toxic one.”
We weren’t toxic, I immediately wanted to defend. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I mean, aside from me feeling as shitty as I did now for lying to my brothers, and losing my self-confidence while I stressed over reasons why she was so resistant to committing herself to me, and drinking myself into oblivion on my birthday because I’d been so scared about losing her. And—
Holy fuck.
Had we become toxic?
Because of one secret?
Wiping a hand over my face as the men around me tried to think up reasons why Bella wouldn’t open up to Gray, I plummeted into a cold sweat.
“Maybe she realized she was into women instead of men,” Cress guessed as the waitress returned with another round of meals.
Neither Luke nor Trick rose to help her this time, eyeing each other warily as she distributed food, while Gracen shook his head, muttering, “Like I’d care about that.”
“I’m sure she’ll come around and talk to you when she’s ready,” Julian, the voice of reason, answered.
Gray nodded, though he still seemed concerned as the conversation around us moved on and the waitress finished her task. I lifted my hand before she could leave the room, and I ordered a beer.
I think I needed a drink after all.
Two hours later, I couldn’t see straight.
“Hey, you okay?” Beau asked, grabbing my arm to steady me when we all stood to go home and I immediately tripped over my damn chair. Which I probably would’ve done if I’d been sober.
Stupid chair.
“I’m fine,” I slurred, brushing his hand away, except I missed my aim.
“Yeah, no. No, you’re not,” he told me, his voice amused before he called, “Hey, can someone take Fox home? His place is out of my way.”
“His place is more out of my way than yours,” Luke called, disclaiming all responsibility.
“I gotta stop by the store and pick up some ice cream and pickles,” Dominic answered with a wince. “Apparently, Skylar’s having cravings.”
Eww.
Stomach gurgling over the idea of mixing ice cream with pickles, I groaned and shook my head before slapping a hand over my gut. Or maybe there was just too much alcohol sloshing around in there.
“Dude, he ain’t riding with me,” Trick announced. “Looks like he’s going to hurl any moment.”
Another handful of rejections were quickly tossed in after that before a reluctant voice answered, “Dammit, I guess I can take him. His place is on my way.”
Recognizing the speaker, I winced.
No, I wanted to whine. Anyone but—
A heavy hand slapped down on my shoulder. “Looks like you’re with me, Parker. Spew on my leather seats and you pay for the detailing.”
Great. This was just great.
