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“Fox, I’m sorry, man,” he grumbled. “I didn’t know-”
Ignoring my best friend, I made my way to the guest room and grabbed my phone. Pulling up my social media feed, I saw that there were a million notifications with comments about the pictures. I scrolled through the timeline, and it was all social media garbage, but it was clear that a lot of people had jumped to the first wrong conclusion about last night.
Scrolling down on the comments about Brit catching a fox, I saw some people didn’t believe her, but that was to be expected. There were haters everywhere. However, one particular hater had my undying devotion when I read her comment. She’d written that Brit was lying because she had shared the Uber with us.
Had she?
When my mind started trying to pull all the pieces together from last night, I vaguely recall some girl jumping in our Uber at the last minute. She’d been a brunette, I think, and if my mind was recalling it correctly, she’d gotten into an argument with her drunk boyfriend and had wanted out of there.
Shaking my head of the murky memories, I noticed that there wasn’t a reply regarding the girl’s accounts of last night, so I added my own.
FoxHarrington: I swear 2 God, if my gf thinks I cheated on her, there’ll b no saving u!
Checking the rest of my phone, I didn’t see any texts from the guys or even the girls. Since I’d been tagged on the pictures, they were visible on my timeline, and even if the guys understood, I expected some hateful shit from the girls. After all, they’ve all become pretty tight, so I could see them having Kincaid’s back. However, there was nothing. Not even from Saxton.
Even though my hangover was killing me, I had bigger problems. Pushing aside all the hate that I had spewed yesterday about never wanting to see Kincaid again, I dialed her number and prayed that she wouldn’t hold my anger against me and pick up.
It rang until her voicemail picked up, so I called her again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
When she didn’t answer on the fifth attempted, I tried Saxton. When he didn’t answer, I called Hastings. Thankfully we had all exchanged numbers when all that shit with August was going down.
She answered. “Hey.” She didn’t sound happy to hear from me, but she wasn’t cussing me out and hanging up on me, so I’d take it.
“Hey, I’m trying to get in touch with Kincaid or Saxton,” I said as calmly as I could. “Do you know where they’re at?”
Hastings was quiet for a bit, and that said it all. They all knew, and it’d be a miracle if I got any help from any of them. My parting words had added credit to the pictures, and I was man enough to admit this entire thing was my fault.
“Hastings, c’mon,” I practically begged.
“They’re…uh, handling some stuff,” she finally said. “Stuff that has to do with her brother.”
Not that it mattered, but I needed to tell someone the truth. “I didn’t hook up with that girl, Hastings,” I told her. “I would never do something so…hurtful.”
“It’s not my business, Fox,” she replied. “Besides, Kincaid said it was okay. She’s fine with it.”
Of course, she was.
“Well, that’s just great for Kincaid, I suppose,” I bit out. “Thanks, Hastings.”
I hung up before I could fuck things up more than I already have.
