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Pulling up to our townhouse,I'm surprised to find the light on the main floor still on.
Two scenarios play out in my head: Kai is either hammered and passed out on the couch, or he is currently banging a chick on the couch.
I take the stairs from the garage to the first floor, two steps at a time, while listening to any noise that would indicate me finding live porn being played out in my living room. When there is nothing, I push the door open and turn to head into the kitchen. I'm so ready to fall into bed and get my few hours of sleep before my alarm goes off at five thirty. I veer directly to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water to help with my beer dehydration. I've consumed more alcohol in the last few days than since high school. And all of it because of one girl I know nothing about. Turning toward the living room area to shut off the lights, I take a step and—
"WHAT THE FUCK?" I clench the plastic bottle so hard it bursts.
"Hey, stranger."
Holding the remnants of my water bottle, my hand is dripping wet, and the water meant to hydrate me is spilled all over the kitchen floor.
Regretting not staying longer at The Grizz or maybe even attempting a conversation with King, I address the last person I want to have standing in my house, let alone in front of me. "What are you doing here, Rhys?"
My former best friend takes a step toward me, and all I can think of saying is, "Don't."
I lift both hands and cover my face.
Fuck, I'm too tired for this.
A growl escapes me, and I rake my fingers over my hair, inhaling slowly through my nose as I hold Rhys's gaze. Blood pounding in my ears, my brain fires memories from every direction at me. Rhys and me at parties all through high school. Us laughing together and playing ball or practicing new wrestling moves on each other. The three of us hanging out at the McGuire house. The confusion when Rhys suddenly refused to talk to Lilly and started sleeping over. The nights we spent talking until the sun came up, laughing at some shit Jager pulled during practice. The betrayal I felt when I found out what he had kept from me for all those years. The happiness for my friends when we finally were us again, and Den was no longer enemy number one. The fear when the nightmare started and the relief when it was over. Then, the letter came. I lost my future. Rhys tried to buy my way into a prestigious private school and then lied to my face. I don't know which is worse, that he went behind my back after I told him—them—that I didn't want anything to do with that money or that he lied to me. Again. With every reminder of the past twelve-plus years, my anger reaches a new height.
I don't want to fight him. Not here in my home. Not ever again. He was my best friend once, but that's in the past.
With my hands still on top of my head, I blow out a breath. "You need to leave." I force the words out calmly, despite the inner chaos raging havoc on my already wound-up emotions, thanks to a certain blonde.
"I came to talk," Rhys mimics my controlled tone.
My jaw clenches, and I force myself to relax it enough to respond. "You need to leave."
My restraint is slipping.
"Calla misses you. We both do. We want you to be at our—"
"LEAVE!"
There goes the last bit of composure.
Rhys stares at me for a long moment before he sighs and dips his chin.
"Okay." He slowly turns and walks to the front door. As he opens it, he pauses and turns one more time.
I meet his steady gaze.
"I'm sorry, Wes. I…I made a mistake. I was selfish and tried to get rid of my guilt about you losing your scholarship by buying your education with Lilly's money."
I'm waiting for his words to have an impact on how I feel, but there is nothing. Maybe it's too late. Maybe I need more time. I have no clue.
I dip my chin in acknowledgment and swivel on my heels, heading for my bedroom without turning the house security system on. At this point, I don't care if he leaves the front door wide open.
But just as I reach my bedroom, I hear the door shutting. I fall face-first on my mattress, not bothering to take my shoes or clothes off.
CHAPTERNINE
After Grizz'smessage that Wes showed up at the bar and asked for me by name, I called in sick for three of my shifts—including closing the bar on Sunday. My boss wasn't happy, and I promised to make it up to him. He has no clue why I'm avoiding Wes, but with him not divulging anything about his life, he seems to understand not to ask.
I also didn't go to class, which bugged me more than the loss of my income. Not that anyone missed me there, or that it would have any impact, but this week, we covered a topic in Professor Steward's criminology course that I had been looking forward to for months. I was simply too chickenshit to run into Wes.
I had enough saved up to afford the few days off, but not for much longer. I needed the money in case I had to move on. Or for something important—like a fake passport. One in my position never knew.
