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“Good one, bro.” Jamie congratulated him on his choice of insult.
“Money talks,” Max said, his voice filled with annoyance.
I got a few answers to my unanswered questions when the police called to let us know Rinkin squealed like a little pig, hoping it would get him out of trouble. I guess technically it did. Well, that and the fact his rich parents lawyered up and moved their little criminal offspring to the other side of the country.
Since he wasn’t the one who put the drugs into my coffee, he wasn’t “guilty.” The cops could only really get him on knocking me out and being an asshole. Sadly, that doesn’t get jail time. But he was gone, and since Elite was harmonious in a way it hadn’t been before, I’d take it.
Max was salty as the ocean, though, because Rinkin revealed he and Veronica planned to put me in compromising positions and take photos to make it look like I’d slept with her. According to him, it was all Veronica’s idea and she approached him to help her knowing she wouldn’t be able to move someone of my size once I was full of drugs. It wasn’t a stretch at all that my stalker would know about the issues between me and Rinkin. Just like it wasn’t a stretch that he would take any opportunity he could to hurt me. Veronica was going to use the photos to make Max break up with me. Rinkin was going to use them to get me booted out of Elite.
They were a dream team of chilling proportions.
Maybe if they’d actually gotten the photos, Rinkin could have been charged with more, but since Max and Win showed up, their plans were thwarted. Instead, Rinkin was cut from Elite, tossed out of Westbrook, and swept to the other side of the country.
And Veronica? She was also tossed out of Westbrook, fired, and banned from Shirley’s. Her crimes were a bit heavier than Rinkin’s—stalking and drugging me—so she was spending some time in a mental health facility. I hoped it did her some good.
Either way, they were both gone. I could be mad Rinkin didn’t get more punishment, but really, he was going to spend his life being an angry, miserable dickweed, and that was punishment enough.
“I’m starving,” Jamie complained, rubbing his flat abs.
“Me too.” Win agreed.
“You didn’t even swim,” Ryan muttered.
Win scoffed. “Watching my baby bro cut through water works up an appetite.”
Max glanced at me and winked, making my stomach flip.
“What’s for dinner?” Kruger asked.
I smiled. “Tacos.”
“I could smash some tacos.” Jamie concurred.
The ringing of a phone echoed around the massive space, rising into high rafters.
“It’s me,” Win muttered, digging the phone out of his jeans to glance at the screen. Something flitted over his face, something that looked a lot like worry, before he swiped across the screen and pushed the phone to his ear. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice lacking the usual ease.
I shared a look with Max before turning back to my brother.
He was frowning as he listened, then suddenly made a gruff sound. “I’m flying back tomorrow,” he said. Then, as if he realized he had an audience, his eyes lifted to mine.
I raised my brows, quietly asking who it was, and he pursed his lips and turned away, walking out of earshot as he spoke quietly.
“Wes, haul ass outta that pool so we can eat. We’re going to change,” Jamie said, and the four of my swim bros went off to the locker room.
I nodded absentmindedly, still watching Win.
“Hey.” Max beckoned, reaching into the water to splash me.
“Who do you think that is?” I asked, glancing up at my favorite guy.
Max shrugged. “His roommate maybe? He’s called him a few times since he’s been home.”
“Lars, right?” I asked, recalling his name. Thinking of the morning Win muttered it in his sleep.
“Yeah, why?”
I shrugged. “How close do you think they are?”
