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He thanks the old man for helping, dismissing him as he bends down to scrape up the remaining mess with me.
My mouth is dry, and words just aren't coming out. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I don't know what he heard. I'm just focused on the fucking fries, thankful I have something to do with my hands.
When we silently finish, Lake takes the pile of ketchup-soaked napkins and dirty hotdogs to the trash for me. I peer over at Colin again and see them out of the stands now, approaching us. My anxiety floods me and my eyes dart wildly around the facility, knowing if Eric comes back, I'll need to grab Colin and jet. Lake comes back from the garbage can with some new napkins, handing a few of them to me.
I take them with jittery hands, forcing a quick grin. “Thanks for helping. I'll see you—”
“Was that your boyfriend?” he interrupts my dismissal.
Of course he does. He's not going to let me run out of here without an explanation. That would be in a world too easy. My world is never easy.
“No. God, no.” I cringe, looking over my shoulder nervously and back. “My ex.” I frown at that. Even being my ex is a luxury Eric doesn’t deserve. “Seriously though, you didn't have to—”
“Is that the guy that gave you the black eye?” he asks with nostrils flaring, interrupting me yet again as he looks down at his hands to wipe the last of the ketchup off his fingers as if he's about to put them to use.
His tone is thick and gravelly. He's angry, I can tell. Eric is a tool. A piece of shit tool. But he never once hit me. I don't want Lake thinking I'd stand for that kind of abuse. I wouldn't. He's actually never touched me until today, and if my hands weren't full of the food I can barely afford, I'd have given him the bloody nose he deserves.
“Nope! That was me!” Colin chimes out behind me.
I close my eyes tightly, anxiety coursing through my body. From head to toe, I feel it buzz through my veins, swirling so much that I feel physically ill. My little worlds of work, home life, and sex that I've tried to keep separated are crashing in on themselves in the worst possible way.
“You gave Pickle a black eye?” Samson asks him.
Colin's pink lips twist into a frown as he looks at Samson, nodding. The last thing I need is Colin feeling bad about something he couldn’t control.
“What?” Lake takes a step forward, his eyes hardening on Colin behind me, and the need to clear the air has never been more present.
I take a step between them, placing my palms on Lake's heaving chest beneath his black-and-white striped shirt.
It's a referee's shirt.
He was reffing the games?
Peering up at him, I see his handsome face plastered on a large sign behind him, reading:Special Guest Lake Decker!
Of course. Had it not been for Eric and my need to keep my eyes on the floor, I would've known that he was here this whole time. Actually, now that I think about it, that's probably why the guys were so excited. They knew he was here. Saw him coming.
My fingers graze the whistle hanging from his powerful neck, resting in the deep-set groove that separates his muscular pecs. The urge to pull him to my lips with it comes over me until I realize he's currently contemplating knocking my brother out.
“Lake…” I sigh, and he turns his attention to me. His face immediately softens when he realizes my hands are on his chest. I swallow what feels like a golf ball. “Lake, this is...my brother, Colin.”
Lake's eyebrows lower even more, and his eyes travel from me to my brother behind me and back, confusion all over his handsome features.
“Your brother?” he asks softly.
I take a much needed breath and nod with my hands still on his chest as if he's the only thing keeping me standing right now. He stares at me for a second before his brows pinch together again, the crease between them deepening as his eyes narrow even more.
“What about the thong?”
“What?!” I shriek in horror. “What thong?!”
“Thong?!” Colin says loudly behind me, and I cringe.
“In your purse...the black lace thong. It fell out onto the floor at the gym.” His face hardens before he whisper-yells, “Are you still sleeping with that prick?”
I drop my head forward, wanting to hide in these mountains of muscle and never return to see the light of day again. I'll happily die on my climb up the snow-covered hills, allowing the avalanche to bury my existence.
“I did that.” Colin's voice rings out proudly. “Thongs are disgusting. Bacteria trapping strips. Unhealthy. Really unhealthy.”
