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Clint: Not cool.
Alex: You’re okay?
Me: Yes. I’m with your bestie right now, steering clear of Clint.
Alex: With Scout?
Me: Yes. Are you guys good?
Alex: I think so. What he did today said a lot. He’s on our side, and he feels bad at his part. Are you okay being with him? That’s weird af, Rams.
Me: I know. I needed to get out of school and get away. Do me a favor? Make sure Trenton goes to his game and doesn’t do something stupid with Clint? I know he’s in the mood.
Alex: Yeah. I’m already working on both of them. Not sure about Clint, but Trenton is starting to see reason.
Alex: It’s weird that you’re with Scout. We all saw how you both were in the locker room. Is there something going on between you two?
Me: No. Just . . . he’s brutally honest, and right now I need that around me. The Max stuff makes me have trust issues with people.
Alex: Kinda feel you’re lying to me, but Gem’s worked up about you. Are you not responding to her texts?
Her texts? I checked my phone, and saw thirty-eight of them.
I cursed, but went back to Alex’s number.
Me: I’ll text her now. If you see her, can you cover for me?
Alex: Yeah, but for real, is something going on between you and Scout? He’s my best friend.
Me: Nothing is going on. I mean it.
Alex: If you’re lying to me, that’s not cool. You’re in his truck. Scout does not befriend girls unless he wants to fuck them. I know him. I know this.
Shit, shit, shit.
Me: I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.
Clint: What the fuck is going on? Alex just took off and said he’s texting you.
I cursed, and Scout glanced my way.
“What’s going on?”
I ignored his question.
Me: Alex, don’t go down this rabbit hole. Please. I can’t handle it.
Alex: He hurts you, and I’m going to have to fuck him up. I’m sending him texts too. You and him, fuck no. I’m telling my brothers.
“No!” I jerked forward, hitting the call button until Alex answered. “Don’t say anything!”
“Put him on the phone.”
“Alex—”
“He’s not answering his phone, so you put him on your phone instead.”
“Alex, come on.”
“Hit speaker, now!”
My head fell back against the headrest, but I hit the speaker button.
“Scout!” Alex barked.
He cursed. “What?”
“Do not fuck my cousin.”
There was a slight pause before, “Are you kidding me?”
“I know you. I know my cousin. My guess is that both of you have been aware of this from day one. Am I right?”
I sighed. “You’re making this really uncomfortable.”
“I don’t care. I’m not saying this just to Scout. I’m saying this to both of you because I know you, Ramsay. You do what you want to do, but don’t do this. He’s my friend. You’ve just been through the wringer. I—if he hurts you. If you hurt her, Scout!”
“Jesus.” Scout plucked the phone from my hand and brought it to his mouth, speaking into it as he continued driving. He didn’t look my way. “She’s been through hell today. She was taking off, and she couldn’t get to her bike. She and I have a weird thing going on. I enjoy pissing her off, and she likes it. It takes her mind off her normal shit going on. Relax, bro. We’re going to my house until I have to go to training.”
Well, when he put it like that . . . Alex had to be rethinking things now, but he wasn’t wrong.
“Oh.”
“I’m not going to fuck her at my house. You don’t have to worry.”
I locked eyes with Scout as we got to the top of the hill and he turned into the very last driveway. He was lying to my cousin. Or was he? He seemed angry now, so maybe not.
“Bring her back when she wants to come back,” Alex said.
“On it.” He ended the call, tossing my phone back to me. “Was that necessary?”
I flushed, anger flaring bright in me. “You’re blaming me? For my cousin knowing us? Are you jerking me around now?”
“I wasn’t jerking him around.”
We pulled up to a seriously nice house. It looked like three stories with brick all over. I was speechless as he parked and turned the engine off.
“I like your cousin, but I thought they’d be cool with a casual arrangement,” he said. “Learning you all are fond of emotions and shit, that’s annoying. Not touching you now.” He got out on his side of the truck, and I got out on mine.
He stalked off, going inside the now-opened garage.
He was right. Riling up the other person just made them hotter.
This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
When I got to his garage, he had his shirt off and was wrapping his hands. A punching bag hung in the middle with a mat spread out on the floor. He’d kicked off his shoes. He nodded to me, chucking the roll of tape my way. “Get comfortable and wrap your knuckles. Wrap your whole hand, and go around your fingers and thumb. I’ll be right back.”
