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Shit, was he slurring that much? Must be he was so tired he was mishearing things.
“That was obvious,” Wade said drily, urging him along until they reached his truck. opened the back door and gave Colt a light push. “You’re sleeping it off at our place. In you go.”
Colt went, because the long backseat looked mighty inviting. Wade had recently traded in his beloved pickup for an SUV, and it still had the new car smell.
Had to be the car that smelled that good, because he was pretty sure whiskey was leaking out of his pores.
He sprawled across the seat and tilted his head as he noticed Char already sitting in the front seat. “Well, hiya, ex-wife.”
She sighed without turning around. “What did you do now, Colt?”
Wade got in the driver’s side and started the truck. “I told Lorelie I’d drop you by here to get your truck tomorrow.” He rested his arm on the back of the passenger seat and started to reverse.
“Uh-uh. That’s how I got in trouble at the wedding.” Colt reached for the door handle. “Gotta leave in my own car.”
Wade slammed on the brakes and Colt’s stomach lurched. Yeah, maybe he’d had a bit too much. It sure had tasted good going down, though.
“You’re not driving, so plant your ass.”
Colt slumped against the seat. He really didn’t have the energy to argue. Earlier, he’d been full of it and spoiling for a fight when he’d chased after Drake and Paige. Then Drake had acted like they didn’t need Colt to accompany them on the trip to get Dandelion, didn’t want him there, and the fury inside him—at himself mostly—had drained away, replaced by hurt.
The capper had been Paige telling him to be safe. Her big blue eyes had been so sad.
Sadness he’d put there.
“I’m an asshole,” he said miserably, tipping his head back against the seat.
One thing about Wade and Char? They didn’t believe in false sympathy. Neither of them said a damn thing to reassure him.
Maybe he deserved that too.
“You’re not the only one,” Char said a few minutes later. Colt had been halfway asleep, but the sound of her voice made him jerk back awake. “I said some pretty awful things to Paige, and I love her like a sister.”
“What’d you say?” Colt tried to sit up straighter. His muscles felt as if they’d been constructed of taffy. “What’d you say to my Paige?”
Even half delirious, Colt saw the look Wade and Char exchanged. It was a very married look, as though they were sharing the same thoughts about Colt’s idiocy.
They’d probably done that while single too.
“Your Paige, huh?” Wade asked, flicking a glance at the rearview mirror. “Does that mean you’re serious about her?”
“I am. I was. I am,” he corrected. “But she dumped me before I could dump her. Or no, that’s not what happened.” He rubbed his forehead. A headache was brewing behind his eyes. “Drake dumped me for both of them, though I’d put the idea out there first. But still, I thought everyone in—involved had to dump you? It’s not like a committee thing.” He frowned. “Is it?”
“Not having been in that particular situation, I can’t really say,” Wade said.
“Why were you going to dump her if you were serious about her?” Char asked.
“Because I had sex with Drake.”
It wasn’t until they both made some sort of choked noise that Colt realized what he’d said. Damn drunk lips. They didn’t keep anything inside.
So much for keeping things a secret.
Wade cleared his throat. “You mean with Paige.” He glanced at Char and said in a low voice, “Sorry.”
Sorry. They were all sorry they had to deal with his bullshit. Drunken revelry and threesomes and scandal in every direction.
Yeah, well, too bad. He’d been feeling ashamed about being less than he’d once been for far too long. His high school glory days were in the past. The NFL ones weren’t worth mentioning. His marriage was done and buried.
