Page 77 of Call the Shots
“That you were wrong?”
“He said I wasn't his family. I guess he’s been saying that to me all along, I just didn’t want to hear it.”
I stared, shocked. Xavier saidthat?How could he say that to Bear? Memories surfaced, the times when Xavier complained about Bear, about how distant he was. Those memories had a pattern the longer I thought about them. Drawing away from Bear, I leaned against the dresser, arms crossed.
“Last April, were you with Xavier?” I said softly.
“April?” Bear shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “No, we were in playoffs. It was too busy.” Silence settled and his frown deepened. “Why?”
“I had a pregnancy scare but Xavier was out of town.” I crossed my arms over my chest and rubbed my forearm, remembering how petrified I was. “He couldn’t drive back because he was spending time with you.”
More silence.
“Are you—uh—sure you have your dates right?” Bear asked.
I was sure but I shrugged. “I might be wrong.”
“Because if he…” He raked a hand through his hair. “Because that’s really fucked up. If that—I…I’m sorry that happened.”
“Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know.”
Bear shoved his wallet in his pocket and stalled over his words. His eyes met mine again. “Xavier said something about how you having sex with me was like your…revenge plot or whatever against him?—”
“Yeah, it’s not my best work,” I admitted, and Bear's eyes fell to the floor. “I’m sorry you got involved in this. You were trying to protect your brother.”
“Stepbrother,” he corrected, pulling the door open. “Let’s get drunk.”
Fuck it. It’d be my first frat party since January and with the revenge plot gone to hell, I wanted to focus on pounding shots. I followed him to the living room. “Agreed.”
“I’m not leaving unless it’s in an ambulance to the fucking sobriety center.”
“That’s not funny,” I chided. “Don’t let Montoya hear that.”
“Hear what?” Montoya asked.
“Hear how safely we’ll drink alcohol tonight,” I said pointedly. “Staying hydrated, not accepting drinks from people you don’t know, andneverdrinking alone?—”
Elijah groaned. “Boring. I’m bored. You’re boring me.”
I quickly poured shots for Bear and me, but when Montoya reached for the bottle, I shook my head. “We’re pacing you, you’re sticking to the one until we get to the party.”
“When’s King coming?” Montoya asked.
That was a good question. I double-checked my phone and disappointment coursed through when I read the messages.
king
I cant go sorry june
Jazz emergency
Oh, shit.
Montoya really liked King. They spent a lot of time renovating the Colo together. This would crush him. As quickly as I could, I downed my shot, feeling it burn the back of my throat.
“King…can’t come tonight.”
Montoya’s face fell. “He’s not coming?”
