Page 72 of The Assist
“Think she’s still in Succulent Hill.”
“You think?” He pauses, beer resting on his lips.
“We haven’t talked much over break. Been kinda busy,” I grumble, pointing to my leg.
“Bullshit. Busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
Joel takes out his phone, and I drain half the glass in front of me, thankful for once Z is quiet.
Nathan and a few more of the guys from the team trickle in, and Joel waves them over as he puts the phone to his ear.
Tables are pushed together, and pitchers are placed in the middle so we can fit everyone.
“Blair, hey, it’s Joel.”
My ears perk up at her name, and all the blood rushes from my head to a pit in my stomach.
“What. The. Fuck?” I grit out.
“You back in town? We’re at The Hideout. Wes was just crying about how much he misses you, why don’t you come down so he’ll stop pouting.”
I grab for the phone, but he pushes back and stands, walking out of ear shot. I pull out my own phone and open my and Blair’s text history. The last thing I said to her was “Okay” in response to her asking me how I was feeling. That was two days ago. She finally got the message that I wasn’t up for idle chitchat about my wellbeing and here Joel is, meddling in my shit.
He walks back to the table, a shit-eating grin on his face. “She’s on her way. You’re welcome.”
My phone vibrates with a new text, but it’s from Mario, not Blair.
Mario: Angry chick alert. Heading your way with Vanessa and Blair. Guard your good leg, V is pissed you ghosted Blair all break.
I don’t respond before I tuck my phone away. Maybe I can act surprised when they arrive. Z is beside me, and I hide behind him a little. Call me a coward all you want, fucking Vanessa is scary.
Seeing Blair again after my less than warm behavior over the past three weeks makes something ache in my chest. She stays firmly planted to Vanessa’s side as the trio walks up to the table and says hello. Empty space at the table and chairs scattered around the place go untouched as the girls make their excuses and head to sit at the bar. It’s like she came just to make a point she didn’t want to see me. Makes zero sense, but here she is, looking hot and angry and hotter because angry looks good on her. Fuck.
“Ouch,” Z says, eyes watching Blair. “What the hell did you do to have Blair giving you the shrug off? Must’ve been something bad, it isn’t like her. Girl doesn’t know how to be cold.”
“I was an ass all break,” I admit quietly. “I haven’t been returning her texts or calls.”
“Why the fuck not?” It’s a response I’m not prepared for. Z doesn’t insert himself into relationships, and he certainly doesn’t take sides when neither side is his.
“I was dealing with shit.”
His expression tells me he thinks I’m in the wrong, but he doesn’t say any more.
More and more guys from the baseball and basketball teams join us as the night goes on. Blair doesn’t so much as glance back at the table from her spot at the bar. Vanessa, on the other hand, glares at me every chance she gets.
Mario and Clark, a freshman baseball player, stand behind the girls at the bar. Blair laughs at something Clark says. Her shoulders shake with the movement and the strap of her dress slips off one side. My eyes dart to the bare skin at the same time Clark reaches out and pushes the strap back into place.
I see red and move faster than I thought possible. I’m pushing my way between them before rational thought has a chance to intervene.
“The fuck, man,” Clark says as he catches himself on the stool next to Blair.
“Hands off if you want to keep them.”
Clark steps forward, not the least bit tempted to give my punk ass a pass even if I have a gimp leg, but Mario steps between us. “Take a walk, Sinclair.”
Clark doesn’t budge. His nostrils flare, and his hands curl into fists.
“I said take a walk.” Mario’s voice is even and calm.
