Page 32 of Go Deep (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)
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Slade
“Hey, brother, what’s shaking?” Shawn answered lightheartedly.
“It’s late, bro. What’s going on?”
“Everything’s fine. Look, I know it’s late, but you know how busy things get with me. I was just expecting to leave you a voicemail.”
Cassidy walked around to the other side of the bed and took a seat. “That’s cool. What’s up?”.
“I need a favor.”
“Yeah. What?”
“I need you to order something for Mom at her favorite antique shop downtown. I’m flying in for Thanksgiving and the place will already be closed by the time I get there. Trust me I tried to pre-order it and give them my card. These little mom and pop shops don’t go for that crap.”
“That’s no problem. So is it the one with all that vintage shit in the window?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay I know the one.”
“What are you getting her for her birthday?”
“Huh? I actually haven’t thought about that yet. Shit’s been crazy this year with school.”
“Well you might as well see what else they have.”
As I sat there thinking about this conversation, something didn’t add up. This was a strange request for Shawn to call about this late at night. Unless he suspected something was up. He and Cassidy were really close, but she would never have told him we slept together. Her roommate would have been the first to know that, so if gothic pink chick didn’t know, my little brother all the way at Harvard couldn’t know. Not for certain, anyway.
“So you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, yeah. I already told you no problem.” I turned and stared at Cassidy, sitting with her legs crossed on the bed now, staring back at me with a confused look.
“Is everything all right, man?” he asked.
“I’m good. Tired.”
“Everything going okay with football?”
“Yeah, man, everything’s fine.” I let out a fake yawn. “Dude, I uh…it’s late, man. I need to get off this phone and head back to sleep.”
“Cassidy’s there with you, isn’t she?”
“Huh? What?” He’d caught me off guard.
“I’m not dumb. Just admit it.”
“What? Of course not. You’re at Harvard. You can’t be dumb,” I said with a chuckle, trying to change the conversation.
“Look, I know you, and you’re a dog when it comes to women. Just don’t hurt her. Actually, just leave her alone. She’s not trying to get stuck down on the bayou somewhere in Podunk, Louisiana. She’s got a lot going for her, and you don’t need to screw that up, man.”
“Uh-huh. So this is why you called?”
“She’s there, isn’t she?”
I looked at her, searching her face for answers to the question I hadn’t asked:what should I tell him?She looked just as confused by my responses as my brother sounded.
