CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Zane
The hum of the crowd surrounds us at the bar as the drinks flow and happiness consumes my teammates. Another win, another step closer to the Super Bowl.
I’m as happy as the rest of them, but every time Luke wanders over to talk to me, I hold my breath, waiting for him to question me about why I ran off. Or to tell me I owe him for stepping in with Thomas.
To my relief, he never once brings it up, opting to talk about the game or whatever’s going on in his own life. Typical of Luke.
Though I don’t miss the knowing smiles he shoots my way when my gaze flits to the door. Or my phone. As though Blair’s about to walk in off the street, or miraculously unblock my number after our emotionally charged exchange.
“Even Wilder had a smile on his face,” Luke continues on and I laugh, welcoming the distraction from my roving thoughts.
He’s not wrong. Even I’ve noticed the grumpy asshole is significantly less grumpy since he hooked up with our team owner’s daughter. Maybe I did do him a favor after all.
Luke’s play by play retelling rolls on and on, and while I’d usually imagine myself banging my head against a brick wall, I smile.
I was at the game. I played. I know what happened. But Luke knows that, and I have a feeling he’s trying to help.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and even though I know it’s not her—it’s likely to be Cade—I face the inevitable, excusing myself for a minute with the promise to return.
CADE: Just tell me if you saw her, fucker. She said she’s okay but something frazzled her enough to send a half-typed message
My shoulders drop as I let out a sigh. He’s been texting me for the past few hours, concerned for Blair. But he doesn’t need to be because his panic over her text is unwarranted. I watched her press send when I appeared. I’m the reason she did it. Not that I’m going to admit that.
ZANE: I think you’re reading too much into this
CADE: Answer the question
ZANE: No, I didn’t see her. But while we’re on the topic of your sister. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about Morgan?
My phone rings and I curse out loud, pushing through the crowd toward the exit. “A message would have sufficed, Caden.” My jaw clenches as I reach the street, scanning the area for somewhere quiet to talk.
“I told you not to Caden me. And it wouldn’t have sufficed, because I wanted to hear your voice when you responded to what I have to say.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I duck into the doorway of a closed tech store and sink back against the glass.
“It means that I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want your jealous ass to go after her.”
“The fuck? I thought you wanted us to talk? Why would I be jealous?”
“I wish I’d video called you so you could see my face right now. Want me to describe it?” I picture him staring at me with a “do you think I’m stupid” look and I laugh.
“Nope. I get it. But you’re wrong. I’m not jealous. I’m worried. As should you be. Is she safe with him?” My thoughts flicker to one of the many fucked-up things Nathan did when we were younger, and my stomach knots as I wait for Cade’s response.
He huffs and I hold my breath until he finally responds. “She’s safe. I’ve been keeping an eye on things. He seems to have changed. They’ve been together for years. Four, I think.”
“Four?” That stings. Four years is serious. And she moved states for him. I guess I should be happy she’s happy. Only… “Is she happy?”
Cade’s quiet for a beat and I’m about to repeat the question when he curses softly. “She says she is.”
Fuck. “She says a lot of things she doesn’t mean.”
“I know.”
Double fuck. I groan, letting out an audible sigh as I stand tall.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, a big part of me hoping he says “nothing” while a little part of me wants him to tell me to break them up.
Because that’s what I want to do. I’m just not sure I’d be doing it for the right reasons.
In fact, I know I wouldn’t be.
But if she’s not happy—
Cade beats me in the sigh department, letting out the mother of all sighs, and I’m about to tell him he’s being dramatic when an angel walks into my line of sight. A drunk angel who’s using her friend to support her weight. Shit.
“I’ve got to go.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m out celebrating my win and my teammates are staring at me through the window,” I lie. “They’re wondering why I’m being such an antisocial asshole.”
“I can appreciate that. Can we talk tomorrow?”
My head falls back and I clench my fist before I answer. Why? Why am I letting myself be pulled back into that world? I left for a reason and I should have stayed gone.
“Zane?” he asks, his tone pleading.
“Yep. Sure. Let’s talk tomorrow. Bye.”
I hang up before he can say anything else and take off across the road, not bothering to look for traffic until some fucker honks at me. “You’re fine. You had plenty of room,” I yell back, rolling my eyes as I reach the sidewalk, coming face-to-face with Blair.
Actually, face to foot is a better description—her face to my foot—as she vomits all over my shoes.
Jesus. She’s blind drunk.
Blair groans without looking and my stomach knots. “Please tell me he’s not hot,” she asks her friend, and as her friend giggles, I allow myself to relax. A little.
“I hate to say it, babe, but he’s fucking gorgeous.” Her friend eyes me slowly as her grip on Blair loosens and I chuckle softly, securing my hands on Blair’s waist, helping her straighten.
“You okay there, B?”
Blair’s eyes snap to mine and her face scrunches. “Motherfucker.”
“Told you.” Her friend laughs, misunderstanding Blair’s reaction.
Being the nice guy that I am, I bite back my amusement, hitting her with an innocent smile. “What would it matter if I was hot, B? You have a boyfriend.”
“Wait.” Her friend’s eyes widen as she completely lets go of Blair, forcing me to tighten my hold. “You two know each other?”
I readjust my grip until I have Blair tucked into my side. “We do,” I admit, surprised Blair’s letting me hold her.
“How?”
Blair groans again and a little of my joy shines through.
“Want me to fill her in? Or…” I trail off, squeezing her waist as she huffs, stepping out of my grasp—or rather stumbling out of my grasp. I move to grab her again, but she waves me off, holding a light pole for support.
“This is Zane. The guy—”
“Noooo.” Her friend’s eyes flash to Blair before settling back on me. “Are you kidding me with this?” Her lips part, and she shakes her head. “We were just—”
“Leaving,” Blair finishes for her. “We were just leaving.”
That’s not what her friend was about to say, but I let it slide. “Leaving so you could puke?”
“No,” Blair denies at the same time her friend says, “Pretty much.”
Holding back my amusement, I glance around the busy street and frown. “How are you planning to get home?” Fuck, home? The thought of her going back to a place she shares with Nathan makes a shiver run down my spine.
“Don’t worry, we don’t need your help. You don’t have to look so disgusted.”
“Disgusted? What—” Oh. Yep, I’m disgusted, but not for the reason she thinks. “I’m not worried, but I am going to help. Where is home? And speaking of home… Where’s your goddamn boyfriend?”
“He’s at the strippers.” Her friend answers before Blair can speak, and Blair covers her mouth with her hand.
“He’s not. I mean, I don’t know. Jenna’s making assumptions.”
Ahh, she has a name. “Nice to meet you, Jenna.”
Jenna’s wide smile is visible behind Blair’s hand, and I’m going to guess she pokes her tongue out because Blair recoils quickly, embarrassment tinging her expression. “Ew, Jen.”
“Sorry.” She giggles. “Nice to meet you too, Zane. I’ve heard”—Blair shoots her a glare and she nods—“nothing about you,” she finishes.
“Nothing at all. But tell me. If you were a football player. Hypothetically. And you were in your hypothetical hometown of say, San Francisco, and your girlfriend was watching your game—”
“Jenna. Stop. Please.”
“What? It’s just hypothetical.”
“Nathan went out to drown his sorrows with the guys and Jenna thinks he’s at a strip club.”
“Would it matter if he was?” I ask with a frown, genuinely curious. “I’m assuming you trust him since you’ve been together for four years.”
Jesus, did my voice just rise? I need to get my shit together.
Blair flinches. “Ouch. I see you’ve been talking to Cade. How long did you wait before you called him?”
“He called me.” I point to my chest. “He was worried when you sent him half a text and then proceeded to ignore his calls. Tell me, why is that? Why would he be worried knowing you were likely to be with your man?”
I feel Jenna’s gaze bouncing between us but I hold my stare, challenging Blair to answer.
“He doesn’t trust Nathan,” she snaps. “The same way I’m sure you don’t. But I do.” She points to her chest just like I did. “And you’re right. If he’s at a strip club, what does it matter? He’s coming home to me.”
I slam my eyes shut and suppress a shudder. I don’t need that visual.
“Do you two hate or love each other?” Jenna questions and I stifle a snort, deciding on the spot that I like her.
“Neither,” Blair responds for both of us. “We’re neutral.”
“Okay. Thanks. I just needed to get my head around it, because honestly… Tension, meet knife.”
A laugh bursts out of me and this time Blair aims her glare my way. “Careful, B. You’re not acting very neutral right now. You look like you want to kill me.”
“Kill, no. Punch, maybe.”
“She loves me,” I say to Jenna and she laughs so loud it draws a bout of unwanted attention—namely, the chick with the phone aimed our way.
Blair opens her mouth to comment, but I get in first. “I think we should take this off the street. My hotel is only a block down the road and—”
“I am not going to your hotel room, Zane.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that. It has a lobby, with couches.”
“Ooh, I love the sound of couches.” Jenna moans blissfully. “And my apartment is so far away.” Holding her palms together, she turns to Blair and begs, “Please, Blair. These boots were not made for walking…or standing around.”
“Ugh. Fine. It would be nice to wash my mouth out.”
“Can you clean my shoes while you’re at it?” I raise a brow in humor.
“Nope. That’s on you. Don’t stand in front of a woman who’s about to…” She waves her hand around.
“Puke?” I ask.
“Yes, but I was going to use a better term.”
“Oh, babe.” Jenna pats her arm. “For what you did, there isn’t one.”
Blair’s the one to laugh loudly this time, and in the process, she stumbles until I steady her again.
“I’m fine.” She shakes me off. “Where’s your hotel?”
She’s not fine. But I’m smart enough to know she’s not going to let me help her. No matter how badly I want to. Instead, I resort to casual humor to hide my concern. “This way, ladies.”
I hit them both with a cheesy grin and Blair fake gags. “How many times have you said that in reference to your hotel?”
“Said what?” I know exactly what she’s referring to, but I want to see the jealousy in her eyes.
“This way, ladies,” she mocks, attempting my voice as she rolls her eyes.
“Once or twice,” I lie. “But never in LA.”
Jenna’s lips quirk into a grin while Blair’s eyes flare with a jealous rage she disguises as disgust.
And a spark ignites inside me.
Does she still want me? Can I still elicit the soft little mewls I once could by running my finger along the nape of her neck?
Her lips part as though she’s imagining the same thing and I’ve got my answer. Yes. Even with the fucker around. A stupid happiness takes over me, but I don’t let it get too far. Not yet.
“Come on.” I gesture in the direction of the hotel. “There are too many eyes here.” I reach for Blair’s hand, but she snaps it back before curling her arm through Jenna’s.
“Let’s go,” she says and I snort out a laugh.
“Great. The blind leading the blind.” What have I gotten myself into?