Eli’s eyes sear into me. “Not fucking here,” he says as he punches the up button on the elevator.
Unlucky for me, the elevator door opens immediately, and he moves me inside. When the door closes, he asks, “What the fuck are you doing? Blakely said she’s been trying to call you all night, and you haven’t answered. She texted Penny, and Penny texted me. When I saw you weren’t in your room, I came downstairs to find you in the bar. So explain to me what the hell is going on.”
I push my hand through my hair and lean against the wall. “Nothing,” I say.
“Bullshit. You don’t drink before games. So what happened?”
“I said nothing.” The elevator door opens, and I stumble out, confused as to where to go.
Sighing, Eli pushes me toward the right.
“Stop fucking pushing me,” I yell.
“Keep your goddamn voice down unless you want people hearing that the center for the Vancouver Agitators is drunk off his ass.”
“Who fucking cares,” I mutter as I slam into a door that’s not mine.
“Jesus fuck,” Eli says as he grabs me by the shoulder and moves me forward, staying right behind me.
A door opens behind us, and we hear, “What’s going on?” I glance over my shoulder to see Silas pop his head out.
“I need help,” Eli says.
“One second,” Silas replies.
“Just leave me the fuck alone,” I say as I try to move away from Eli, but he doesn’t let me.
He keeps his hand on my shoulder and brings me to my room just as Silas catches up.
“What’s happening?” he asks.
“Holmes is drunk. Blakely hasn’t heard from him all night. Something’s up.”
“Nothing is up.” I push him away but he doesn’t budge.
Instead, he takes my key card from my pocket and opens my door right before pushing me in with a giant shove. I stumble in, hit the wall, and fall to the ground.
“How is that productive?” Silas asks as he leans down and helps me up.
“I didn’t mean to send him to the floor. He clearly doesn’t have good balance.”
“All the more reason not to shove him. The last thing we need is for him to roll his ankle again.”
“Right . . . sorry,” Eli says before dragging his hand over his face. “I’m exhausted and not thinking right.”
“Then let me handle this.”
Eli shakes his head. “No, I promised Blakely I’d take care of it.”
“Don’t promise Blakely anything,” I say as Silas brings me over to the bed and sits me down.
Two of my best friends stand in front of me, probably trying to figure out what to do with me. I can tell them . . . let me go back to the bar. Their presence just reminds me of all the reasons I don’t want to be in this room, near my phone.
“What happened?” Eli asks.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“And like I said earlier, bullshit.” He reaches for my phone on the nightstand and flashes the screen at my face to unlock it.
