"Every morning?" I protest. "But I have class."
"So? So do we. And I know your residence hall is only two blocks away."
"How did you—"
"And we get up pretty early, believe it or not. We're athletes—got to stay disciplined," Dax adds. "But not on the weekends. On the weekends, Elias and I are hungover and won't get up at all. So, just Monday through Friday should be fine."
"How early?"
"If you're here by seven-fifteen, that should work out," he says. "Nolan usually starts his running-slash-gym routine at eight, which you fucked up for him today and probably sent his entire equilibrium into a tailspin that'll last at least forty-eight hours so…you should apologize to him for that, too."
"But—"
"No fucking buts, Saige," Elias scolds. "I told you that. You agreed to this; don't make me take it back…or make it worse."
"And that wasn't rhetorical, by the way," Dax adds through a mouthful of eggs. "You actually need to apologize to Nolan."
I shrug, rolling my eyes before his own harden. Dax is the only one who has been even a little on my side, even if he did force his dick into my mouth last night. I know he can be almost as bad as Elias if he wants to, and I don't want to give him a reason to.
"I'm sorry for disrupting your equilibrium, Nolan."
"That sounded a little disingenuous," Elias says. "Do you want her to try again, Nolan? I can make her do it on her knees."
My cheeks burn, holding my breath while I wait for his response.
Nolan shrugs, answering without looking up. "Nah, I'll accept it. This time."
Hiding my relief, I turn back to the kitchen and begin loading the dishwasher. Nolan is the only one who cleans his own plate, and then he and Elias leave.
While Dax lounges in a recliner staring at his phone, I head upstairs with a couple of garbage bags to clean his bedroom, which sustained the least amount of damage. I finish about an hour later, carrying down the destroyed canvas last.
"Do you know how long it takes to create something like that?" he asks as I pass.
I sigh. "I don't know, Dax. I'm not the one who did it. I'm really tired."
I step out into the garage, discarded the broken canvas in the overflowing bin, and then back into the house. "Can I leave now?"
"Are you finished?"
"Yeah. But I don't know what to do about Nolan's carpet."
"Hmm, okay. I need to get someone out here to fix the drywall. I'll call someone to come take care of the carpet, too—before Elias gets back. It'll be our secret." He winks at me like he's doing me this huge favor, but I'm too exhausted and emotionally drained to fake gratitude. "I need your phone number before you go."
I rattle off my phone number, and then another switch flips. All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of here and go to bed, but now that it's about to happen, I think of the after.
What do I do now…with all of this?
"Dax?"
"Hmm?"
"How are we going to get away with this? People saw me with him, and then there's his phone—"
"Saige, no one saw him at that party. It was dark, he was alone, and quite frankly, he was too fucking old to be there."
"Still, they're going to look for him."
"Don't worry about it," he says casually. "We'll take care of it."
