It’s one reason I never wanted to come here. I hate the fact there are two professional teams in Chicago, but I don’t hate the rivalry. Especially during the Crosstown Classic.
Easton scowls at me and leans his head on the headrest of his seat, staring out the window. “It wasn’t that bad last night.”
A laugh barrels out of Decker. “Yeah, it was. That swagger did not win you brownie points. I hope you never want to be traded to the Trojans.”
“Like I would.” Easton scowls, but I’ve never seen his face so red, so whatever did happen must’ve been bad. Then his attention shifts to me, and there’s a gleam in his eye like he’s about to push me in front of the bus we’re currently on. “But we have more important news to share this morning. Why don’t you tell us what you did last night, Reap?” Easton’s eyebrows lift in my direction.
Fuck. Callie and I left the condo this morning to grab breakfast, and I saw Easton and Decker climbing into an Uber. I’d hoped they hadn’t seen us, but I guess I was wrong.
“Did you have a woman stay at your place last night?” Hayes asks, his grin so wide he assumes I have a funny story to share.
“Yeah, he did,” Easton says.
I cut him a look to tell him to mind his own fucking business, but who am I kidding? He wants the heat off of him.
“Is there a Miss Chicago?” Hayes asks, his eyebrows waggling.
I crack my neck a few times to think about how to approach this. Callie isn’t like the women I keep on reserve in each city, so she’s definitely not Miss Chicago.
“Oh shit.” Easton elbows Decker.
My brother only gives me a disapproving look as though he’s my fucking father—although our dad wouldn’t have given one shit about me fucking my best friend’s little sister.
“This is going to be so much better than my story,” Hayes says.
“No, it’s not,” Decker says.
“Do I know her?” Hayes interrupts.
“Actually, you do.” Easton has a shit-eating grin.
There was a time when I was younger that I would’ve jumped over and pinned him to the side of the bus.
Hayes looks confused, and I know I just need to force out the words. I never want him to think he’s the butt of the joke.
“Just listen to me first,” I say.
Hayes glances at Decker, so I swivel my body so my back is facing them.
“No fair,” Easton complains.
“It was Callie.” I put up my hand to stop Hayes’s reaction, but the fact that his smile falls immediately tells me how he feels about the idea of the two of us together. “We found her landlord in her apartment dressed in her bra and panties. She couldn’t stay there, so I offered her my spare room.”
“You what?” Decker interrupts, and I flip him off over my shoulder.
Hayes’s eyes narrow. “You were at her place?”
Shit, we never talked about why we would say I was with her. I should’ve had answers ready for all this, but I know the right one isn’t telling him that we were at the doctor’s office to make sure everything is okay with the baby I impregnated his sister with. At least not here. Not now.
“I ran into her.” And now I’m stacking lies on top of lies. “And walked her back to her place. When she opened her door, her landlord?—”
“That fucking Jerry guy, right? I told her he was weird.” Hayes doesn’t harp on any of the other details, and I breathe a little easier. “So, you offered her your place?”
I nod. “I didn’t want her staying there. She said she’d change the locks and stuff, but still?—”
He shakes his head. “Yeah, man, for sure. Thanks. She can stay with Leighton and me if she wants. I’m sure they’ll talk about it while we’re away. But thanks, it means a lot that you would look out for her like that.”
Guilt hits me hard and swift like a baseball bat to the face. He’s thanking me for being a decent guy, and I’ve been anything but.
