"What happened?" I cup the side of his face with my palm, and he leans into it, letting out a shaky breath.
"Monty and I got into a fight. I called him out and told him he needed to come clean to Shantel, or I will, so he clocked me in the face." He pulls away from me, but I resist the urge to let go of his hands.
They’re rougher than usual, callouses on his palms. Catching sight of them in the streetlights that shine through the gaps in our blinds, his knuckles are bruised and busted with dry blood, too.
He fought back.
"Let me get some bandages to patch you up." Kissing his knuckles, I make my way to our bathroom to rummage through the cabinets, finding the first aid kit filled with butterfly stitches and saline water. It’s everything I need to clean and patch up his wounds, while he gets comfortable on the couch, turning on the TV.
"The eagles have no further comment," are the only words I hear from the television, before the screen turns black and Austin throws the remote to the other side of the couch.
"You should see the other guy." He smirks while raising a brow, trying to make light of the situation. Even as he winces in pain while I clean off the dry blood, he still finds humor in it all.
"Someone could have seriously gotten hurt, Austin. Monty is your friend. You should have let him sort it out." My focus is on his hands, but I can see him nod in my peripherals.
"We’re not friends anymore."
"I take it nothing happened back then with the two of you?" I ask, and she pales.
"We slept together that night." Her confession turns her face beet red. It’s as if someone has written 'guilty' all over her face with red lipstick.
That explains why our sex life had been so bland for the last seven years.
"He was upset. Apparently, he got into a huge disagreement with his brother or something. He told me he just needed some company. We reconnected three years ago and I’ve fallen more in love with him every day since."
"No, Monty, sorry,Chad, is his friend. He doesn’t have a brother," I correct her, but she shakes her head.
"No, I’m positive he said brother. I haven’t met him yet, and Austin says I never will. They don’t get along." She shrugs. "Apparently, his dad had an affair years ago or something, so he and his brother have different moms, but are the same age." She takes the last sip of her coffee and slides her engagement ring off her finger.
"He doesn’t have a brother," I repeat my words, this time harsher, almost accusatory, without intending to, but she’s adamant about it.
"I’ve asked him a bunch of times why they don’t speak, but he gets really heated when I bring it up."
"You’re sure?" I need her to besure.My mind is racing with possibilities. I just need it to be quiet for even a second so I can filter through the information.
"I’m one thousand percent sure. He said he found out about him after one of his football games or something. That’s when everything changed for him." She blows her nose into a tissue.
One of his football games.
Austin hasn’t played football since high school.
Reaching for my phone, I unblock Austin’s number. I need to figure this out, stat.
Me:I’m in Cali. We need to talk.
Austin: ok.
While my body remains firmly seated in the same chair it’s been in for the last hour, my mind has taken off. Running straight back to high school, trying to recall every interaction, every gesture, every look and smile.
Before Austin asked me to prom, he barely showed any care for me as more than a friend. And now when I think about it, he was hardly ever even kind to me. He only ever talked to me when Harley or Bea were around.
But the day he asked me to prom is the day it all changed for me, for him, for Harley.
He showed me a littletoomuch attention, especially when Harley was around. He was too eager to let me know he liked me. Something changed in him back then, and now I know what it was.
Now, I hold on to information that could destroy a good man.
Agreatman.
