Page 45 of Don't Say You're Sorry

Beside me, Xavi’s looking up at Adam, leaning back against Nate’s chest with his lip caught between his teeth. Adam looks mortified. I start to feel bad for him, but then Xavi jogs away from us and jumps up onto Adam’s podium, ducking under the barrier and taking my boy’s naked waist in his hands. A few people cheer. Nate and I tense. Adam widens his eyes at me over Xavi’s head, unsure where to put his hands as Xavi starts dancing right against his body. He’s shouting something at him, his palms drifting down lower as he shows him how to roll his hips.

Nate takes a step, and I grab his shoulder. “Give him a minute.”

“He’s got ten fucking seconds.”

I chuckle and fist his shirt, holding it like a leash.

Adam’s smiling. He’s a fast learner. With his hands up near his head, he closes his eyes and lets his body do the work for him, not missing a fucking beat. Just like that. Xavi grins at him, proud and smug as fuck as he shakes his little ass at us.

I release my grip on Nate. “Go.”

Nate moves toward them, grabbing Xavi’s waist and tossing him over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” I ask as he passes me.

“Bathroom.”

I laugh and turn back to Adam. He’s laughing too as he watches his new friend get carried through the club. As he carries on dancing on his own, he won’t look at me for some reason. I can’t tell whether it’s due to nerves or defiance, but Iwant to find out, so I stare at his face until he caves, knowing he can feel me.

Come on, baby. Let me see you.

As if his mind is programmed to obey me, his eyes snap to mine, and a wicked grin touches my lips.Defiant little bastard.

He grins right back, tipping his head back and spreading his arms out, loving all the attention he’s getting. It’s an act, but he’s damn good at playing it.

I glance around at all the people watching him, gravitating toward him, damn near salivating for a piece of something they’ll never have.

I nod to myself, never leaving his side. “All right, little brother,” I say under my breath. “You win this round.”

Almost an hour after the club closes, I’m standing beside Adam’s car, waiting for his shift to end. Nate and Xavi went home after their trip to the bathroom, and Carter and Frankie left soon after. They offered to stay with me when they realized I was waiting for Adam, but I waved them off. I want to spend some time with Adam on my own.

Glancing at the time again, I tap my phone on my palm, hesitant to call him to make sure everything’s okay. I haven’t called him in so long. Not since the night my ex-girlfriend Lauren burned my shit and kicked me out last year. I called him minutes after she broke up with me. I must have called him hundreds of times before that too, but he never picked up and never answered any of my text messages. Not once. The asshole didn’t even have the decency to block my number. He just…ignored me. For two and a half years.

Working my jaw, I squash my stupid fears and insecurities and hit call on his number, pressing the phone to my ear. As I listen to it ring, and ring, and ring, all the memories come rushing back. The dark, hollow pit in my chest. The misery. The anger. Me, abandoned and seething and begging his voicemail to answer the fucking?—

“Hey. You waited for me.”

My head snaps up at the sound of his voice. I swallow, the phone still pressed to my ear as I stand ten feet away from the boy who took my heart and ran away with it.

I hold my phone up to show him. “I’m calling you.”

He cocks his head, confused. “No, you’re not.” He waves his phone at me, showing me the screensaver. It’s a picture of me and him. A selfie we took on the beach one summer.

My brows crash into a frown, my gaze flickering between my phone and his.

What the fuck?

“Did you forget my number?” he tries to joke, but it falls flat, the small smile on his face faltering at whatever look is on mine.

I blink it away. “Yeah,” I lie. “I must have typed it wrong. Can I see your phone?”

He hands it over. Hanging up on whoever it is I’m calling, I unlock his phone using the same passcode he’s had forever, go to his contacts, and grit my teeth behind my lips.

My heart pounds hard and fast as I store his number in my phone correctly. Once I’m done, I hand his back and walk away.

“E?”

“Not now, Adam. I’ll see you back at the house.”