Page 29 of Don’t Say You’re Sorry (Hawthorne University #2)

“You leave him alone, or I’ll turn her against you. Simple as that.”

He shakes his head in my peripheral. “You wouldn’t do that. Not to her.”

My smile is cruel. “Watch me. I let you get away with it once. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Despite me threatening to take my dad’s wife away from him, the five of us manage to have a nice, normal— ish —dinner together. Veronica’s sitting between my dad and Axel on one side of the table, and Adam and I are sitting opposite them.

The food is amazing, but I don’t tell Axel that. He’s already a cocky bastard. He doesn’t need me feeding him compliments and inflating his ego more.

Adam not so sneakily passes me one of his roast potatoes beneath the table, just as he’s been doing since we were kids, and Veronica shakes her head at him. “You know I can see you, right?”

He smiles apologetically. I chuckle and make a show of tossing it into my mouth.

“Still with the potatoes, Adam?” my dad grumbles jokingly. “Have you even tried them as an adult? You might like them now.”

I cock my head at him. It’s the first time he’s spoken to Adam directly all day. If this is his way of waving a big white flag in my face, I’ll take it.

“I’m traumatized, okay?” Adam almost gags. “Never again.”

Axel and I crack up.

When Adam was ten, we bet he couldn’t eat an entire tray of roast potatoes.

He did it. Won his twenty bucks. And then he spent the entire night hugging the toilet.

It was almost definitely due to the stomach flu we all caught shortly after, but he insisted it was the roast potatoes. He hasn’t eaten them since.

Adam shudders at the memory, and our parents laugh a little too. It’s nice. Aside from the giant elephant in the room, it’s almost like it was before. Almost like we’re a real family again.

I can tell Veronica feels it too by the small smile on her face as she looks at her boys, myself included.

After dessert, Adam and I do the dishes.

He washes and I dry. And despite how close we are, our arms brushing from time to time, I keep my hands to myself since Axel’s decided to sit at the island behind us, his feet kicked up on the counter, beer in his hand, and watch our every move.

Cockblocking prick. He smiles at me as if he knows what I’m thinking.

I smile too, twisting the towel in my grip and getting ready to whip him with it.

He’s about to make a run for it when his mom walks into the kitchen, making us both freeze.

“Put it down,” she says to me.

I drop it on the counter.

“Adam, are you staying with Easton?” she asks, and he nods, not meeting her gaze as he scrubs an imaginary speck of food on the plate.

“Yep. I have my own room there,” he clarifies, just in case she thinks we’re sharing a room.

“I thought so.” She smiles, turning to Axel. “Axel, what about you? Want me to make up your bed?—”

“Axel’s staying with me too,” I interrupt.

Adam whips his head around, looking at me like I’ve grown two. Axel stares at me from beneath his brows, slowly shaking his head. I nod mine, and I don’t miss the way his nostrils flare slightly.

“Are you?” his mom checks with him.

“Mhm.” He stares straight ahead, and I revel in whatever thoughts are running through his head right now. He looks as if he’s planning a slow, painful death. I hope it’s mine. The look I hit him with tells him he can give it his best shot.

A little while later, as Adam’s telling our parents about his new job, Axel takes the opportunity to pull me aside.

Taking me by surprise, he drags me out of the kitchen and into the entryway where we’re out of sight and earshot.

I look at his fingers wrapped around my arm, then up at his face.

He releases me. “What do you know?” he asks.

I smirk, booping his nose. “If I told you that, it would ruin my fun.”

Easton

I need a favor.

Nate

No.

Easton

You don’t even know what it is yet.

Nate

Xavi told me you went to get your other stepbrother from London. He’s not moving in.

Easton

Why not?

Nate

I rented this place because I don’t like people, you idiot. Now I’m surrounded by them. I might as well move into the dorms. It would be quieter.

Easton

Don’t be like that. You know you love us.

Nate

Fine. But if Xavi makes one more friend in this house, I’m gonna start removing fingers. Starting with yours.

Easton

Don’t worry. Xavi’s not Axel’s type.

Nate

Xavi’s everyone’s type.

Easton

True.

Thanks! Love you!

Nate

Fuck off.

I’ll start the barbecue.

“What are you laughing at?” Adam asks.

“Nate,” I answer, putting my phone away.

Adam frowns. “What did he say?”

“He said Axel can stay with us.” Putting the car into gear, I drive away from our parents’ house and head toward home.

“No, I mean, what did he say to put that smile on your face?”

I side-eye him. “Well, first he threatened to remove my fingers. Then I told him I loved him, and he told me to fuck off.”

His jaw tics, and he turns his head, looking out the window to try to hide it.

He really is cute when he’s jealous.

He huffs, not looking at me. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Not out loud,” he mutters.

I chuckle. In the back, Axel looks between the two of us, his brows pinched slightly. “Nate Grayson? Your captain? Have you and he ever?—”

“No,” I cut in, bristling at his sudden interest in Nate. “And neither will you,” I warn. “Nate and Xavi are solid. Endgame. If you do anything to try to fuck with that, I’ll make you regret it.”

He lifts his hands. “Hey, I’m not looking to break up any marriages. That’s not my thing.”

I raise a brow at him in the rearview.

He closes his eyes briefly, wincing at his choice of words. “I didn’t mean?—”

“I know what you meant,” I say, a sly smile touching my lips.

Confused, Adam asks his brother, “What are you two talking about? Why would you be interested in Nate? You’re straight.”

I snort before I can stop myself. Adam’s jaw drops, and I slap the backs of my fingers over my mouth, trying to smother the laugh.

“You fuckers,” Adam gasps. “Tell me.”

Amused, I shake my head, wondering if he knows anything at all about why Axel ran away from Hawthorne like a bat out of hell three years ago.

Axel glares at me. Just as he lifts his hand, about to smack me upside the head, Adam quickly turns to face him and snatches his wrist. “If you touch him while he’s driving, I’ll throw your ass out of this car and you can walk home.”

Axel lowers his hand and looks away. “Sorry,” he says, meaning it. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Eyes on the road, I touch Adam’s arm, and he turns back around.

We’re quiet the rest of the way. My hand is on his lap again, and when his pinkie brushes mine, testing the waters, I stretch my fingers wide and lock them with his, holding his hand for the first time since we were eighteen.

He holds his breath. After a few seconds, he lets it out slowly and relaxes back into the seat, looking more content than I’ve seen him since he came back.

When we get home, I’m forced to let go of him, and I hate it more than I’d like to admit.

Axel carries his own bags, looking up at the house as he follows me and Adam to the front door.

“You’re paying my share of the rent,” he mutters.

“Don’t have to,” I say. “Nate and Carter have it covered.”

“So the rest of us are freeloaders?”

“Pretty much.” I open the door wide and stretch out my arm dramatically, welcoming him inside.

Unimpressed, he walks past me and sets his bags next to the stairs. “What’s going on out there?” he asks, tipping his chin at the commotion in the backyard.

“Barbecue. It’s tradition,” I say, gesturing for him to follow. “Welcome home, freeloader.”

We walk through the kitchen and step outside.

Axel looks around the yard, his gaze lingering on the mini basketball court to our right.

Carter’s playing on his own, wearing just a pair of blue basketball shorts, his tanned, chiseled body covered in a thin layer of sweat, his dirty blond hair pushed back off his face.

Breathing heavily, he turns his head to look this way, fumbling the ball before he rights himself.

Nate and Xavi are talking by the barbecue, their heads turning when they see us. Nate glares at me. I blow him a kiss.

“Axel, this is Nate,” Adam says. “His boyfriend, Xavi. Carter.” He points at Carter, who’s walking toward us. “He’s on the team?—”

“I know who he is. Who are they?” Axel tips his chin at the hot tub, where Frankie and her enemy with benefits are making out.

“The blonde one is Frankie. She lives here,” I tell Axel. “The girl on top of her is Zoey.”

“Are they endgame or can I get in on that?”

“You can try.”

Carter opens his mouth to say something, but Axel’s already walking away, wiggling his brows at us over his shoulder.

“Do you mind?” he asks as he helps himself to three beers from the cooler.

Setting them down on the side of the hot tub next to the girls, he removes his shirt, shamelessly drops his jeans, and climbs into the tub in his boxers.

Frankie pulls her mouth away from Zoey’s and turns her head to look at Axel. He says something, and she eyes him for a moment before she and Zoey stick their arms out, accepting the beers he offers them.

Adam shakes his head and moves to grab a beer for himself. As I go to follow him, Carter snatches my forearm, his fingers digging in as he turns me to face him. There’s a wicked smirk on his face as he leans in close. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I lift my free hand to boop his nose. “I see you under there, you know?” I whisper. “How’s your own medicine taste, love?”

His smug expression doesn’t change, the cocky fucker, though he doesn’t reply.

Removing myself from his tight grip, I walk over to Adam and press my chest to his back, my mouth near his ear. “Wanna play a game?”

He almost chokes on the beer. Setting it down, he all but runs upstairs with me hot on his heels.

This time, he’s the one throwing my ass in the pool.