Page 60 of The Illicit Play

“No, you’re not,” I say, trying to make him feel better, but how the hell would I know?

I’m not exactly the guy to talk to about romance anymore.

I’m just as single as he is.

Part of me wants to tell him to just embrace it. Being single is a damn sight easier than trying to keep a woman happy.

But I know that won’t fly.

He hasn’t had a girlfriend since moving here. He’s dated and shit, but nothing serious.

And he’s obviously ready for it.

But he’s not gonna find it if he keeps going the way he is. I mean, sure, he’ll attend parties at Football Frat and do some flirting in class, but he hardly ever comes to Offside with us. The guy’s not exactly a socialite.

Maybe he just needs a little nudge.

“Hey, man, do you want to hit up Offside tonight? We could—” My phone starts ringing and I check my watch to see who it is, my eyebrows dipping when Blake’s name appears.

Aw, shit. What does she want now?

I’m pretty sure she’s not calling to apologize. The fact that she’s iced me out completely speaks volumes.

So why is she calling, then?

She’s in trouble.

The thought sends a chill right through me.

“You gonna get that?” Tyrell pauses at the bottom of the steps.

“Ah… yeah. I probably should.” Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I reluctantly swipe my thumb over the screen. “I’ll see you in there.”

Tyrell nods and heads into the building while I walkaway from the stairs and force a genial tone. “Hey, Blake. What’s up?”

She doesn’t say anything, and now I’m wondering if this is a butt dial situation.

I’m kind of relieved to be honest. I don’t want to have to deal with any more of her shit.

But then she sniffs.

And I know that sound. It’s an “I’m fighting tears” kinda sniff.

Aw, shit.

I close my eyes. “Blake? You okay?”

She sniffs again, her voice wobbling when she finally speaks. “I need your help.”

“Okay.” Worry spikes through me, and I pick up my pace. I don’t even know where I’m going, but I’m breaking into a jog. “Where are you?”

She sucks in a shaky breath, then lets it out in a rush. “I’m at a bottle shop in town… and they’re threatening to call the cops unless someone comes down here to collect me.”

My steps falter, and I jolt to a stop on the grass. “What? Why?”

“Can you just come get me? Please.” She whimpers, and the sound does me in.

The sensible part of me wants to tell her to hang the fuck up and call herbrother. Isn’t he the one who’s supposed to be saving her?