Page 45 of The Wicked Love

And another.

Stella: Ha-ha, just kidding. See you in a minute.

“I’ll be right back, guys. Going to grab my friend,” I tell them as I rise from the sofa at the foot of the bed.

A few nods, and I head out the door as they continue to watch TV and attempt to tune Rhett out.

I type a quick text as I turn into the elevator and begin my descent.

Me: On my way down.

She hearts the message, and a short minute later, the doors are opening and—

Oh God.

Stella is at the front desk, leaning against the counter and talking to the blonde-haired girl who seems to run my life.

Stella spots me almost immediately, and if her impeccable awareness skills weren’t born out of such terrible circumstances, I would smile. She waves, and Becca turns, a frown immediately forming on her lips.

I begin walking over to them. Becca turns her attention back to Stella, says something I can’t hear, and walks away without turning back.

“About time you showed up.” She throws her arms around me, squeezing me much harder than her five-foot-four frame should allow.

“Oh, shut up.” I laugh and rub my hand on the top of her head, messing up her straight hair.

“Callum Jones! After all I’ve done for you!” She scoffs and shoves me away, quickly fixing the messed up strands.

A reminder of the time and effort I’ve been putting in at practice comes to the front of my mind as my laughter makes me wince.

“Come on, Stel-Bell.”

And with that, we head back upstairs to my room.

Where my teammates are waiting, probably ready to make the same fateful decision Dawson did.

And that is exactly what they do.

“All right, out,” I command to the boys.

With sighs and grunts, they stand up and head to their own rooms.

Stella flops belly-first onto the bed while I sit down on the sofa. “Okay, so you know I’m the greatest person in the world, right?”

I smile. “Uh-huh. Of course.”

“And I’m the smartest and funniest and coolest person?” she asks with the right side of her face still smashed onto the comforter.

Sitting up a little straighter, I ask, “Yeah, yeah.” I laugh. “What did you come up with? Anything will help.”

Stella rolls over and pushes herself up and onto the pillows at the head of the bed. “On Monday, Gran will be picked up and transported to her new house in the Banford Retirement Community.”

“Stella … that’s too much,” I whisper.

The Banford Retirement Community is where the richest of the rich go. The cheapest house costs half a million. And then you have to pay all the fees—gate fee, pool, maid service. The list is endless.

Stella smirks. “So, you don’t want me to finish then?” She continues to speak without a second of pause. “She will not need any new furniture or anything from your parents. Everything will already be there, ready and waiting for her. She will have a live-in nurse for twenty-four-hour care. And anything else she could possibly imagine. She will finish her days in bliss.”

I bite my bottom lip to stop the tremble. A tear falls from my lashes, rolling down my cheek, taking my worry and concern with it.