Page 91 of The Keeper

“How desperate I am for your company,” I replied, my voice low and tight.

“Lovers quarrel?” a voice chastised from the doorway.

Bennet and I looked over. Unbelievable.

“What do you want Adam?” I bit out.

My step-brother reigned in whatever smart ass comeback he wanted to say. Acting like a complete tosser in front of the owner’s son wasn’t his style. He preferred ass-kissing. Me, on the other hand? I’d gladly risk another suspension if it meant wringing this twat’s neck.

“Adam,” Bennet smiled. “I see you’re in the starting eleven again for this weekend’s match. You’ve done well defending for us this season since Pope’s injury.”

Christ, he’s smooth. I suppressed a laugh. Bennet could be masterful when the moment called for it. He knew as well as I did that Adam needed praise. He’s always been jealous of my natural ability to play the game. His skills, while decent, weren’t on the same scale as mine or Cade’s.

“Happy to do what I can to give RCA a better chance to win,” he beamed.

“Sure,” I said, standing up. “Just keep the ball away from my goal on Saturday.”

“Not a problem,” he smirked. “As long as you don’t throw any punches.”

“Ah,” Bennet clasped my shoulder to prevent me from lunging at Adam. “Xavier knows what he has to do. The season is getting tight and we have our eye on the top prize. No more room for error. Right?” He squeezed my shoulder for emphasis and looked me in the eye.

“Right,” I muttered, noticing the look of satisfaction on my step-brother’s face. “Was there something you needed, Adam?”

“Yeah. Mom wants to know if you’d like to come for dinner on Friday. A good luck gathering before your first match back or some shit like that.”

I smiled internally. He couldn’t stand that my step-mother treated me as her own son. At least someone in my fucking family did.

“You could have texted me.”

“You don’t answer my texts and I’d rather keep our communication limited to football.”

“Fine,” I sighed. “Tell her I’ll be there.”

Adam left without so much as a glance backward. I inhaled slow, mindlessly tracing my finger over my scar.

“You should join us tonight.” Bennet’s voice startled me. “It’ll help you relax.”

I stared at him. “I’m not interested.”

“Yeah. Sure,” he huffed. “You’ve never been one to turn down a single malt scotch. Have a glass and go sulk in a corner for all I care. Cade and I would really like for you to be there. Just like old times.”

“Old times, huh?”

Flattening one palm on the wall, Bennet leaned toward me, his hulking frame dominating my line of sight. “Would you go if Victoria was still here? Would you take her?”

Two can play this game. “Would you take Hannah?” I shot back.

His lip twitched. Bingo. How does it feel, you pretentious knob.

“Does Hannah know what kind of parties you host?”

“Not yet.” He smirked. “Does Victoria?”

“Sort of.”

“Well, tonight is just the three of us. No more parties for the foreseeable future.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Really? What happened?”

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