Page 7 of Undeniable Love

Groaning, Jax prayed that didn’t mean he brought a bunch of random—and seemingly not invited—women to Travis’ place.

The pictures that followed showed he had indeed brought the uninvited women.

Glancing around, he had to wonder how he was here alone. With the way Tiffany was incessantly texting him and taking pictures, he would have expected her to be here.

The last picture was of her behind the wheel of his truck giving him the finger.

Unknown: Screw you Jax Wylder! I saw you kissing that girl!

Unknown: Good luck finding your truck!

Just as he swiped the screen, the phone rang and it was Travis.

“Trav, thank God,” he said, flopping back against the sofa cushions. “What the hell happened last night? I don’t even remember getting home.” Raking his hand through his hair again, he added, “Is my truck at your place?”

“Do you seriously not remember what happened here last night?” his friend asked with amusement.

“Um…”

“I warned you not to bring the crazy here, but you didn’t listen.”

“Trav…come on. I woke up on my living room floor, my head is ready to split in two, and I have no idea where my truck is.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a long breath. “I’d yell if it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Damn. And I was all set to drag this out a big, but…fine. I had the redhead and her friends thrown out. They were taking pictures and if the coaches see them, we’re all screwed. After that, you celebrated by opening some very expensive tequila and doing shots before stripping down to your briefs and diving into my pool. Then you did several more shots and took a frozen pizza from my freezer and ate it.”

“So? I ate a pizza. That doesn’t sound bad.”

“It was still frozen, Jax,” he said with a snort of laughter. “We all knew you couldn’t drive yourself home, so Davis took you. It just made sense since he lives in your neighborhood and all he had to drink all night was water.”

“So my truck’s still there,” he reasoned.

“Nope. I’ve already been out this morning and the only car in the driveway was mine. Where’d you park when you got here?”

That’s when he remembered the last picture. Muttering a curse, he said, “I have to call the police. That crazy bitch stole my truck.”

“Jax, you can’t be sure?—”

“Her last text to me was a picture from the front seat of my truck and she said, ‘good luck finding your truck.’ Shit! If this gets out, I am so screwed!”

Travis’ response was a lot of cursing and way more vulgar. “Dammit, Jax! I told you not to bring her! If any of those pictures get out, we’re all screwed! What the hell were you thinking?”

“I…I honestly don’t know! But I need to call the cops and find my truck!”

“Can’t you just call her and ask where it is? If she texted you, you have proof that she took it and you clearly have her number! Why drag the cops into it?”

“Okay, okay, that makes sense. I’ll just…”

His phone vibrated with an incoming text.

And another.

And another.

“Hang on.” Looking at the screen, he saw the texts were from Declan.

Declan: Are you watching the TV?

Declan: Turn on channel 3

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