Page 68 of Xavier

There was a slight pause on the other end. “Uh, hey, Gage... it’s Dexter.”

That immediately had me sitting up in my bed. “You okay?”

Alarm bells were going off in my head immediately. There was no reason for Dexter to be callingmeof all people unless there was some dire emergency going on. Not when Xavier could just do it himself.

I kicked off my covers to roll out of bed and head over to my closet, my heart pounding.

“So... dad was kind of in an accident,” Dexter said slowly.

Oh god.

Oh, fuck.

My hands shook while reaching for one of my shirts hanging in the closet. “How bad?”

There was some noise on the other end as the line was muffled. I couldn’t tell what it was or if Dexter was talking to someone else to get the information, but either way, I was about ready to throw the fuck up.

Finally when he came back to the phone, he said, “He had a lot of smoke inhalation. They have him on a ventilator.”

“Smoke?”

What the fuck was Xavier doing around a goddamn fire the same day he came back form vacation?

What, was his station a bunch of fucking slave drivers?

They couldn’t give the man one fucking day to recover?

“Yeah. He wasn’t wearing any gear so it was pretty bad. I guess it was his neighbor?”

Leave it to Xavier to play fucking hero.

“I’ll be right there. Can you text me which hospital you’re at?”

Dexter sputtered on the other end. “You don’t have to come all the way out here. I just wanted to call and let you know so you weren’t worried that he wasn’t answering your calls or texts.”

This kid was too sweet for his own good. Despite all of the bad shit that’s happening to him and between him and Xavier, he still cared deeply for his loved ones. I could appreciate that wholeheartedly.

“Dexter?”

“Yeah?”

“Just text me the hospital.”

He was silent for a moment. “Okay.”

“Great,” I said, shoving one of my legs through a pant hole. “I’ll see you soon.”

CHAPTER 27

Gage

If California traffichad one enemy, it was me. And if California fucking traffic hadnoenemies, then I was fucking dead.

The amount of times Xavier had joked with me that a ‘California mile’ was actually five disguised with a hat and a trench coat would’ve given me enough money to buy myself a full week’s worth of groceries.

All those times I’d called him out for his over exaggerations and yet here I was, a damn fool for not trusting my very un-sarcastic boyfriend from giving me a harsh reality check in the form of being stuck in jam packed traffic after getting off of a red-eye flight that had me gnawing at the skin around my nails for the entire four and a half hours that it took to get over here.

A damn fool. That’s what I was.

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