Page 23 of I Blame the Club

“Right.” Shaking his head, Nico blinks as if he had forgotten where he was, “Guess I owe you a thank you for that, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I let my eyes drift over his shoulder to the door, hoping he'll take the hint and leave. Nico nods and reaches for the door handle.

Finally.

Pausing just as his hand reaches the latch, Nico turns and looks at me, “What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

I frown, seeing where this conversation is going, “We aren’t spending the day together, Montez. Twelve hours was more than enough.”

He gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “Babe, I was just making conversation. No need to read into it.”

Grinding my teeth together, I can't stop the growl that leaks out, “I told you not to call me that.”

“Did you?”

“Numerous times.” Counting to ten in my head, I think of all the reasons Uber was invented.

“Bad habit I guess.” He turns and looks back out the window, making no move to exit the vehicle.

“The bad habit is over-staying your welcome.”

He flinches at my harsh tone, but I can’t bring myself to feel bad about it.

“Roger that, Coach. See you next practice.”

Finally extracting himself from the passenger side, I wait until Nico shuts the door to hit the gas. The Cadillac roars to life as I punch it, ready to clear my head and get on with my day.

I've almost made it out of the parking lot when I give my rearview mirror one last glance. My foot eases off the gas pedal when I see Nico standing exactly where I left him, staring mindlessly at the visitor lot. Craning my neck, I follow his gaze and suck in a breath.

Fuck.

A pickup truck idles next to the doors of the varsity residence, casually waiting to pick someone up. It’s not the location that’s the problem, it’s the truck itself.

A black F-150. The exact make and model as the one from last night.

The lack of broken windows tells me it’s not actually the same one, but Nico wouldn’t know that. Cursing under my breath, I whip around the parking lot back to where Taber’s lacrosse goalie is still standing. He glances over just as I roll down my window.

“Get in.”

Relief washes over Nico’s features as he plants his ass back in my passenger seat. I hit the accelerator before he can buckle up.

“Where are we going?”

I sigh, “The police station.”

Nico hoots as we pull out of the parking lot and I can’t help but notice this time his smile reaches his eyes.

“I see.”

Officer Duncan looks at us with suspicious eyes, his thick black brows creeping towards his hairline. I glance at Nico and find an encouraging thumbs up waiting for me.

Amateur.

“I don’t believe in words, sir. I believe in data.” Pulling out my phone, I open up the email my family lawyer forwarded me this morning. Turning my screen sideways I place my phone in front of the officer.

“You realize any evidence you present will convict you of vandalism.” He leans forward, looking me dead in the eye, “And as of right now there are no charges pressed against you.”

“I understand.” I gesture towards the phone, “This is the security footage from the gas station just outside of Taber. You should be able to pull the license plate from the video.”

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