Page 43 of I Blame the Club

I smile painfully at the Enrique hater, “Translator and part-time linguistics instructor at your service.”

She ignores me, studying Wes with curiosity. If I didn’t know better, I would say there was even a spark of interest in those blue eyes…

“Are you single?”

I choke on my tongue, coughing and laughing to the point of needing an ambulance.

Lacey grimaces, “That’s my brother.”

Cecelia cocks out a hip, “So?”

Wes looks at me in panic but I’m already on fire control.

“I’m afraid that fine man over there is happily cuffed. Should that status change however, you will be the first to know.”

I give her a big grin, ignoring the death glare Wes is sending my way.

What can I say? Karma is a bitch.

“Deal.”

Cecelia nods, her eyes lingering on Wes before heading back to her room. The second we hear her door close Lacey lets out a snort.

“Thanks for being the peace treaty, Wesley.”

Wes groans, covering his face with his hands, “That was wrong on so many levels.”

I grin, “But now Lacey has a conversation starterandincentive for good roommate behaviour.”

She smiles, walking over to flick her brother on the nose, “We all know Trip isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Stop being a drama queen and help me unpack.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Picking up the closest box, Wes rips off the top and starts stacking books on Lacey’s desk. I follow suit, returning my attention to the box in front of me. I smile as I pull photographs out of the box, clips from Lacey’s childhood and our teenage adventures filling me with warm memories.

“Do you want to hang or fold your shirts?”

Lacey sighs dramatically, “Always hang, Wesley. That way they don’t get wrinkled.”

“You know, there is this wonderful invention called an iron.”

I grin, listening to the familiar sibling banter as I empty out Lacey’s stash of memories. A flash of orange catches my eyes and I feel my grin falter as my fingers wrap around the pill bottle rolling around the otherwise empty box.

Chapter 13

Mo

I curse as Nico lets another ball sail into the net.

The players lining the bench shoot me a look at my swearing but I don’t care. We are one week away from our first tournament and suddenly Nico has become the worst lacrosse goalie I have ever seen in my life. Every single shot that has been taken this practice has gone in.

Even fucking Millard managed to make it past Nico’s guard.

Clenching my clipboard until my knuckles turn white, I jerk my head towards the sub sitting on the bench.

“Out on the field. Now.”

“But Coach, Nico isn’t-

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