Page 47 of I Blame the Club

Swerving my gaze, I make eye contact with the creepy doll again. Her painted smile mocks me as my best friend waves for my attention.

“You’re lying.” The dimples are long gone as Wes stares me down.

“Am I?”

I go to walk around him but he shuffles to the left and blocks my path. A guy dressed up as Darth Vader glances in our direction.

I give him a cheerful wave, “Luke is your son!”

Vader holds up his hands as if to air choke me, so I drop the wave.

“Nico, stop being a dipshit. Tell me what’s going on.”

Turning to look at Wes, I can see the disappointment written across his face. The sight hits me straight in the gut.

“I…” Clearing my throat, I force my gaze to meet his, “I found something in Lacey’s room that I need to talk to her about.”

Wes looks at me in concern, “Is it bad?”

“That’s what I need to talk to her about. To make sure it isn’t.” Biting my lip, I feel the guilt surge to the surface, “Lacey’s trust has been broken so many times, she needs to know she has someone besides you in her corner.”

“You're right.” He nods, grabbing a Green Day CD from the stack, “She needs someone she can trust. And there’s no one I trust more for that role that you.”

Emotion cracks his voice and my own throat thickens dangerously.

“You know I will always protect her. She’s my sister as much as she is yours.”

Wes grins, his eyes glistening, “Lucky for her, she got my hair.”

I laugh, poking at the t-shirts bundled in his arms, “Your midnight locks might be pretty but we both know she got my charm.”

He snorts, “More like your dramatics.”

“Hell, I’ll take it.”

We smile at each other and the uncertainty I’ve been carrying around finally lifts from my shoulders. My mind flashes to the heart-to-heart I had with Mo earlier this week and I feel a warm flush work its way through my body.

“Have you ever heard any rumours about Maurice being gay?”

Wes groans, finally putting one of the band t-shirts back on the rack, “Dude, you need to leave that man alone. He already hates everything we do.”

I raise my hands in surrender, “It’s an innocent question.”

“From what I’ve heard, Mo was a notorious ladies’ man. He always celebrated his win with whatever lacrosse bunny was nearby. Sometimes there was more than one.”

The image puts a bad taste in my mouth.

“He was into threesomes?”

Wes nods, “Threesomes, foursomes, whatever was convenient and available. The nickname Mighty Mo didn’t originate from the lacrosse field if you know what I mean.”

Well, fuck me. The man’s hookup resume is more impressive than mine.

“So, there was never any rumours of him going toLifestyleto blow off some steam?”

Wes laughs, “A lot of guys go to that nightclub to blow off some steam. Even Trip came with us last time.Lifestyleis an awesome nightclub whether you’re gay or not.”

I sigh, feeling oddly disappointed, “Good point.”

---