Page 114 of Call the Shots
Bear put a hand on his face. “I’m the biggest asshole.”
“Huh? Why?”
“I’ve been shitty to King for no reason.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply. “I used to hide his tools during the renovation shifts and put his phone at the bottom of your bag. Traffic cones behind his car, I locked him in the storage closet—fuck—I feel so stupid?—”
“You didwhat?”
“I’ll apologize?—”
“You locked him in—?” My mouth fell open. “Why would you do that?!”
“I thought he was being an asshole to you! I had reasons!”
Oh my god, I could remember panicking because King disappeared before finding him in the storage closet, scrolling on his phone, unaware that an hour passed.
“He’s on cloud nine about Willow,” I groaned. “He didn’t notice.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
“No—King calls you Beau. You’ve been having a one-sided fight. I don’t think he knows who you are.”
Followingmy late-night conversation with Bear, I caught myself mentally taking notes of everything to tell him about Austin. Because we didn’t only talk about King’s past. We bounced to every topic. I must’ve been boring him but if Bear was uninterested, he was great at hiding it. He kept asking new questions until we cut the call for the sake of sleep.
I watched King in the morning, orbiting around Willow. Their attraction was so obvious I couldn’t believe it was a secret. I was giddy with happiness for them.
“Will I be invited to the wedding?” I whispered to him.
“How could I tell the kids their godmother wasn’t invited?” he said absent-mindedly.
“Kids?!”
King shushed me, blushing hard. He was already thinking about their future. It was so cute. I headed to the table, mentally repeating the comment to myself, because I knew it’d make Bear laugh.
“Hey?” Cleo stopped me before I sat down. “If I told you not to look at the housing groups, would you do it?”
I groaned. “You know someone will send it to me.”
“That’s what I thought,” she sighed, passing me her phone.
There were a dozen pictures of my house. Well, my garden, my pride and joy. I scrolled through the pictures labeled ‘before’ and frowned.
Before what?
The caption said, ‘getting rid of the weeds!’ and my heart sank, seeing the new update.
My garden was gone.
The buffalo grass mix was ripped out and in its place was the golf course crap that needed to be watered constantly. The shrubs, the bushes, the flowers, my favorite trees were scattered across the backyard, roots ripped out. Pebbles had been poured on the soil to prevent anything from growing.
In the background, I could see a familiar car, and if I didn’t know any better, I could’ve sworn it was Warren Hodges’s. No, it couldn’t be Xavier’s stepdad. How fucked-up would it be if this was a family project?
“I don’t know what Xavier’s problem is,” Cleo muttered.
“I wasn’t getting the house back anyway,” I mumbled, pushing down the shitty, terrible feelings twisting me up inside. My phone pinged from my back pocket. I saw the messages already flying through, concerned people from the housing department, asking what happened to my house. “Can you do me a favor and make an excuse for me?”
“What about lunch?”
I pushed the door to the outside. “I’m not hungry.”
