Page 33 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“I do care about Blake,” he tells me. “And I’m here for her in case she needs me. But she’s a big girl, man. And she was raised with three older brothers who taught her how to bring a guy to his knees if he ever tried anything she didn’t want.”

The imagery brings a small smile to my lips as I imagine any guy making a move Blake doesn’t want. She’d drop him like a sack of potatoes. Hell, it’s been a while, but I even witnessed it firsthand in high school once or twice.

He’s right.

She’s stronger than I give her credit for.

Doesn’t make it any easier for me, though.

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s hard for me too,” Colt continues as if he can read my mind. “She’s better than every guy on campus. She deserves a fuckin’ prince. But it isn’t my job to determine which guy is shitty versus the ones I deem good enough for Blake. It’s her job. But Burrows? He isn’t so bad, man. Blake could do a helluva lot worse than him. And Ash says Blake likes him.”

Blake told Ash she likes Burrows?

Fuck.

I dig my fingers into my thighs to keep from rubbing at the ache in my chest. I should be happy for her. Colt’s right. There are a lot of worse guys at LAU for Blake to fall for. But Burrows?

Come on, Blake.

“It isn’t my place to stand in the way of what Blake wants,” Colt adds. “It isn’t yours, either.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I mutter.

“You will,” he agrees, though I can hear the undertone in his voice. The warning. The order. “You’ll also make last night up to her.”

With a scowl, I face him. “Colt…”

“I’m serious. It was a dick move, and she deserves better. You know it. I know it. And you’re going to make it up to her, and you’re gonna do more than slip her a hundred bucks like you did with Burrows. We both know money doesn’t fix everything, especially not with Blake.”

He thinks I really just tried to throw money at the situation in order to fix it? My stomach churns and is only heightened when the reality of the matter sinks in. Colt doesn’t know about the bet involving his baby sister. If he did, he’d put an end to it, no matter how much he’s trying to give Blake the space to make her own decisions.

But is it my place to tell him about it? Or will I come off like even more of a controlling asshole if I intervene? And if I didn’t have a thing for the star of the bet, would I stick my nose where it didn’t belong in the first place? Probably not. The team has made shitty bets in the past, and I never cared or bothered to put a stop to them. So why is this time any different?

I look down at the worn material on my hat as I continue rubbing my thumb against the brim, indecision warring with regret.

I care about Blake. And the shit the team is pulling is exactly that. Shit.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I say, “Listen, Colt. About the money––”

“Thorne! Taylor!” Coach Sanderson yells from the entrance of the weight room. “Enough talking. Practice starts in five.”

Colt holds my gaze for one more second, then calls back, “We’ll be right there.”

I put my baseball hat on, wipe my palms against my thighs, and stand up.

Practice. Right.

11

BLAKELY

Everyone else went to SeaBird tonight, including Kate the introvert, and since I’m officially banned until I turn twenty-one, I’m stuck at home. Alone. The girls offered to stay and hang out with me, but it’s not like I’d actually take them up on it. They deserve to have fun and to not be held back by their youngest roommate.

Stupid Theo and his stupid nosiness.

I already hit the gym, ran home after lifting weights, and showered, which leaves me all alone, throwing a pity party for one while ignoring Burrows’ texts. He’s been super sweet and even offered to come over, but I can’t accept his suggestion without feeling like a wet blanket for ruining his Saturday night with the rest of his team. I prop my sore legs on the coffee table and grab the remote, scrolling through Netflix for my next binge since there are only so many other forms of entertainment when you’re home alone on a Saturday night.

I could probably hit up the party at the Taylor House just to piss Theo off, but I’m not ready for another fight. I’m too drained. Especially after walking in before practice and hearing his comment about touching me…er not touching me.

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