Page 65 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

As I shove my phone back into the locker and grab my gloves, Austin slaps ten crisp hundred dollar bills against my chest.

“Congrats, man. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

I look down at the cash, acid pooling in the back of my throat.

Resting his shoulder against the locker next to mine, Austin adds, “Burrows doesn’t think you should get it because of how things went down, but the rest of us agree. You might’ve played dirty, but you earned it fair and square.”

“What the hell?” Colt’s locker is on the opposite side and he slaps it closed, eyeing the cash like it’s foreign currency instead of US certified hundred dollar bills. “How come I don’t get any, Rookie?” he asks Austin.

Austin snorts, but I glare at him, then turn to Colt and search for an explanation.

How the hell am I supposed to explain this to him? That I slept with his little sister. That the team had a bet to see who could do it first.

This is so messed up.

But it’s not like I’m gonna lie to him. We’re brothers. We don’t have secrets.

Scratching my jaw, I choose my words carefully, all too aware of how quiet the room has become, but I don’t acknowledge it.

“So, listen,” I start. “There was a fucked-up bet going on––”

“And Theo won,” Austin finishes for me. He slaps my shoulder like we’re best buds. “We didn’t think he had it in him.”

My hands clench at my sides, throttling my hockey gloves while imagining they’re Austin’s throat.

“What kind of bet?” Colt’s attention shifts from me, to Austin, to the rest of the team in the locker room. They’re silent. Staring at us. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and an ominous feeling gathers like static electricity. All it will take is a catalyst to set it off, and I’m fucked.

Most of us are already suited up and ready to get on the ice. Some of the guys had been chatting amongst themselves, but as soon as Austin handed me the cash, their conversations stopped. Because they knew as well as I did how it would open a can of worms.

Logan smirks in the corner and makes a smartass comment to Graves, though it’s too low for me to hear what it is. He probably paid Austin to come over in front of Colt to stir up shit. Not that it matters. Clearly, it worked.

Now, everyone is watching Colt. Because everyone knows he was out of town last weekend. And they also know he had no idea about the bet or his little sister’s part in any of it.

I’d hoped I could sweep what happened with Blake under the rug since Colt had been out of town––or at least until I was ready to tell him––but apparently, fate hates me even more than normal.

And I think Colt can feel it too.

“What kind of bet?” Colt repeats, an edge to his voice.

Austin’s eyes are wide, but he doesn’t answer Colt. He turns to me, looking like a deer in the headlights. Apparently, Austin does have a sense of self-preservation after all.

“I, uh,” Austin clears his throat. “I should probably get my head in the game…” He books it back to his locker on the opposite side of the room.

Colt isn’t an idiot, though. His eyes glaze with scrutiny as he scans the room, assessing everyone’s expressions like a seasoned detective. Like he knows he’s being left in the dark on purpose.

“What’s going on?” he demands in the otherwise silent locker room.

Another beat of silence passes, then Logan chirps, “Oh, no one’s told you?” He slides his hands into his gloves, sitting on the bench in front of his locker.

“Told me what?” Colt demands.

They haven’t spoken since the night at my house when Colt decked him, so this doesn’t exactly give me any warm fuzzies.

“Logan,” I warn.

But he ignores me.

“Everyone had placed a bet about who could take Blake’s v-card. Don’t worry, though. I’d never cross that line with your baby sister. Hell, she’s like my own little sister.” Logan’s smirk widens, and his gaze flicks to me. “Theo, on the other hand…”

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