The Not-Outcast Page 41
He wanted to know about Cheyenne. I told him about Cheyenne. Then he told me about Cheyenne, but I found out Thursday night that I was thinking he didn’t know a lot about the sister he didn’t want me to see.
I stared at him. “You know what’s going on.”
He quieted, the grin slipped and he eased back a step. He was holding a beer and his hand tightened, gripping it. “You’re still going to see her?”
I gestured in the direction of the kitchen with my head. “What about that bunny? I thought you were seeing Cheyenne’s friend.”
“She’s not a bunny.”
“You know what I mean.”
He quieted, nodding. “Yeah. I do.”
And there was silence.
Which I figured.
Chad liked that I was usually laid-back off the ice. Until now, because I wasn’t anymore when it came to Cheyenne, and there were feelings involved. Those feelings came out of nowhere. And they were intense, and we were all playing catch up, including myself.
“I don’t want you seeing her.”
“That’s your answer to my question about her friend? You quit seeing the friend, hoping that’d make me not see your sister? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”
“She’s not my sister.” His knuckles whitened around the beer before smoothing out again. “But you are? Seeing her?”
“I don’t know. We don’t even know.”
“You’ve been gone. I mean, how would that work?”
I frowned. “Phone. Texting. I’d think the normal way.”
His neck was getting red. “That’s what you’re doing? You’re sexting with my sister?”
“Like you said, she’s not really your sister.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man, she’s Hunter’s sister.”
“She doesn’t seem to have a relationship with anyone in your family besides Hunter.”
“That’s because—”
I was waiting.
I hadn’t cut him off. He stopped himself.
“Because?”
The red was crawling up. Chad was getting pissed. “She’s a fucking mental case. You got no clue what she put my family through in high school—”
“She told me she had a crush on me in school. Did you know?”
He looked away.
So, he knew and he hadn’t told me. I asked, “Did she ask you not to say anything to me?”
His eyes lit up, and he sneered. “Ask me? Fuck no. We never talked. Like never. I barely saw her myself. Mom wanted Hunter and me out of the house, and that was for a reason. Her mom—”
“Was a junkie.”
His head reared back.
“She told me. She told me a lot, actually. She was trying to scare me off. Thought I’d bolt at the first red flag.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “She did?”
“Chad, baby.” The woman from his side in the kitchen came out, wrapping herself around him. She rested her head against his shoulder, smiling up at me. “Hey, Cut. How are you? You played great both nights.”
I nodded, but didn’t reply. I said to Chad, “I’ll be upstairs.”
“You coming out tonight?” It was the woman.
I looked her over, flicked my gaze to Chad and left.
I heard her pfft behind me, and I didn’t care.
Christ.
I didn’t know what was going on with Chad. He’d been my best friend for so long, we were brothers, but this side of him? It only came out when he talked about Cheyenne, and she’d been referred to as ‘that girl’ in the past.
My phone buzzed when I was putting my water and food on the desk.
Hendrix: Your boy texted, saying he’s got a party going to Bresko’s tonight. You going?
Me: No.
Hendrix: Want to come over here? Could watch the game.
Me: Let me check with someone quick.
And I texted to Cheyenne.
Me: You around tonight?
She didn’t waste time getting back to me. My phone buzzed right away.
Cheyenne: Was planning on heading to Tits tonight. My friend runs it. You’re back?
I grinned.
Me: Fucking love that you hang out at a strip club.
Cheyenne: Want to come? Hang out? I’ll give you a private lap dance, just make sure you bring those dollar bills.
And my dick was hard.
I stifled a groan but typed back.
Me: We still need a first date. Let’s save that for the second date.
Cheyenne: Deal.
Me: I’m going to go to a friend’s, but I could swing by your place after? How long do you stay at the titty bar?
Cheyenne: I’ll be there till about 9. You sure you don’t want to come? How many girls have you dated that try to entice you to a strip club?
Me: None. I don’t date.
I waited.
She didn’t respond right away.
I waited a little bit more.
Then…
Cheyenne: Maybe the lap dance can be tonight at my place?
I was full-on smiling now, and I didn’t care.
Me: I am holding you to that.
Me: Text more later?
Cheyenne: Sounds good. I’m heading to the gym now.
Me: Be safe.
We ended it there, and the same feeling I had over the last few days, between our texting and our phone calls, was the same. This was new to me, but it felt good. It felt right. And I’d never felt that before either.