Why? Is he avoiding me? Did I do something or say something wrong?

I drop the bottle back into the cup holder and pinch the top of my nose, thinking back. Trying to remember.

Tequila. Dancing. CJ in my bedroom, not looking too thrilled to be there . . .

A sick feeling twists in my stomach.

Ohhh, no. Nonononono . . .

What if I begged him? What if that's why he was in my room? I know I wanted him in my bed—that’s all I seem to want lately. What if I shared those desires and pleaded with CJ to carry them out? And now he feels embarrassed for me, and being the decent guy that he is, he's giving me space because he thinks I’ll feel weird being around him after the way I acted.

Sloppy. Sex-starved.

He’s huge. I didn’t drag him into my room against his will, did I? Am I even capable of doing that?

Groaning, I drop my head forward until it hits the steering wheel. I squeeze my eyes shut.

Never again, tequila. Never. Again. You're dead to me.

After wallowing in my shame for a solid minute, I guzzle the rest of my water before dragging myself out of my car.

I can’t just sit here forever. I have prep work to do. And I refuse to make people wait for their hot meal. It might be the only one they get all week.

I lock up and get halfway up the walkway to the front doors at Holy Cross when a loud horn startles me, halts my footwork, and whips my head around.

Reed’s truck finishes pulling into a space two down from my car. I watch Beth lean over and kiss him through the windshield, then her door is opening and she’s jumping down, those cute black flowered boots of hers smacking the asphalt.

I glance down at my own footwear, squint, and then shake my head when I realize I have on one black Chuck and one navy blue. Awesome.

Life- I’ve lost count. Me- somewhere in the negatives.

Beth leaves her door open and moves around it to step up onto the sidewalk. She walks toward me, smiling and lifting her hand in a wave. “Hey. He wants to talk to you,” she says over the rumbling noise behind her. “I’ll meet you inside.”

I look from her face to the windshield, squinting. Huh. I wonder what this is about? “Uh, okay. Can you make sure Wendy puts out the fliers she made for the clothing drive? I want them on the tables before people start arriving.”

Beth nods when I meet her eyes again. “Yep. I’ll do that.”

“Thanks. I’ll be in in a sec.”

“Okay.”

We move past each other, and when I get close to Reed’s truck, moving to the left of it to get to the open passenger side door, I wave at him through the windshield.

He doesn’t wave back.

“Yo,” I nearly shout just as Reed is cutting off the engine. I tilt my head up and peer across the seat. “What’s up? I gotta get in there and delegate.”

“What the fuck, Riley,” he growls, his one arm bent, resting on the wheel, and his body angled, turned toward me and rigid against the leather.

I jerk back. “What? I’m not saying your wife can’t delegate. I’m just saying, that’s my job.”

“You’re living with CJ? How the fuck long has this been going on for?”

My mouth falls open. Panic floods me and causes my stomach to do a rollercoaster drop. “How do you know that?” I ask, voice so quiet I’m not sure Reed will be able to hear me.

His brows knit together. He’s hearing me. “You told me you are. What do you mean, how do I know that? You left me a message saying you’re living with him and in some sort of squad together, whatever the fuck that means.”

You know when you forget parts of your dream, important, crucial parts, and then somebody reminds you of these forgotten moments and you just want to pretend you’re not hearing them, these moments never happened, and you’ve suddenly gone deaf?

I blink and tilt my head to the side. “Huh?”

That’s happening to me right now.

Reed scowls. “You know, we could’ve cleared this up yesterday if you would’ve answered your phone the thirty times I called it, but you didn’t. So, before you go in and delegate, we’re clearing it up. How long?” he asks.

“I kept my phone off all day.”

“How long, Riley?” he presses.

I shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“How.” He leans over the seat. “Long.”

I pinch my lips together, pull in a deep breath, hoping it’ll relax me—it doesn’t—and confess my truth. “Since he got out of the hospital. I moved in the next day.”

“Are you serious? That was like, two months ago. What the fuck? Neither one of you thought I should know about it?”

“I asked CJ not to tell you. It isn’t his fault. Really. Please don’t be mad at him for it.” I watch Reed sit back and shake his head, as if he doesn’t believe me. “He thought you should know,” I add. “He wanted to tell you.”

“Why are you living with him?” Reed throws out. “If you needed a place to stay, you should've come to me. I'm your brother, Riley. You know I'll always help you out. Even if I didn't have room, I'd make room for you. Tell me you know that.”

My shoulders sag. I pull my lips between my teeth and nod my head.

Sometimes I forget how good of a man Reed is, and just how much I love having him as a big brother.

It sucks when he has to remind me.

“I know you would've made room for me,” I say, putting my hands on the edge of the passenger seat and stepping closer. “I know I could've come to you, but I didn't want to impose on you and Beth. You're newlyweds, Reed. You didn't need a third wheel.”