glimmer in Shane’s eye, the side of his mouth tipping up into a smirk.
“I might have slept with his fiancée.”
Oh, fuck...
“And?”
Because I know him better than to leave it at that.
“Turnabout is fair play, Ezra. I also might have sent him video of it with her screaming out my name. But I can’t take credit for the idea. I was only tossing their bullshit back at them.”
Sighing to hear it, I cock a brow.
“Please tell me you didn’t break any laws pulling that shit.”
“Not a damn one,” he says, obvious pride in his expression. “She knew I was recording her. If you remember Hillary at all, she’s always been begging to end up with one of us. It just sucks for her it will never end up that way after the shit she pulled. Well, that, and she’s a raging, psychotic bitch.”
My brows crash together. Talk about taking one for the team.
“Hillary? From high school?”
Laughter shakes his shoulders.
“The one and only. Her and Paul got engaged a few months ago, and I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to take out both of them. Especially after the shit they pulled with Emily at the end of the year. After Paul saw the video, he called me, threatening to kick my ass for it. I told him where we were, but didn’t think he’d actually show. Damon and I were both surprised when Paul walked in with six of his buddies.”
I can’t be mad at Shane for it, not with how much I hate Hillary and Paul. If not for them, Damon and I wouldn’t have been arrested that night, and Emily wouldn’t have that scar on her shoulder.
“Just call it settled at this point. I’ve got bigger things to worry about than them.”
He nods his head, his voice losing every ounce of humor.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with your dad suddenly resurfacing and reaching out to Damon, would it?”
Although Shane doesn’t know what happened to Damon and me - something nobody knows because Damon and I swore never to talk about it - he does know more than Emily.
He was there when dad showed up to take us off every other weekend, and he was there when we were carried back into the house at Yale barely able to walk on our own.
I don’t bother answering because it doesn’t need to be said.
Shane curses under his breath.
“Somebody needs to take care of William. Especially if he’s going to start his shit again.”
I can’t argue with him there.
“That’s not the only problem.”
“Emily?”
Once again he accurately calls it out.
“Yeah.”
I lean my head against the wall, my eyes closing for a few seconds as I attempt to make sense of what I’m doing.
Having her in our lives is dangerous. But if I try to ignore the problem, it’ll only get worse.
I might be able to control myself enough to stay away, but that won’t stop Damon. He’s too wrapped up in her, which worries me that I misread his feelings a long time ago.
“Damon went to see Emily at her house Monday morning,” I tell Shane. “And when we dragged you both home from jail, she was the first thing he mentioned.”
Shane exhales a heavy breath, the toe of his boot tapping the floor as he stares over at me.
“Both of you should have left it alone.”
“Gabe needed her away from Ivy.”
He laughs. “It didn’t mean you needed to fuck her again.”
“We didn’t.”
He cocks a brow, calling me out on that bullshit.
“I saw the way she looked coming out of that house, and the cocky grins you two were wearing when you finally showed.”
“We didn’t fuck.”
It’s not a lie...not entirely.
“Right. We’ll go with that story, if you want. The point is you both need to stay away from her before we have a repeat of high school. It took both of you over a year to get over that shit. Everybody in our group has a bone to pick with Emily. Especially after what she did to you.”
He’s not wrong, but at the same time, Emily’s not entirely to blame.
If anyone started this, it’s Mason.
As if following my thoughts, Shane shakes his head and shuffles his weight between his feet.
“We should have never let you guys take that bet. But then how were we supposed to know you two would fall for her?”
My jaw tics at the reminder of why I approached Emily in the first place.
It was stupid kid shit. A challenge to see just how much of a prude she really