“Half-brother,” he snapped, crushing the plastic bottle.
“Okay, well, her brother is standing on her other side.” Apparently, hockey teams had more drama than football teams because this shit was worthy of HBO.
“What?” Every head at our table turned to stare at the trio, who were in-turn staring back. Maxim had leveled a glare on Sterling, London stared at me with an open mouth, and Caz looked bored with it all.
“Assuming you are talking about London Foster,” I said slowly. “Which I guess you probably are since she’s coming this way.” I laughed at the absurdity of it all. Sterling was losing his shit over the one woman who could tell me how mine was doing.
Not yours anymore, asshole. I let the anger overtake every other emotion. It was safer, more manageable that way.
“You know London?” Sterling asked, his eyes popping wide.
“This is like being on the set of a soap opera,” I muttered.
“He sure does,” she said, coming to a stop on the other side of Sterling and tucking her hair behind her ears. “How are you, Hendrix?”
Sterling paled. “Oh, God, tell me you didn’t—”
“Didn’t what, Jansen Sterling?” she snapped, narrowing her eyes. “Didn’t sleep with him? I mean, that’s where your thoughts jumped to, right?”
Sterling’s mouth opened and shut a few times, but nothing came out.
“Boys.” She rolled her eyes. “First, if I decided to sleep with Hollywood over here, that would be my business. Not yours. Second, no, I have not slept with Hendrix, though I can admit he’s been naked in my apartment more than a few times.” She smiled sweetly at Sterling.
I just about spit out my water.
If looks could have killed, Sterling would have buried my body right there, not Maxim’s. “Her roommate,” I answered his unspoken question and leaned into my seat. “How is sweet little Savannah?” My chest clenched, threatening to squeeze the life out of my lungs. I’d gone days without saying her name, and the sound of it sliced me open more efficiently than any machete could have.
Fuck, I missed her, and I hated myself for it. It wasn’t like she was running around missing me. According to her Instagram, she was doing perfectly fine.
“Miserable,” London snapped. “How the hell do you think she is with you down here in Charleston?”
“Seems to me she got everything she wanted.” I lifted my eyebrows.
“Wait a second, Caz is your brother?” Sterling’s gaze snapped from Caz Foster to London Foster. “How the hell did I not put that together?”
“Damn, Hollywood!” London exclaimed. “You’ve been in town all of three seconds and already outed me?”
“Didn’t realize you were keeping it a secret,” I cringed.
“Yes, Caspian is my brother, which again,” her gaze swung to Sterling, “is none of your business.”
“But it’s Maxim’s?” Sterling retorted, standing so she had to crane her neck up to see him. The guy pretty much dwarfed Savannah’s best friend.
“Seriously?” She lifted her chin. “The next time you want to act all pissy that I show up with Maxim, remind yourself that you could have asked first.”
A muscle ticked in Sterling’s jaw. “Fine. I will.”
“Fine.” Her gaze snapped back to mine. “As for you, Hendrix. While you’re sitting here in a bar, looking like…” she gestured at my face. “…you, Savannah is a wreck.”
I scoffed. “You don’t have to cover for her anymore, London. We’re not in Raleigh.”
“I’m not!”
“Yeah, okay.” I gave her a thumbs up and wished the water in front of me was something a hell of a lot stronger. “She walked away without a look. A call. A text. So, go ahead and tell me again just how fucking torn up she is. She got every single thing she wanted, and I got traded.”
She winced. “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean she’s not hurting.”
“Right. Whatever you need to tell yourself. We both know how it really happened, don’t we?” I cocked my head to the side.
Her eyes narrowed. “You could at least act like you care. You’re not heartbroken, are you? You’re just pissed that she ended it first.”
“Act like I care?” I growled. “I loved her, London. Loved her, and she didn’t give a shit, so why the fuck should I? She threw me away like that pair of broken boots. I’m done caring.”
Her gaze dropped to the open collar of my button-down shirt, and she snorted. “You still care.”
“Like hell,” I challenged. The last thing I needed was London running back to Savannah and telling her how much of a pussy