Fucking Audrey.
“I wasn’t at the strip club.” I sigh. “I went to Spark’s Curve for some coffee. I was sitting there when some of the guys from the team came in, and they wanted to party. Audrey tagged along with them because she was all over Robertson like a bad rash.”
“It didn’t sound that way to me.”
He seems pissed, and I really don’t get what his deal is. I would have told him to come over if I thought he actually wanted to leave this depressing hole.
“Why is Audrey snap chatting you, anyway?” I ask.
He looks away and shrugs. “No clue.”
Another lie. Maybe he wants to fuck her. If that’s the case, he can have her.
“For the record, I’ve never hooked up with Audrey.”
“Yeah, right.” He snorts.
“I haven’t,” I deadpan. “Ask her yourself if you want.”
Carson’s brows pinch together, and he still doesn’t look like he believes it. But I didn’t come here to waste my breath talking about Audrey. She’s enough of a headache as it is.
“I need to talk to you about that night with Kail,” I tell him.
His eyes darken, and he reaches for the bottle of pills beside him, emptying two into his palm. “The last time I tried to bring it up, you plowed your car into a ditch at ninety miles an hour.”
His observation poisons the air with resentment. We haven’t talked about it. Not really. It isn’t like him to be so harsh, but I suspect the pills are talking now.
“I want to hear your side of things,” I push.
Carson tips his head back and swallows the painkillers, chasing them with a fresh can of beer. I wonder how many he’s taken today. Nobody’s ever around to monitor him. His dad works long hours and travels a lot. He’s pretty much always here by himself.
“My side of things?” His eyes cut to mine. “You made up your mind about my side of things a long time ago, remember? Does it even fucking matter anymore?”
“It matters.” My palms flex against my thighs, and he reads me like an open book.
“You couldn’t stay away from her, could you?”
“I just need to know what the fuck you wanted to tell me about that night,” I grit out. “Come on, man. Let’s put this shit to bed.”
“Are you fucking her?”
“Don’t go there,” I warn him.
My indignation doesn’t make any sense. I don’t owe Kail anything, and I shouldn’t give a shit what anyone says about her anymore. But despite everything that’s happened, I still feel some sort of fucked-up loyalty to her. Will I ever get her out of my system?
“You’re pathetic. You know that?” Carson shakes his head in disgust. “Just admit it. You’ve been obsessed with that girl since the day she walked into your life. It doesn’t matter what the truth is. If you came here looking for confirmation so you can go back and screw her without guilt—”
“I told you not to fucking go there.” I rise to my feet and curl my fists at my side, trying to contain myself.
“What do you want to hear?” He throws out his arms. “That I took her for a joy ride all night long while you passed out like a little bitch?”
“What the hell is your problem?” I snarl. “You want another smashed knee? Because if you say that about her one more time—”
“Just get the fuck out.” He tosses a throw pillow at me. “Don’t come here asking me about her now. I’m not a priest, and this isn’t your confessional. If you want to absolve yourself, do it somewhere else.”
He reaches for the bottle of pills again, and I hesitate. Carson’s always prickled easily, but I’ve never seen him like this. As much as he’s trying to piss me off right now, I can’t leave him this way.
“Who’s monitoring your meds?” I ask.