“What? Wait!” Tristan grabbed my arm. “What happened?”
“She’s out of town for an emergency. It’s all you’re getting from me.” I stated firmly.
“But,” she faltered, “I’m her best friend. I should know what happened.”
“You should know nothing unless Mandy wants to tell you. If you’re her best friend, you’ll back off. That’s what friends do, they support each other when they’re asked for it,” I said swiftly, twisting my arm out of her hand.
“What about Amber and Jasmine, do they know?” she asked helplessly.
I turned away and threw over my shoulder, “They’re smarter than that. They’ll get a ‘fuck off’ too, if they ask.”
I finally found the fricking bathroom. After I used it, I saw Amber and Jasmine talking with Tristan. All three of them looked at me when I emerged from the house, but none of them approached me, thank God. I climbed into Tray’s car, seeking refuge and curled up with my pillow and iPod.
Tray climbed in a little later and I opened my eyes, drowsy, when I heard two guys get in the backseat—Helms and Mitch. The two never separated.
I turned my volume up and closed my eyes, snuggling back into my pillow.
The next time I woke up, Tray was slowing to a stop. I sat up, rubbing my face as I saw we were already in the cities, at a stoplight.
I took out my iPod headphones and asked, “Where are we?”
“About ten minutes from the hotel,” Tray murmured, watching the traffic ahead.
I checked the back. Helms and Mitch were looking at magazines. When I caught sight of the clock, I realized that we’d been driving for two hours.
“Thanks for driving,” I murmured, sitting up in my seat.
Tray didn’t reply, but I wasn’t expecting one.
Not long after, we pulled into the hotel’s entrance ramp. Tray brought the car to the front doors and everyone filed out. Behind us, the rest of the cars either pulled up behind Tray or parked in the lot. Everyone was getting out and grabbing their bags. It’d be mass hysteria inside, considering there were at least twenty of us. Probably more.
I saw Tray grab my bags and I moved to intercept. “I can carry ‘em.”
“You sure?” he asked, reaching for his own bags.
“Yeah. You can get in first and check in,” I replied, nodding to the crowd behind us.
Tray nodded in understanding and went inside. I looked through the glass doors and saw he booted Mitch and Helms to the side, taking their place.
I was proud.
While he was checking us in, I managed to bring everything in—Tray’s bags and my own. Then I parked the car on the ramp and circled around to the lobby. Our bags were missing, so I sat back and waited. A minute later the elevator doors opened and I saw Tray.
He held out a key to me. “We’re in room 2615.”
“What floor?”
“Twenty six.” He grinned, leaning against the wall.
I felt stupid.
“How long till we leave for the game?”
“About an hour. Carter’s got the room next to ours. A bunch of the guys want to grab some lunch.”
I yawned. “What about alcohol?”
“What do you think was in my bags?” Tray murmured, a smirk adorning his features—those hazel eyes, angular cheekbones, those luscious lips…