Page 44 of Forgiving Utah
“Yep. Pepper said they’re shooting on Friday evening, and she's positive their manager will agree to it. We leave Thursday, set up Friday morning, and shoot the same day. Might cut it close, though.”
My stomach unclenches a little as I blow out a breath. “Okay. That might actually work.”
“See? Crisis averted.”
Logan pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I mean, you still might want to tell your family you'll be late.”
Ah, fuck me. I'm supposed to pick up the cake.
“Yeah,” Tay snickers, twirling his finger. “Go ahead. Call your mom. I can't wait.”
A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.
I've jumped ramps going eighty miles an hour, flung myself fifty feet into the air. Crashed, broken bones, torn ligaments that took forever to heal. Nothing in this world scares me anymore…
Except for my mother when she's mad.
I swipe a hand over my eyes and try to breathe past the rising panic in my throat. How the hell am I supposed to tell her that she'll have to find someone else to bring the cake without telling her why I'll be late?
Sure, I could just mention the music video, but I already know she'll ask why we're doing it, which would mean also admitting that I fucked up.
Unless…
Oh.
Oh no.
No… yes.
A terrible idea forms in my head, twisting my stomach.
Devon. He owes me money. He slept with my girl. He’s living in my apartment, wearing my clothes. Giving me head. I don't like the idea of leaving him alone in my apartment for two days, anyway, and he fucking owes me.
Maybe it's about time that I cash in on his debt.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Devon
My whole body aches.
I muscle through the pain, clearing table after table and wiping them down. The dishes are heavy, these worn-out Chucks hurt my feet, and I have a fucking headache. But at least I'm not shaking today. Progress, I guess.
Honestly, I can't remember the last time I worked so hard. The tour last year, maybe. And before that… not since college—before I dropped out. Before I discovered my brother was really my dad and my entire life went to shit.
That memory from spring break ten years ago hits me like a brick in the teeth.
“Nice bike, kid.”
Glancing up from my phone, I catch Joel’s attention on my crotch rocket parked in the driveway. “Yeah? Picked her up last week.”
He lets out a low whistle. “You pay for that yourself?”
“Sure did.” I tuck my phone away and lean back on the porch step, stretching my legs. “Worked overtime all semester building trusses for construction, even picked up shifts during finals week. Totally worth it, though.”
For the first time in a long time, everything feels… normal. Like, I kind of have a family. I actually hung out with my nephews yesterday.
Well, by hang out, I mean hold them, because they're newborns. But I did get to pal around with Logan and his friend, Huck. They were playing some boring video game, so I taught them how to pick locks in real life. Maybe a weird thing to bond over, but what are uncles for?
