Page 102 of Breakaway Bet

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’m not going to argue with you there. Have you taken a look at the silent auction items yet this year?”

I shake my head, and then I freeze midstep as I remember what this asshole did to me at the last event that held a silent auction. I narrow my eyes to a glare. “What the fuck did you do?”

He laughs and holds both hands up innocently. “Nothing! Nothing, I swear.”

“You better fucking not.”

“I was going to do it to Kel this year,” he admits.

I glance across the room and spot Ivy. She’s still standing with her brother, who seems to be glaring daggers at me from across the room.

He is my brother-in-law, after all. Maybe I should see if I can get him to pony up something extra to benefit this wonderful cause tonight.

“Or we could do it to Dex,” I suggest.

I regret the words the moment they’re out of my mouth…and even more so when West’s eyes light up.

“Halstead!” West yells as we approach Kellan.

He turns around and grins as he holds up his glass of whiskey, and he takes a long sip from the glass before he says, “One of our last nights out before the season, boys. Let’s make it count.”

“Do you remember at that youth event back in February when I made a fake bid sheet for a private skating lesson with our boy Maddox and he was forced into doing it so he didn’t look like a shitty human?” West asks Kellan.

Kellan starts to laugh, and I roll my eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I remember. Why? Who are we doing it to tonight?”

“Cash wants to get Dex Bradley,” West says.

“No, I don’t,” I protest. It’s my turn at the bar, and I place my order. West is next.

“Let’s do it. Oh, fuck, it’ll be so funny to watch him when they announce it,” Kellan says.

“He’ll know it was me,” I say.

“But it’s not you. It’s me.” West sets a hand on his own chest. “Come on, man. Loosen up. Let’s get a few drinks in you, and I’ll go take a picture of the bid sheets so I can make a fake.”

I don’t know what the hell I’ve just unleashed, but I do know it isn’t going to be pretty.

“Aw, look at poor Maddox, looking like a scared little pussy,” West taunts. He tips his head to the bartender and places his order.

“I’m not scared,” I mutter, though Dex was formerly known for getting into public fights, and it wouldn’t be his first fight at a charity event. Come to think of it, maybe he and West have more in common than I first realized.

“Prove it, fucker,” Kellan says.

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

“No, he’s right, man. If you’re not scared, do it,” West taunts.

“And outbid him on everything he bids on in the live auction, too,” Kellan suggests.

The bartender drops my drinks off, and I chug the whiskey. I slam it on the counter and nod toward the glass, the universal sign that I’ll have another.

“Fuck it, I’m in. Let’s have him host the winner’s fantasy football draft at his condo overlooking the Vegas Strip,” I say.

Both my dumbass wingers crack up at the suggestion. There’s no way in hell Dex won’t trace this back to me, but if he’s going to stare at me like he wants to murder me, at least he’ll have a reason for it now.