Chapter 31: Sadie: A Fool

SADIE

Not that I expected Trey to be completely devoid of human emotion, but in the short time I’ve known him, he’s shown me far more of it than I ever would’ve guessed.

I sneak another glance at him.

His fingers tap lazily against the steering wheel to the Rihanna song playing through the car, his attention fixed on the road like the last twenty minutes didn’t include him telling me he was proud of me, holding my hand, and kissing my fingers.

There are layers here. Disturbing amounts of them.

"You good?" he asks suddenly.

My attention snaps away from him and back to the window before he can catch me staring.

"I’m not going to start crying again, you know." I keep my eyes on the passing traffic. "You can stop checking on me every thirty seconds."

"I don’t trust your emotional state," he turns onto the next street.

A scoff slips past my teeth. How generous, being reduced to an emotional liability right after I gave him credit for having depth.

The heart I drew on the glass is long gone now, wiped away somewhere in the last however-many miles.

Cars blur past outside, and I realize I don’t actually know where we’ve been driving for the past thirty minutes. That should probably bother me. On any normal day, it would.

Today, I’m supposed to figure out what I’ve actually been for twenty-one years. And what does that even involve? Shifting? Trying to reach my wolf? Going back to that orphanage? Finding whoever suppressed me? And yeah, biological parents are back on the table too.

My life has developed an unreasonable number of tasks in the last hour and hiding in my room and completing none of them is the only plan that sounds manageable.

I sink a little deeper into the seat, resting my head against the window just as my phone starts vibrating on my thighs.

Lola: Where are you?

Lola: Need help with a research thing. Also what is happening in the WAGs group??? Have you figured out why they added you yet?

Right.

Before destroying half my bathroom, my biggest problem was ending up in the WAGs group and becoming campus gossip, all because of—

Wait.

I straighten, arms folding across my chest as I turn toward Trey.

He notices after a second. "What?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "You know my life has been completely insane since I met you, right?"

His fingers keep tapping against the wheel. "What are you trying to say?"

"I’m saying there’s a pattern."

"A pattern?"

"Yes." I pull out my phone, open the WAGs group, and hold the screen toward him. "Some weirdo added me to this."

He gives it a quick look. "Future WAGs?"

"It’s for wives and girlfriends of athletes. And I am neither of those things," I remind him. "Yet somehow I’m in there, people are taking pictures of us, half the campus thinks something is going on, and all of that is because of you."

His mouth shifts slightly, but he doesn’t say anything.

"And then there’s my wolf." I lower the phone. "Who was perfectly content doing nothing for years until I moved into your apartment, drank your suppressant and nearly died."

"You didn’t nearly die."

"I passed out with blood coming out of my mouth, Trey. Let me have nearly." I fold my arms tighter. "The point is, you’re the common denominator."

His head tilts slightly, and I know instantly he’s about to say something insufferable.

"What?" I demand.

"If you’re looking at it that way, blame Ezra."

My brows pull together. "How is this Ezra’s fault?"

"If he hadn’t dumped you, you wouldn’t have moved in with me, would you?"

"That’s..." I stop.

Unfortunately, the logic hits me directly in the face.

He’s right. Which is irritating enough that I almost let it go before something else catches up with me.

"Wait." I glare at him. "How did you know I got dumped?"

He says nothing.

"You didn’t consider that maybe I did the dumping?"

Still nothing from that mouth of his.

I lean across the console, trying to get a read on his face while he keeps it aimed at the road.

"Huh?" I prod. "Gonna admit you have some kind of bias against me?"

"It’s not a bias."

"Then what is it?"

His jaw ticks once, then his fingers still against the wheel.

"Ezra asked our pops for permission to reject you more than once."

The words hit beneath my ribs. My stomach drops before the embarrassment catches up.

What? Three years of waiting for Ezra to choose me, and now his brother is confirming he’d been trying to get rid of me the whole time.

Ugh. I wish he’d kept that to himself. Or at least found a better way to tell me when we weren’t both trapped inside his automobile—car, tank, whatever this gigantic thing is supposed to be.

Maybe if I open the door now, I’ll bounce. Maybe my mysterious wolf can finally make herself useful and grow wings.

Neither happens, so I’m forced to chuckle and turn toward the windshield before Trey can get too good a look at my reaction.

"I’m not surprised," I say, even though my chest is burning. "He’s a jerk."

My grip tightens around the phone as Ezra’s face flashes through my head again, followed by every other stupid thing he’s managed to ruin lately.

"He’s a fool," Trey’s voice cuts into my spiral.

Slowly, I drag my gaze back to him. One hand stays loose on the wheel while the other adjusts the collar of his black shirt.

"What?"

"Ezra." He nods sternly. "He’s always been a fool."

I blink at him.

"When we were kids, my pops used to offer us money sometimes. Ezra would pick two twenties over a hundred-dollar bill because there were two of them. He was old enough to count but still picked wrong." He shrugs. "Point is, he’s never been good at recognizing value when it’s right in front of him. So stop wasting energy on him and figure out how to shift instead." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ

His words sit in the air between us. He’s trying to make me feel better, I realize, even if the compliment came with me being compared to a hundred dollar bill.

"I also hate when people sulk in my car," he adds dryly. "Especially over my brother."

I sink farther into the seat, fighting the smile trying to creep out. "You know, saying you hate when people sulk in your car makes it sound like this happens a lot."

"What happens a lot?"

"Girls sulking in here." I gesture around the ridiculously expensive interior. "How many hearts have you broken in this car?"

"None."

"That confident?"

"I don’t give girls rides."

I turn toward him properly. "You don’t give girls rides?"

"No."

"Do you have something against women?"

One brow lifts, but that’s all I get.

"Or do you have a specific type?" I continue, remembering Nash in his kitchen looking far too pleased with himself. "Nerds, maybe?"

That gets a proper reaction out of him.

I immediately straighten. "Oh."

"What does that even mean?" he asks.

"Nothing." I look away too quickly.

"You said it like it meant something."

"I did not."

"You asked if I have a thing for nerds."

"And you reacted." I risk another look at him.

"I looked at you."

"Exactly."

His brow shifts. "What exactly is that supposed to prove?"

A ridiculous amount, actually. Because Nash’s voice chooses that exact moment to float back into my head.

Nerds. Petite, cute nerds. Can’t get enough of them.

I drop my attention to my phone. "Never mind. Meant nothing."

"Sadie, I know what you said—"

"Never mind," I repeat.

He watches me for another second before turning back to the road, and I bite the inside of my cheek before the smile trying to escape gets any bigger.

A moment of silence passes before he taps the steering wheel again. "Introduce yourself in the group."

I look at him. "What?"

"The WAGs group."

I blink. "Why?"

"It’s just for fun." He shrugs. "And people already think you’re with me. Might as well use it and make your life easier."

I physically cringe. "Make my life easier? Were you born with this ego or did you acquire it over time?"

"Face, money, ego, talent." His mouth barely moves. "All natural from birth."

At this rate, my eyeballs are going to detach from how often I’ve rolled them around him.

Still deciding whether he deserves a response, I barely notice when he takes a turn without warning. A few minutes later, the G-Wagon rolls into a shopping center that looks expensive enough to charge people for breathing near it.

By the time he pulls into a space, I’m looking around at the storefronts. "What are we doing here?"

"Shopping."

"For what?"

"Clothes."

The engine cuts off. Trey is out of the car before I can get another question in.

I push my door open and follow more carefully, the cuts in my feet reminding me with every few steps that this was probably a terrible idea. "Do you need something?"

"The shopping is for you."

I stop walking. "For me? Why?"

"Ngozi said you need to try new things."

My face twists. "Yeah? I shop all the time."

His attention drags over me from head to toe, and I get to watch his opinion of my wardrobe deteriorate in real time. He reaches my slippers and grimaces. "I doubt that."

My mouth falls open. "How can—"

He bends, slides one arm behind my knees and the other around my back, then lifts me before I can finish.

My breath catches. "Trey, we’re in public."

"You planning to mess your feet up badly enough to need them amputated?" He starts walking. "If not, stop complaining."

Insufferable. Ten minutes ago, he was holding my hand and telling me I was excellent. Now he’s back to his bossy, cutting remarks and hauling me around like some inconvenient piece of luggage.

"Trey." I mumble. "I don’t have money for this."

The doorman pulls the glass door open as we approach, and Trey walks through without slowing.

"I said we’re here to shop. I didn’t say anything about you paying."

I scrunch my nose at him. So pompous.

To him, money seems to be a universal solution. Sad? Buy something. Need a phone? Buy one. Find a way to roast me? Go shopping.

The sales attendants immediately straighten as we enter the first store. "Good afternoon, sir. Welcome—"

Their voices fade as Paige steps out from beside one of the displays.