Block Shot (Hoops #2)(48)

“There wasn’t time before,” he says loudly. “But I wanted to apologize for . . .”

He stares at the well-manicured grass under our feet for a few seconds before speaking again.

“For what happened senior year, Banner.” He runs an impatient hand through the dark waves all the girls gushed over at Kerrington. “I’m ashamed for going along with it.”

“It was years ago,” I say, tugging on my elbow, but he doesn’t let go.

“It was years ago, which makes it even worse that I’m only now apologizing,” he says. “I gave in to the pressure because I wanted to get in. I needed to. I’m a legacy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I steal a look at the helicopter. Jared wears a heavy frown and stands at the door, hands jammed into his pockets. “I should go.”

“He had nothing to do with it.” Bent dips his head to capture and hold my gaze. “He was furious that night when Prescott told him to—”

“Fuck the fat girl,” I finish for him, my words stiff.

“Yeah,” Bent admits with a heavy sigh.

“And yet he still reaped the benefits,” I say scornfully.

“What benefits?” Bent asks, a frown gathered over the confusion in his eyes.

“Of The Pride. I’ve seen him with you and your friends at events and vacations and . . . I’m not stupid. Obviously he’s in.”

“You see him with me and my friends and family because we are friends. My parents see Jared like a second son. It took two years for him to speak to me again, and only then because my mother begged him to.”

I take in the new information but can’t make sense of everything.

“So he’s really not in The Pride?” I ask, searching the rugged lines of his face for deceit.

“Look, I can’t talk about this with you,” Bent says. “It’s a secret society, which means secret. Even what I’ve told you could get me tossed out, and unlike Jared, I need the connections. I will tell you that not only is he not a member, but he’s banned for life.”

“For life? Why?”

Humor twitches the corners of Bent’s mouth.

“For assaulting a legacy,” Bent says with a chuckle. “He came back that night and knocked two of Prescott’s teeth out.”

A startled laugh pops from my mouth.

“Why would he do that?”

The humor drains from Bent’s face, and he takes my hands between his, squeezing.

“He was crazy about you, Banner.”

Shock and disbelief wrestle inside me. My heart beats louder in my ears than the propellers of the waiting helicopter chopping through the air.

“No, he—”

“Yes,” Bent cuts in, his stare unwavering. “He was. I promise you.”

I brave a glance at Jared, still waiting, hair blown into an unruly mess by the propellers. He slides a questioning look from me to Bent and then cocks his head toward the helicopter, indicating we need to go.

“Um, thanks for telling me, Bent,” I say, turning to go. He catches my elbow again.

“Apology accepted?” he asks with a half-smile.

“Of course.” I manage a smile back, but I’m still stunned by his revelation. Could it have been true? Real? Could that night have been real to Jared? It’s dangerous to think so.

I jog the rest of the way to the helicopter, and Jared helps me up the two steps and inside. I’ve barely settled in and buckled my seat belt when Jared hands me a headset.

“Put it on,” he says. I can barely hear him, but can read his lips and slip the headset on. “What did Bent say to you?”

“It was a private conversation,” I say, stalling. I turn to the window, not even seeing the jewel-toned waters or the majestic cliffs.

“I’ll just ask him,” he says over the headset.

No response from me.

“He’ll tell me,” Jared continues. He reaches around to grasp my chin gently and turns my face to his. “But I’d rather hear it from you.”

His thumb is rough against my face, but the caress, his touch, brushing back and forth over my skin, is soft.

“He said you weren’t in on what happened that night,” I say haltingly, tugging my chin free. “He said you weren’t a member of The Pride.”

“I told you that.”

“I didn’t believe you.”

His grin leans right. “I can’t blame you for that.”

“Right.”

“But you believe me now? You believe Bent?”

“He says you aren’t in The Pride,” I say without answering definitively. “That you never were.”

“I never was,” he confirms, not looking away. Not allowing me to. “I withdrew as soon as Prescott told me what he wanted me to do.”

I nod jerkily, twisting my fingers in my lap.

“That’s what he said.” I look up, pressing my lips against an irrepressible smile. “He said you’re banned for life because you knocked out two of Prescott’s teeth.”

His husky laugh rumbles in my ears through the headset. “He could afford the dental work.”

I allow myself a grin but look down at my hands.

“Is that all he said?” Jared asks, humor and curiosity still apparent in his expression.