Walking across to Rome, I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him from pacing. As he looked up at me, I could see the anguish on his face about my mamma. About his daddy putting pressure on him to reject the NFL draft and take over the family business. My best friend was hurting too.

We were both f**ked.

“One: you ain’t gonna run Prince Oil. You’re gonna get drafted and go pro. You know you’ll be a first round pick in the draft. Keep on to that plan. And two: as much as I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, for Mamma, with your money, it’s not gonna happen. Axel won’t accept it. Him, Levi, and me will sort shit. We’ll get it done.”

Rome scoffed and shook his head. “How will you get it done? The Heighters? Is that the answer to your money problems? Coke? Is that how you’ll get done?”

Ice ran through my veins. “Ain’t your concern, Bullet.”

Rome planted his hand on my shoulder. “That’s where you’re wrong. It is my damn business. I don’t wanna see my best friend, my brother, locked up for dealing cocaine. Your life’ll be ruined. And I’m telling you now, Carillo, you go down this road, I won’t support it. I can’t see you being dragged back into that life. Not when you got the NFL in your sights.”

Knocking away his hand, I moved back to the bed and slumped down.

“Carillo? What the f**k?” Rome said angrily.

“I ain’t dealing, so calm the f**k down.”

“But Axel is?” he said knowingly.

I nodded and Rome moved to sit beside me, both of us staring forward into the distance. We said nothing for several seconds.

“And now Levi,” I said reluctantly.

Instantly, Rome froze.

“Levi? Fourteen-year-old f**kin’ Levi? Christ, Austin! No! You said he was just on the fringe of the Heighters. Not dealing for them!” he shouted, this time even more pissed off. Rome liked my kid brother. Wanted more for him.

“Yeah, man. My little bro. Levi’s old enough now to contribute. Axe will get him out when it’s all over. We Carillos are getting shit done the only way we know how.”

“Illegally,” Rome muttered.

I shot him a shitty look. “Don’t matter how, Rome, just as long as Mamma goes pain free. We both know it won’t be forever. A couple ’a hundred grand now, and then I’ll work on getting us all hell out.”

Rome turned to me. “Austin, I’m begging you now. Let me pay for her treatment. No loan or payback. Let me just gift it to you… for her sake.”

I slapped him on the back, my throat clogging with gratitude. “Not happening, man. But I’ll never forget what you offered. It’s more than anyone’s ever done for me.”

It may have sounded stubborn, but I wasn’t taking any money from my best friend. Not a dime. Mamma wouldn’t want it. She’s a proud woman… and I’m her equally proud son.

Rome and I both sat in quiet contemplation for a while before he stood up and walked to the door, the atmosphere between us now calm.

“Downstairs in ten, you and me need a drink,” Rome said, and I relaxed knowing we were passed our differences.

“Sure, man.”

Rome opened the door. Just as he was about to leave, I asked, “That English chick you’ve been spending time with—”

“Molly?” Rome answered. “What about her?”

“That little Goth chick she hangs ’round with, the cheerleader…”

Rome’s eyes narrowed as he tried to picture who I was talking about, and a minute later, an expression of recognition flashed across his face. “Yeah?”

I glanced down, not meeting his eyes. “You know her name?”

Rome was quiet for a moment, and when I looked up, he was thinking.

Shrugging, he answered, “Lana, Lucy, Lizzi, something like that. Maybe Lexi? Yeah, I think it’s Lexi.” His brows furrowed. “You gonna tell me why you wanna know?”

I stared at him blankly. Rome laughed and tapped twice on the door. “Didn’t think so. I’m out.”

Once again, I was left in my room, alone. The first thing I pictured was her face—Lana, Lucy, Lizzi, maybe Lexi? Whatever—and immediately I felt like shit.

You terrify me, Carillo. I’m afraid of you…

One hour later and the frat house was teeming with people. I stood nursing my beer in the corner of the room with Rome. Rome was like a damn junkie, twitching, rocking from one foot to the other as he leaned back on the wall beside me, watching the door. He’d already rejected every groupie who had come his way. Rome was a player through and through, and I found his sudden disinterest in the opposite sex f**kin’ hilarious.

That English chick, Molly, was really getting to the guy.

Rome was talking to me about nothing important when suddenly I saw Ally, Rome’s cousin, enter the house, followed by JD’s woman, Cass, who looked drunk as all hell.

I didn’t notice her at first, but trailing at the back was her. Lana, Lucy, Lizzi, maybe Lexi—whatever the f**k she was called—dressed all in black: a black long-sleeved shirt-thing that showed her tiny waist, so tiny I could probably fit one hand around it, a black short skirt, black pantyhose, black heels, her hair curled to the side like Dita Von Teese, with huge black-rimmed eyes and dark-red lipstick.

Fuck. Much to my annoyance, she looked good.

She was smiling at Cass running her mouth when, suddenly, she glanced up, all pale-green eyes looking my way. We locked gazes for a few seconds before I remembered her words from earlier. I need you to leave me alone. Gripping my beer in hand, I turned and forced my way through the mass of drunken Tide players and groupies until I burst outta the back doors into the humid night air.