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Became president of the frat.
Earned high grades.
Had the girls all over him—even though he was very out of the closet.
The most surprising part was them mentioning him playing football.
“You played American football?” I gaped at him. “You? Mr. I-Won’t-Be-A-College-Cliché?”
Judah groaned and slapped his palms over his face. “Yeah, yeah, I did it.”
“You were fucking good at it, too. The star quarterback.” Chaz punched him on the shoulder. “You could’ve fucking gone pro, bro.”
Judah rolled his eyes. “Can you imagine Mom letting me do that? She’d have lost her mind.”
I held in the snort that threatened by rubbing my nose and nodding, agreeing with him. There was no way in hell that Elizabeth would’ve let Judah do anything except business, but I could also see her puffing her chest out in pride at having a son who played college football, too. The mother of the quarterback. That kind of recognition came with benefits.
It was surreal that I’d never known Judah had played football, but I’d also never paid attention to it, either. I preferred the real football—soccer—but I wished I’d known so I could’ve turned on the telly to watch him play.
Judah stood quickly, his cheeks a little redder than before. “I’m gonna go get another beer. Anyone want one?”
Michael jumped to his feet. “Let me help you, buddy.”
Everyone but me said they wanted another drink, and I watched Michael and Judah walk toward the kitchen, leaving me alone with the other four guys. James grabbed his phone from the pocket of his pants immediately, already checking something on the screen, while Eric rose to finally slide off his jacket. Chaz and Brett turned their complete attention on me, and I definitely didn’t like it one bit.
“So, Tavish.” Chaz’s grin turned sardonic. “You and Judah have a history, huh?”
“We do, aye,” I murmured as kindly as I could, turning to glance in the direction Judah had disappeared and hoping he’d be back quickly.
“Shame you broke up. Was there a reason for that?” Brett leaned against the couch and stretched his arms along the back, going for relaxed but appearing more like a cruel hyena about to attack when his prey least expected it. He was no lion, rather a predator that waited for the real beast to turn his back so he could rampage. “Was it the money issue?”
“Money issue?” I repeated, not quite sure I’d heard correctly.
“Elizabeth told us about you once.” Chaz continued the conversation as though I hadn’t spoken.
My gaze bounced from one side of me to Chaz, then back to the other where Brett sat.
“She didn’t have a lot of good things to say about you.” Brett hummed and shrugged.
I tugged at the rolled sleeve of my shirt and laughed uncomfortably. The shell bracelet weighed heavily on my wrist, reminding me of the single tether I had to Judah. But how easy would it be to break? “Well, Elizabeth never liked me.”
Brett studied my shirt and leaned over to touch my shoulder. “What brand is this? Armani? Ralph Lauren? The material’s very thin.”
“Looks more like a Sears brand.” Chaz chortled, knocking me on the arm with his fist like it was his greatest joke yet, and shame curled in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Brett grunted. “Don’t think so, bro. Too cheap looking to even be that.” He joined in the laughter.
If I’d been anywhere else, I would’ve defended myself. I wasn’t a weak man and rich people didn’t scare me, but when it came to Judah, I was defenseless. These were his friends, and despite them being absolute arseholes, I smiled because there wasn’t much else I could do. If I shot back at them, I’d ruin the night. I wasn’t going to do that to Judah, not when he’d been so excited for me to meet them.
Eric frowned from where he sat. He crossed his legs and sniffed. “It might be cheap, but he still has more style than you two idiots.”
That managed to gain their attention, and they focused on him, chatting, while I tried to curl in on myself and die from the shame. I shouldn’t’ve expected any less coming to an event like this, knowing that these men were college frat bros who came from wealthy families, and yet it still hurt to be told indirectly that I wasn’t good enough for Judah. Another reminder of the different backgrounds we came from.
Judah dropped onto the couch beside me and nudged my elbow. “You okay, Puffin?”
I managed to give him a smile. “Aye, just thinkin’.”
“You tired?” he asked, clear concern on his face as he turned fully toward me. “We can go if you want.”
