“Why is is hotter than hell in here?” Alex asked, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

“I started a fire.” Something that was totally obvious to him and he’d been drinking.

Alex looked from the fire to Ian. “Why?”

“Because there needed to be one.” And because it reminded him of Shelby, just like absolutely everything including breathing. “What are you doing here?”

“Coming to get you before you throw a complete and total pity party.” He looked around. “You haven’t started single Adele yet, have you?”

“She’s amazing.” He flipped off his brother and then flopped back down on the couch. “How did you find me?”

“Dad called.”

Of course. He grabbed his glass of scotch, the same one he’d been nursing for the entire night. “Did you tell him to fuck off?”

“What do you think?” Translation: Abso-fucking-lutely. Alex swiped his glass and carried it over to the kitchen sink, where he dumped it. “Let’s go, I’m taking you to the airport.”

The fuck? They didn’t have a game for two more days thanks to the length of that epic road trip. He was going to spend at least the next twenty-four hours sitting here in this hell-hot room and finishing the bottle of scotch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Alex walked back to the living room, where he started to put out the fire. “She’s leaving.”

He didn’t have to ask who. There was only one “she” in his life.

“She’s going to New Orleans,” Alex continued. “Lucy said she’s going to start up a media content center for the Rage.”

If he had anything other than alcohol in his stomach at that moment, he would have thrown it up. Instead, he set his jaw and reached for the bottle of scotch on the coffee table. He’d just have to drink until he could puke and maybe that would numb the pain shooting through him.

He took a swig straight from the bottle, relishing the burn all the way down to his gut. “Good for her.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Alex glared at him. “That’s your reaction?”

“Why, because she’s going to support our biggest rival?” He took another drink, wondering how long it would take before he forgot what Alex had just said.

“No, you idiot.” Alex stormed over and grabbed the scotch from Ian’s grasp. “Because you love her.”

“I don’t love her.” And if he said it enough, he’d start to believe himself. Shit. What had he done? “I fucked it all up.”

“You have the drive back to Harbor City to figure out how to fix it.” Alex yanked Ian up off the couch and shoved him toward the door. “Come on. You don’t have time to waste. You’re paying the speeding tickets, though.”

Ian tried to process that. “You drove all the way out here just to drive me back?”