Chapter Fifteen
Joey
Holt was shaking mad by the time he found me at the clambake. Which was ridiculous, I wasn’t his property to worry over. I also never pegged him for the jealous type. Thankfully, he seemed to get over it just as quickly.
I pick at the remnants of my seafood stew, made with yesterday"s leftovers. “Has anyone seen Witt today?”
“Same answer as the last six times you asked,” Fitz replies.
Holt reaches out slightly, as if uncertain, then takes his hand back. I feel both relieved and disappointed. “Don"t worry so much. He"s a teenager—he"s probably just sleeping in.”
“Until one o"clock?” I say, skeptical.
Holt nods. “Happens all the time.”
“Especially if he"s hungover,” Fitz adds.
“Great, that"s all I need,” I groan. “I might as well not even be here for all the d
