Page 87 of Daring You

But he kisses mom, as if remembering it was the best day of his life.

I shake myself out of it, but I can’t stop the ghost of Ryan Delaney rendering my face colorless.

Astor and Mike’s colliding voices spiral into my ears, and I breathe through the dizzying speed required to bring Ben Donahue back to the forefront.

“Whoa, better check on your buddy there, Astor,” Mike says. “He’s about to pass the fuck out.”

“Get the hell out of—Ben? Wait, Ben?”

Astor rushes over and clutches my arm, steering me to the couch. She whispers in my ear as I sit, “I’m getting him out. Stay strong a little longer.”

Stay strong.

Like I haven’t been strong all my damn life.

It’s Ryan I want out. Don’t give two fucks about Mike.

I don’t know this boy who keeps invading my brain very well, but he’s deciding to get to know me at the worst moments. Next, I’ll be stumbling drunk on the field, unsure whether to catch a football or smile for an ice cream cone.

“Here.” Astor strides back to Mike, gripping her left hand. She grabs Mike’s arm, and shoves something into his palm. “Like you generously keep reminding, this is twenty-k’s worth of your shit. So, take it, be happy with it for now, and we’ll discuss division of assets later.”

Jesus. I didn’t even notice she still wore the ring.

“Spoken like a true divorce attorney. You sure missed your calling, going after husbands’ fortunes.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Astor says, and I concur.

Mike pockets the ring, and smiles like he got the last shot. But really, I’m the reason Astor is walking a little funny, and I’ll take that satisfaction over a lame lawyer joke any day. I smile at him, hoping to communicate just how effectively I had his ex, and how much I’m probably going to do it again.

His sneer shrivels.

“I’ll come back after I make a few phone calls,” he says to Astor. “Namely, your brother.”

Now it’s Astor’s turn to go white. “Stay out of it, Mike.”

“No way. Your little fame whore over there? TMZ would love a tidbit like this, and it would be even better with a black eye from your bro.”

“This is so beneath you.” But Astor’s voice shakes.

“So’s fucking your brother’s best friend on your ex-fiance’s floor.”

At that, Mike snaps the front door shut as primly and firmly as a man who got the last pot-shot at a woman.

I shake my head, ashamed for him.

Astor presses her palms against the door, head bowed. I can’t think of anything to say.

“God. I really need a drink,” she says at last. “We’re in trouble.”

I rest elbows on my knees. I feel just about as defeated as she does.

What’s worth protecting at this point?

Locke finding out who I really am?

Or Locke finding out I boned his sister?

I bury my face in my hands, rubbing hard. I’m not even sure anymore.

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