Page 114 of Daring You

“It’s my only choice,” I say honestly.

Rolfe nods. He’s as tall as me, with much blonder hair and features most chicks would call “chiseled” instead of muscular. I don’t know if I like him.

“And Astor.” Rolfe directs his attention on her. “You’re putting a lot on the line, giving me the lead on this instead of Yang.”

Astor looks at me when she says, “I have no regrets.”

“Okay, then,” Rolfe says. He pushes open the door to an old-fashioned, lots of wood, conference room with bulky, black leather chairs. Aiden sits in the center, appearing grumpy, tired, annoyed and resigned. A mirror image of myself, in fact.

“Let’s get started,” Rolfe says.

One foot in, and I’m prepared to face the fiery Armageddon of my past.

* * *

Four hours later,and my mom and dad’s last night, my real-life nightmare, is documented in a computer, ready to be printed out and handed to the other side, potentially to be used at trial.

“Your name will never be on the pages,” Astor says as she puts her blazer back on.

The small amount of people in the conference room—Rolfe, the court reporter, and Aiden, have left.

I forgot to tell Astor how beautiful she looks. As soon as I saw her this morning, in tailored black skirt and a pale pink blouse, I thought, She’s waiting for me.

And Astor stayed with me, all throughout this grueling process.

“I don’t fucking deserve you,” I say to her now.

Astor freezes with one arm through her blazer. A surge of conflict flows through her expression before she says, “It’s the least I could do, Ben, after the shitshow I caused.”

“No. Don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are. You’re going all professional on me.”

She gestures around us. “That’s exactly the kind of environment we’re in.”

“Last time we were in an official environment, I fucked you from behind.”

Astor’s eyes go wide and she shushes me as if we have eavesdroppers, when we’ve just been put in the most secure place possible, other than maybe a bank’s underground vault. And thank God, I laugh. Chuckle hard. Get out all the pain and emotion from the memories I was forced to bring forth in a few single, loud guffaws.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asks.

“Truth? I don’t fucking know anymore. But all I want is to get out of here somewhere, with you.”

She hesitates, but I sense sadness behind her eventual smile. “I got nowhere else to be, so just choose the place.”

“You’re gonna lose your job over this, aren’t you.” It’s not a question.

Astor waves my statement off. “I was meant to leave it long before Ryan Delaney came along.”

“You got a place with me,” I say.

She looks at me questioningly.

“There’s a lot I have to do now. Talk to my parents—my living ones. Deal with whatever’s gonna happen with…all this.” I include the conference room, and what went on in it. “Figure out what to say to Locke, my buddies. Decide whether or not to throttle your ex. Worry over whether your boss is going to out me, or if I need to pack up my shit if that drug guy, Chavez, ever finds out.”

“They can’t—won’t,” Astor cuts in. “Not with the amount of protection the DOJ has put on you.”

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