Page 45 of Daring You

“I’m not too sad about it,” I say. “I broke enough records this year to keep myself from being a free agent, anyway.”

“The Giants snagged you right up again, huh?” Ash says as he rounds the island and hands East his bottle.

“Damn straight. My agent called me this morning.” I drink harder from the bottle, reminding myself that’s what’s important. My career. Not my past.

Fuck. We’ve all gone through so many things, and my boys either think I’m emotionally stunted or living a fairly carefree life, because rarely do they ever try to dig into what makes me tick.

I could take it as an insult, but I don’t, considering the few times they’ve asked about my burns, I give them a blunt answer: fire when I was young, and leave it at that.

It’s funny, to look at this group on the outside. We’re the most fucked up F.R.I.E.N.D.S. entourage to ever not become a TV show, yet here we are, closely tied through tragedy and pain.

“Quit looking so pathetic, Benji,” Ash says, and has the gall to bop me on the forehead with his spoon. I snatch it and fling it back at his face.

He doesn’t duck in time. “Shit! I forget about those damn reflexes.”

“Go jerk off somewhere else,” I say.

Easton chuckles, but we’re interrupted by the ancient lift again, this time dispensing Locke, Carter, Lily and—

Astor.

She’s at the back, in a pantsuit, of course, her hair perfectly straight and slick, like melted chocolate trickling down the nape of her neck. Her eyes, a serious, unearthly blue, hit mine as soon as I reach them.

She breaks contact first by paying attention to Lily at her hip. Lily’s gabbing something, using sounds that resemble the actual English language.

“Did Lily just say Uncle Ben?” I say, rising from the stool and heading over, arms open.

I’m amazed at how much she’s grown. Lil’s spiked up in height, has longer hair, more teeth, and is much more opinionated on matters previously thought unimportant to me. Like the preference towards ice cream versus cake, Disney dolls versus empty water bottles as toys, and pulling at any and all arm hair she comes across.

“Unless jujumaba means Uncle Ben,” Astor says, “I’m guessing she means anything but you.”

She probably gets that last trait from Astor.

“That’s her new word for apple juice,” Carter says, and gently takes Lily from Astor.

“Only this amazing woman can interpret my daughter’s secret language,” Locke says, clapping East on the shoulder, then slapping palms with Ash. He reaches me and we do the bro handshake hug. Locke is the closest I’ll ever come to a true brother.

“More like, she has a meltdown until I figure out what she means,” Carter says, and gives me an arm squeeze. “It’s like our personal game of Hellhole.”

“Wanna drink?” Ash asks.

“Absolutely,” Carter breathes. “Pinot Grigio if you have it.”

“Excellent. That goes perfectly with my cream sauce.”

We all go silent as Ash, a giant dude with a shaved head who prefers leather vests with no shirt underneath to show off his copious amount of tats, talks about pairing wines with pasta sauce and sifts through his wine rack.

“We know you, and we love you,” Locke says to him, “But we still don’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.”

Ash winks as he uncorks a bottle.

“Astor, you want anything?” Easton asks, ever the gentlemen.

Dude steals my thunder through his voice alone. I suppose I gotta give it to him, seeming how standing in front of her dumbly doesn’t get the same point across. I meant to grab Lily, toss her around in my arms a bit, but then Astor’s goddamned jewel-filled eyes distracted me.

I feel Astor’s steady gaze on mine, especially when the arch of her perfect brow sends surprisingly bright tingles directly into my dick.

I clear my throat and step aside, sweeping my arm out to indicate the empty stool. “After you.”

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