Page 93 of Daring You

25

Ben

11 a.m.,and no text from Astor.

I’m tapping the phone against my thigh, staring into nothing, as I sit on my bed and debate going to the gym with Locke during his lunch break.

We do this every Wednesday, since I’m off-season training anyway and Locke’s coaching kids in high school football, we both have to stay fit. And we enjoy spotting each other, insulting our weight-counts, and generally annoying one another until we’re able to grab a breakfast sandwich at the deli on the corner and part ways.

Six months, it’s been this way.

Several weeks of hanging out with my buddy, laughing like usual times, with nothing in the vicinity or solar system to drive a wedge between us.

Or so Locke thought.

“Damnit, Astor…” I say to no one.

She might’ve second-guessed her decision to tell him this morning. Maybe wanted more time. But, how volatile is Mike? What are the odds he’ll keep this juicy secret all to himself?

Mike’s definitely the type of super-villain to use his weapon when he’ll sustain the most damage.

I can’t take it anymore. I text Astor:

If you’ve changed your mind, I’m cool with it, but you have to let me know. I’m seeing your bro in an hour.

Nothing.No response, not even three dots to let me know she’s typing.

“Fuck this.”

I stand, grab my duffel, and head to Brooklyn.

* * *

Locke meetsme at the entrance to his nearby gym.

He looks happy, I think as I walk up to him. Got that look about him, the coloring of a man with a good woman at his side. And a baby.

With zero knowledge about his best friend diddling his sister.

“What’s up, man,” he says as I approach. “Was about to think you weren’t going to show.”

“Nah, just delayed on the bridge,” I lie.

He claps me on the back. “Let’s get to it. I only got forty minutes now.”

I nod, but I’m too busy searching his face in an attempt to discover what he knows. Unfortunately, I suck at it.

“What’re you doing, bro? Checking me for ticks?”

“No, man.” I rear back, and check my phone instead. Still nothing from Astor. “Just thought you had something on your face.”

Locke frowns at me, as if confused I’d be pointing it out rather than let him go about the rest of his day with shit on this face.

He has a point.

I stay mum throughout the entirety of our workout, preferring to get out aggression caveman style and heave around a bunch of weights.

We finish, with little small talk, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise when Locke voices concern.

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