Page 97 of Daring You

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

“How is it with Carter?”

Locke stills. And thank fuck, he drops his hand.

I suck in a huge gulp of air, then say, “Do you feel different with her? Better? Happier? Fuller? ‘Cause that’s what I felt with your sister. She made everything different. There’s a lot going on with me, man, more than I can admit, but Astor, she made me forget all that was wrong in my life and became everything right.”

“You made her think she was nothing but a bet.”

“Not intentionally.” I rub my throat, but I’m wishing Locke would strangle it again. I hate that I did this to Astor. “I was caught up in…her. Wasn’t thinking about any sort of repercussions, because what we did was pure. Honest. It was only in the aftermath that I—that things went to shit. And she hasn’t believed me since. It’s why she hates me, man. And it’s taken me a long time to stop hating myself enough to want to do something about it.”

Locke’s head comes up. “And are you? Do you want to? Fix things with Astor?”

“More than anything.”

The words come so easy, and taste pretty sweet on my tongue, too.

Locke digs a hand into his hair, but he’s not breaking our stare. “I want my sister to be happy. It’s what I’ve always wanted. Our dares were fucked up. I’m the first to admit it, for obvious reasons.”

I nod in agreement.

“Astor thinks we’ve never grown up from it. That we’re still those guys who fuck shit up and bang chicks for fun,” he continues. “If it weren’t for Lily…hell, Astor would just be waiting to throw more screwups in my face. If you can make her understand that what happened in college was nothinglike what she thinks, well, I wish you luck, man. Because she’s not easily convincible.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

I’m also waiting for the right moment to admit I want more than the truth from Astor. I want her. I would like her beside me when the truth sets me free—all of them. But I don’t know if he’ll be okay with it.

“We’ve been friends a long time,” I say to him.

“Yeah, we have.”

“We’ve never come to blows.”

Locke sighs. “No. We haven’t.”

“Locke, I—”

He holds up his hand. “Let’s table this for now. I have to go or I’ll be late for the boys.”

I nod, relieved and disappointed I can’t completely unload.

“I’ll see you later, bro,” he says while swinging on his sports bag.

“Yeah. See ya.”

Locke leaves, and I bask in the peace and quiet for a brief moment before starting my life up again. On a sigh, I heave on my jacket.

The doors burst open, drawing my attention, and a trio of men in suits barge in, devoid of any gym bags.

I say to them while zipping up my coat, “No aliens in here guys, you might want to try the women’s change room next.”

Right at the moment I look up and recognize the smirking guy on the left—what the hell is Mike doing in Brooklyn?—the one in front says, “Ben Donahue?”

“Yeah,” I say on automatic. “Who’re you?”

“Altin Yang. A pleasure. We have something to discuss, you and I.”

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