Page 92 of Forever Golden

“You knew I would,” he says with a smile.

“Pretty sure I bruised that girl’s ribs, which wasn’t intentional. The game just got intense.”

“Oryougot intense,” he counters, calling me on my shit.

“Guilty, I guess.”

He shakes his head and I’m recalling how many times I nearly got into fights over a game. I grew up playing with guys who didn’t take it easy on me at the court, so I’ve never been one to play a dainty game of ball. I come at the other team hard and fast, and I make no apologies for that.

“How’s Shane?” I ask, genuinely concerned with how he’s settling in. Puerto Rico is so far away.

Ricky shrugs. “As good as can be expected. Of course, he’s pissed about having to leave Scar and school, but he’ll be okay,” he reasons.

I nod, sympathizing with that in so many ways.

“He’ll adjust, make new friends.”

Ricky nods once, keeping his eyes trained on me. “Maybe, but your first love’s hard to get over.”

I draw in a deep breath and let my gaze slip to the floor, knowing we’re no longer talking about my sister and his brother. Which brings me to why I asked him to stop by.

“I hear you and West had a talk tonight.”

After speaking, I imagine how uncomfortable that must have been for both parties involved.

Ricky nods. “We did.”

“And… do you think it’s as crazy an idea as I do?”

He thinks for a moment. “When he first brought it up, yeah, but the more I thought about it, the less insane it seemed. Why? You don’t think it’ll work?”

“Do you?”

He gives a nonchalant shrug. “I’m… optimistically intrigued.”

I think I get what he means. “It’s not so much that I don’t think it’ll work. It’s just that the whole thing feels…”

“Awkward as fuck,” he cuts in when I can’t find the words.

His summation draws a laugh out of me. “That’s one way of putting it. I mean, this whole‘four-step-plan’has my head spinning, but West seems so certain this is what it’ll take for his dad to keep his distance.”

“Yeah, he filled me in on the steps part on my drive over here. We had to cut our first conversation short so no one would see.”

I smile at him a little when he finishes explaining. “I get the feeling you two talk more than I realize. Do I smell a bromance in the making?”

He cocks his head to the side, as if to suggest I’ve lost my mind.

“He’s not my type,” he teases as I laugh.

“Seriously, though, how’d you do with the whole‘cousins’thing? I imagine that had to be quite the surprise.”

When his chest rises with a deep breath, his expression says it all. Hearing the news about his grandfather was painful, but he’s not so naïve to think it’s impossible.

“Is what it is,” he says plainly, which is code for‘I don’t want to talk about it’for those of us who speak fluent Ricky.

I take the hint and move on.

“Well, how are you feeling about this? I mean, with our history and all. Are you—”

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