Page 2 of The Money Shot

“Wouldn’t have survived this place without you two,” I admitted, my voice softening as the weight of it all hit me. Jack, and to a lesser extent Bradley—had been my rock through all the ups and downs.

“Right back at you, Murph,” Jack said, nudging my shoulder with his. The quiet sincerity in his voice surprised me.

“Here’s to us,” Bradley added, lifting an imaginary glass.

“Here’s to us,” I echoed, sharing a moment of silent triumph as the names continued droning on around us.

“Murphy, Liam!” the dean’s voice rang out, snapping me back to reality.

“Guess that’s me,” I said, standing and glancing back at my best friends. I walked toward the stage, grinning at the thought of the next chapter waiting for us in New York City.

When I returned, Jack was up next, and the dean called his name for the Valedictorian speech we’d all been waiting for. I gave him a thumbs-up as he got to his feet.

“Go get ’em, Jack,” I murmured, feeling a swell of pride.

“Thanks, Murph,” he murmured. Then, with a last grin, he strode toward the stage, every inch the confident, Southern charmer who had won over everyone who crossed his path. The sunlight hit him at just the right angle, catching gold highlights in his hair. And as he started his speech, his voice rolling over the crowd with that familiar ease, it was impossible not to admire the man he’d grown into.

“Life,” Jack said, his voice carrying over the crowd, “is about the families we’re born into—and the ones we choose along the way.” His eyes landed briefly on Brad and me, and he smiled, warm and genuine.

It struck me then that, in some unspoken way, we’d built our own little family here.

When the speech ended, I clapped till my hands ached, watching as Jack made his way back to his seat. Bradley leaned over with a grin.

“Our boy’s all grown up, giving speeches instead of frat party toasts.”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” I smirked, knowing we were all thinking the same thing—these were our last moments here, in this place that had shaped us.

When the ceremony finally wound down, we found ourselves released into the sea of families and friends, navigating through hugs, photos, and cries of congratulations. Brad’s arm slung around my shoulders as he pulled me through the crowd.

“Can you believe this?” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Not really,” I replied, trying to shake off the weight of nostalgia. “Feels like yesterday we were running around campus like idiots.”

“Exactly,” Jack said, appearing on my other side, his hair slightly mussed. “And now we’re headed to New York City. Can you imagine?”

“It’s gonna be epic,” I said, grinning. “The three of us in one apartment—no more dorm-size fridges, hot plates, or Bradley raiding my Pop-Tarts.”

Brad rolled his eyes, his grin widening. “Hey, someone had to make sure they weren’t expired.”

Jack laughed, giving him a playful shove. But there was a quietness in his gaze when he turned back to me, his Southern charm momentarily slipping to reveal something deeper.

“Ready to take on the city, Murph?” he asked, his voice low.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, my heart racing at the thought of the unknown. But I wasn’t about to let on. If Jack knew how scared I was he might think less of me.

Brad wrapped an arm around both of us, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “Then let’s give New York a run for its money.”

As we headed toward the future—my two best friends beside me—I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were all playing our parts in a movie, walking off into the sunset. And maybe we were just three kids who had no idea what the future held. But that was a worry for another day. Today, we were finally free of school and ready to begin our real lives.

Chapter Two

Jack

Iwas already fifteen minutes late when the first fat drops of rain splattered against my forehead. Perfect. Just perfect. The early summer sky had threatened all day, but naturally, it chose this exact moment to make good on that threat. I picked up my pace along Hudson Street, my leather shoes clicking against the sidewalk as I dodged around tourists and locals.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—probably Liam or Brad wondering where the hell I was. I’d texted them earlier about the client meeting running long, but that had been almost an hour ago. The rain began falling harder now, and I broke into a run, clutching my suit jacket closer to my chest. My mother would have a fit if she saw me running in a thousand-dollar suit, but better that than showing up looking like I’d taken a swim in the Hudson.

Steel & Steam loomed ahead, its industrial facade somehow both imposing and welcoming. The neon sign cast a bluish glow onto the wet sidewalk, and warm light spilled from the windows onto the gathering puddles. I yanked open the heavy door, and the familiar mixture of whiskey, leather, and wood polish filled my nostrils.

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