Page 12 of Busted Dreams

“Astrid, you’re not answering me, and it’s starting to make me think I dreamed all this up in my head.” I forced a grin.

“I just went on a date with Beck last night.” She blew out a harsh breath between her teeth, an unreadable expression bleeding into her features.

“I know, I was there to see you off, remember?” Because that moment between us, right before she left, was all I had thought about for hours.

“I would love to go out with you…” she stated slowly, and I knew there was more coming. “And I want to continue to see Beck. Maybe even Thatcher. Is that going to be okay with you?” She grimaced like she expected me to blow up, curse at her or hit something.

Didn’t she know that the four of us had already had this conversation? Of course she didn’t, because no one was willing to tell her we talked about her when she wasn’t with us. The only one that hadn’t committed was Jonah. One less was better for me.

“Is it ideal? No. Am I good at sharing? Also no.” I laughed, and she huffed out a little breath. “But I want you, I like you, and sometimes, Astrid, you drive me crazy. Give me a chance to drive you crazy too.” I smirked.

Her brows scrunched together, and I could just imagine the confusion running through her innocent head. She had no idea just how I wanted to drive her crazy, and I wanted to show her. Badly.

“Okay…” She drew out her answer, but it was a step in the right direction.

“So a date? Next weekend?” I pushed a little harder.

“Yeah, Rhys. We can go on a date next weekend.” She looked more afraid than ecstatic. I’d never been the cocky jock people assumed me to be, but I had hoped she’d at least show a little bit of enthusiasm. Then again, Astrid was not someone I’d ever claim to accurately predict.

“You still want to go out, right?” She tipped her head forward, studying my face.

“Absolutely. Let’s go.”

For the first time, I linked my fingers through hers and settled our hands over my thigh. Cuddling on the couch could be rationalized as roommate activity. At least to a girl like Astrid. But holding hands on the ride to a friend’s house? She couldn’t mistake that for anything other than intention.

And I intended to be her boyfriend.

* * *

“What took you guys so long?”Jonah practically yelled when we walked into the living room.

At this point in our friendship, Thatcher might as well give us a key to his place. We sure as hell didn’t feel the need to knock anymore.

I helped Astrid take off her jacket as I took in the scene.

Jonah seemed uncharacteristically high strung. He definitely stressed out over little things often, but it was more of an internalized reaction. Now though, he fidgeted and seemed really uncomfortable.

“Astrid, why don’t you come sit with me?” He patted the cushion next to him on the loveseat.

Thatcher had his beer half-raised to his mouth, staring Jonah down like he was one paint stroke short of a masterpiece, and Beck had his hand covering the bottom of his mouth. Although his eyes were amused.

She shrugged but walked over to join him.

“Have I told you the game tonight was epic?” Thatcher said after a long pull of his beer.

The adrenaline I’d been riding on all evening was simmering out, but I was still flooded with endorphins.

I grinned wide. “Yeah, you did.”

Without waiting for an invitation, I walked to his kitchen and grabbed a beer for me and some kind of orange Smirnoff Thatcher had started keeping on hand for Astrid. She never really drank more than one, but it probably helped her to feel like one of the guys. Something I imagined she never really felt before.

Hell, I had never felt this kind of friendship before. Now that we were all making our play, it would only be a matter of time before the fragile bonds we’d been building would sever, and we’d be left friendless and Astrid-less. Except for the lucky bastard she picked. They’d at least have each other.

Popping the top on both our drinks, I contemplated how these next six months were going to go down. And looking around at each of the guys, it made me wonder if our friendship was really so weak that it would crash and burn the day Astrid made her choice.

Even if Astrid didn’t choose me, I’d do everything I could to keep the friendship.

“Pizza is almost here.” Thatcher scooted his chair over to the loveseat and reached forward. He brought Astrid’s feet into his lap, forcing her back into Jonah’s side. At first, he tensed, then tentatively raised an arm to the back of the couch so she fit more comfortably against him.

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