Page 52 of Trapped and Tackled

Marlowe shakes her head. She blinks rapidly, as if to hold back tears. “He’s saying my dad isn’t my dad.”

“What?” I gasp. “Why would he say that? And how the hell would he—” The words die in my throat because Marlowe’s dad and Toby’s dad have been best buddies for ages. Since they were in high school.

“I don’t know. I don’t understand. But the way he’s saying it, Len, and the way my parents have been acting lately… A part of me thinks Toby is telling the truth. That he knows more about my family than I do.”

“Where is he?” I ask, glancing around the deck. Toby isn’t on it. Figures; he’s such a shitty boyfriend.

Marlowe shrugs. “He took the boat out with a few of the guys.”

“Oh,” I say, not commenting more.

Marlowe offers a watery smile. “I know what you’re thinking.”

I sigh. We promised we’d be straight with each other. “You deserve better.”

“Do I?” The fact that she asks is alarming. What happened to my fun-loving, larger-than-life, confident friend?

In two years, I know I changed. I had to. But standing here, studying Marlowe, I realize she has too. Toby, her family, and the circumstances of the past few years have tarnished her shine.

“Yes,” I say, my voice clear.

Marlowe snorts. I wrap an arm around her waist and she drops her head to my shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re here, Leni.”

I kiss the top of her head, realizing how much we need each other. Now more than ever. “I am too, Len. And this is going to be a great birthday.”

She laughs and shakes her head, knowing I’m full of shit.

“It can be,” I continue. “This year should be the year you go after what you want. If that’s answers, get them. You deserve better, across the board. Don’t settle for less.”

Marlowe holds my gaze for a long moment before nodding. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.”

“And you need to take your own advice too.”

I roll my eyes. “Calling me on my bullshit, huh?”

“Someone has to.” Marlowe grins and holds out her hand.

I shake it. “To the next year.”

“Another trip around the sun,” she says.

“And a fresh beer,” Talon says, stepping up with three Solo cups balanced between his hands.

“Thanks, Talon,” Marlowe says, helping herself to a beer.

“Can’t be empty-handed on your birthday.” He winks at her.

We toast to Marlowe’s birthday. I take a pull of my beer and smack my lips together. “Yuengling?”

Marlowe nods.

“Damn, Leni,” Talon remarks. “Didn’t take you for a beer girl.”

Marlowe chortles. “She’s German.”

“Fair,” Talon remarks.

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